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"It's a speech impediment."
"It's not a speech impediment, this is ridiculous."
Amy and Sinead had been stuck to that petty argument for the past few days, but, at last, Sinead seemed to get sick of it as she threw up her hands and laid back on the chair.
"Fine. It could be a speech impediment. Treat it like one, then. Put rocks on your mouth and practice tongue twisters until you get it right."
Amy rolled her eyes. "We both know that's not gonna work."
"Because it's not a speech impediment!" Sinead hissed, loud enough that the people on the other tables turned to look at her. "Sorry."
"I meant that it's not a physiological problem, there's nothing wrong with the insides of my mouth, it's probably psychological."
"And by psychological you mean that it's about him."
Amy felt her cheeks getting hot as she peeked around, suddenly nervous that someone might still be paying attention to their conversation.
"Now that is actually very physiological." Sinead continued, unfazed. "You want to bang him, so you get nervous and you can't speak, simple."
"Oh my god." Amy hid her face in her hands.
"If it helps, I'm pretty sure Ian likes you too. You can tell by the fact that he is less of a bitch with you than with anyone else."
At this, Amy let out a laugh. "He's kind of a bitch, I'll admit it. Which is part of the problem, maybe."
"Or." Sinead raised a finger, a maniac scientist look on her freckled face. "It could be your solution. Just think of all the ways Ian Kabra is a pathetic little man and then you won't get so nervous next time you talk to him."
Amy snickered. "I have tried so many things that that just might work. Thanks, Sid."
"Yeah, no problem, just pay for my coffee next time."
That night, Amy ran through her (admittedly short) texting history with Ian, judging his use of punctuations and old lady emojis. She thought back to all the funny names Dan had called him and rolled with laughter on her bed when she remembered that one time Ian was chased by a dog and ripped his pants.
Truth be told, Ian could be as handsome as he was, he was overly proud and often childish. The more Amy thought about it, the more she questioned her infatuation. Was she really into Ian? What did she even like about him?
Feeling confused but also not intimidated by him, she opened their conversation. Are you going to Jonah's tomorrow?
He took almost five minutes to reply. Yes. See you there?
See ya <3
When the time came to see him in person, Amy was calmer than she had ever been in that situation. She arrived at Jonah's house at the expected time and stopped at the kitchen to talk to Hamilton.
"It's been so long since we all got together like this," she said.
"I know, I feel like we haven't hung out since before the summer vacation."
Amy wrapped her arms around his torso. "Sorry, Hammer. I was too overwhelmed with finals." And Ian. "We'll hang out more this year, I promise."
"We better." He pointed a spoon at her in a clear threat. "And at least you can study with Ian, having pretty much the same classes and all, I had to figure out a whole year's worth of classes on my own."
"Ian is not that smart." But they both knew she was lying. Amy had a subtle recollection of trying to decipher a particularly difficult topic at 2 A.M. in the library, so desperate and high on caffeine that all of her insecurities were gone and she managed to have an actual one on one conversation with Ian. "Is Jonah playing the piano?"
"Either him or Ian. They are both in the living room while I am apparently the maid finishing up all this." And he showed the balcony filled with unimpressive party snacks.
"It seems like you got your hands full, so I'll go check up on the other guys."
Hamilton gave a diligent wave as Amy headed to the living room. Jonah was the only person her age who she knew that had an acoustic piano at home, but being as rich and as serious about music as he was, it didn't come as a surprise.
What was a surprise, however, was the fact that Jonah was mixing drinks at the diner table while Ian played the piano, with Phoenix sitting next to him. Amy stopped at the door, outside Ian's field of vision, and watched as he long fingers masterfully pressed the keys of one of Chopin's Nocturnes. He sat very straight, dressed in one of his many overpriced sweaters, black wavy hair perfectly in place. Phoenix stared attentively at the movements of his hands and Amy liked Chopin, she really did, but she wasn't as interested in the interpretation or technique as much as she was interested in his silhouette.
"Ames!" Jonah yelled when he finally noticed her, prompting Ian to stop mid chord and Phoenix to jump into immediately taking over the song.
"Hey, Jonah." She smiled and hugged him, despite her unreasonable annoyance at the interruption.
Ian got up from the piano, tall and athletic, and walked to her with a contained smile on his beautiful lips, amber eyes teasing as always, complimented by the perfect shape of his elegant nose and the rich warm brown of his complexion, he stood close to her, so close she could feel his smell, clove and old wood, so close she could reach and touch his shoulder. "You really came."
Amy blinked. "Yes, I did."
The silence extended for a second too long. "Did you see Hammer?" Jonah asked, almost with a desperate tone.
"Yes, we talked."
They fell into silence again, at the exact moment Phoenix played the wrong note, turning to them with an embarrassed expression that didn't come close to what Amy felt. Jonah ran to help him, leaving Amy and Ian to their own.
"Honestly, Chopin isn't really a party tune," Ian joked.
"Maybe you should play Tchaikovsky," said Amy.
"Great for dancing."
They smiled at each other and Amy didn't think for a second of any of his many flaws she listed the night before.
Things somehow ran smoothly as more people arrived at the party, and with Sinead there fifteen minutes later the soundtrack was decided as Taylor Swift and she pulled Amy aside with a conspiratory air. "So? How is it going with Ian?"
"Bad?" Amy looked at where Ian was talking to Natalie, with an ease only the two of them had with each other. "The same? I was sure he was condescending and jaded when I first got here, but now I just keep thinking that he is silently attentive and knowledgeable."
Sinead stared at her with a blank expression. "This is beyond my abilities. Maybe you two should just hook up and stop the attempts of talking. You know, like a more non-verbal relationship, that just might be your thing."
"Why are you always so crude?" Amy mumbled. She wasn't completely opposed to just sliding into bed with Ian, minimum talk required, but she also knew that they could potentially really get along and she wished to be able to have a long conversation with him without becoming a stuttering mess.
"Or you can hope he has a thing for speech impediments."
"Oh, shut up."
Sinead threw back her head in an evil laughter, but a few seconds later You Belong With Me started playing and the two of them sang it over emotionally to each other. Ian and Natalie had come closer to where they were, so they could clearly hear Ian comment out loud, "I wish Jonah would play literally anything else."
Sinead only made eye contact with Amy and mouthed Bitch. Natalie must have sensed her annoyance or simply by being the self-proclaimed voice of good sense in Ian's life, she replied, "I wouldn't complain if he added some Rihanna but I quite like Taylor. She is your favorite, isn't she?"
The last part was directed to Sinead, who turned around with a satisfied, not to say purely mean, smile. "She is, I think I could listen to only her songs for a month."
Ian widened his eyes as if that was the worst scenario he could picture. Amy snickered to herself.
"This is how I feel about Rihanna and Lily Allen," said Natalie. "What about you, Amy?"
Amy felt suddenly shy, her brain immediately trying to conjure every artist she and Ian had talked about, but unable to come up with anyone who wasn't a dead composer. "I don't think I like any artist that much."
Sinead poked her in a teasing way. "Amy only listens to old stuff, like The Mamas & The Papas and Fleetwood Mac."
"You call that old?" Natalie rolled her eyes. "Last year, Ian's number one on Spotify Wrapped was Stravinsky."
"I like Stravinsky too," said Amy almost as a reflex, making the three of them look at her. Sinead's face read are you fucking serious right now, but Ian's eyes said of course you do.
"You two will have a lot to talk about, then." Natalie elbowed her brother. "And what I mean is, please, talk to him about it, I can't stand it anymore."
Ian and Amy exchanged a quick glance and smile. He looked uncharacteristically shy, his whole demeanor softer and more open than usual. Amy felt her mind reach a nearly ethereal blankness, she couldn't form a cohesive thought even if she tried to. She heard Sinead saying something to Natalie about adding songs to the playlist and suddenly she was alone with Ian.
"Have you ever seen the ballet for The Rite Of Spring? " Ian asked, finally looking back at her.
"No." Silence. "Just some clips."
"It's beautiful. I went once, in London."
"Must be nice." Amy held her hands over her stomach before deciding it was an awkward position and that she needed something to occupy herself with. "Do you wanna get a drink?"
"Oh, I'm good." Ian nodded emphatically. "The drinks from the table are over anyway."
"Well, then I'll go to the kitchen..."
"I'll go with you."
He made a motion to start walking and Amy led the way automatically. The kitchen was blissfully empty when they got there and Amy went straight to the fridge to grab a can of orange soda and a bottle of tequila.
"What are you making?" Ian asked.
"Low quality Paloma." Amy filled one glass. "Want one?"
He took a second to answer. "Okay."
She served him a full glass as well. While he sipped at it, first staring at the cabinet in front of them and then making an exaggerated face of appreciation, Amy had an epiphany. She had spent all of that time trying to decipher an abstract painting when it only took a slightly different angle to recognize the figure forming beyond and eyes. And the truth was, Ian was about just as awkward as she herself.
The discovery filled her with unexpected confidence that pulled her focus back into their previous conversation.
"So you saw the ballet for The Rite Of Spring in London." She leaned casually on the counter and watched Ian's face illuminate with interest .
"Yes. Stunning performance, really. Did you know that the first time it was performed, the audience..."
"Nearly rioted because of how emotional they were?" Ian beamed at her with recognition. "That is common Stravinsky trivia, by the way. I told you that I liked him."
"I shouldn't underestimate your trivia knowledge. I still can't believe you explained me the whole Bloomsbury group."
Amy's face got hotter. "That was a little over the top, I'm sorry."
"No, no, I thought it was interesting." Amy raised an eyebrow. Ian laughed. "You were very eloquent. I like hearing you talk about the things you like."
"I don't really talk much."
"No," he agreed. "But you stutter less when you're excited about something."
Amy was convinced she couldn't blush more before that and she had to actually hide her face behind her glass.
"I like talking to you," he continued. "I wish we did it more often."
"Me too." Amy sighed. "I'm always awkward to talk to."
Ian stayed silent for a second, like he was actually thinking it through. "Maybe you're a little awkward. But you are very polite and nice all of the time, unlike me. I feel like I always end up saying something mean even when I don't mean it."
"You could probably tone it down," Amy said. "Overall I guess you're just... charming."
Ian seemed to get flustered with the adjective. "Well, if I'm charming then I have to say that you are captivating."
Amy choked a bit on her Paloma. "Th-thanks."
"Now you are stuttering again," he pointed out.
"I wasn't expecting the compliment."
"I'm bad at this, right?" He frowned a little, not sad, but maybe a bit dramatic as he tended to be.
"At giving compliments?" Amy asked.
"Yes. I don't do it often. But flirting too, I guess."
"Are we flirting?"
"I hope we are."
Amy tilted her head and studied Ian's expression. His amber eyes had warmth rather than crystalized aloofness and for the first time his beauty seemed more gentle than elegant. The short conversation had cleared both her image of him and her sense of her own feelings.
"I get nervous when I talk to you," she confessed.
"I figured that out. Why?"
"I don't know. You're cool and cultured and European and also very beautiful."
Ian contained a pleased smile. "Many people would argue that I am the most uncool person to walk on Earth. But thank you, you're not too bad yourself."
Amy pushed him playfully. "Oh, don't get me wrong, you are painfully lame. I meant cool as in aloof and collected."
"Only on the outside, I promise. On the inside I spend about fifteen minutes analyzing every possible outcome to every possible message that you could send you."
"Now you're just making that up to keep the conversation interesting."
"I'm not, I promise. Natalie can testify to that."
"You let your sister see your text messages?" Amy squinted her eyes at him.
He scoffed. "I don't, she saw me rewrite the same sentence over my shoulder and didn't let me rest ever since."
"And what did you end up saying?"
"Nothing." Ian looked away, self-conscious. "I gave up. I wanted to ask you out, but I couldn't find the right words and I was afraid I would somehow insult you in the process."
"I'd love to go out with you. Not so sure about getting insulted."
Ian smiled and Amy realized she was already smiling at him. He picked both of their glasses, left them on the counter and reached for her hands. "I'll be nicer to you. Less stiff and defensive so you won't feel nervous when we talk. I really want to talk to you, Amy. You can rant to me about dead authors, or cats, or whatever nonsense your brother has been up to, or the little obsessive research I know you make about topics from class that interest you. I'll hear all of it and be nice when I answer."
"I'll be kind to you too," she promises. "So you won't need to think about self preservation when we're together. And you can be yourself around me, I don't care if you have the soul of a bitter old man, I just want to get to know you better."
"You have the personality and the fashion sense of an old woman as well."
"Now I understand why you assumed you'd insult me while asking me out."
"You did it first."
Amy squeezed his hands, then got on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you. For talking."
Ian smiled as pulled her gently by the waist. "The pleasure was all mine. Can we kiss now?"
"I thought you’d never ask." Amy lifted her hands to his face before their lips touched. It was a tentative, slow kiss, nothing like fireworks exploding around them, but rather a silent and affectionate agreement to care of each other. Then Ian pulled away a few millimeters, inspecting her face carefully, before he leaned again with a cocky smile for another kiss and this, oh this, Amy felt like all the previous nervousness was justified by the grip on her waist alone. Her fingers tangled on his hair and she tilted her head slightly, allowing him to slide his tongue deeper inside her mouth. Amy had had a good handful of college flings who didn't let her down, but she understood immediately that Ian was, if not good in general, then at least very good for her.
They kissed for what felt like twenty seconds and the entire duration of the party before Amy pulled away, wrapping her arms over his shoulders. Ian held her tight, still close to him, and moved a hand to caress her hair as she tucked her head under his chin. "Are you free tomorrow morning?" he asked.
"Don't we have class at 10?"
"We do. Want to have breakfast before?"
"Sounds good." Amy lifted her head to give him a peck. "Is that a date?"
"Could be. I still don't know if you like me or not."
Amy laughed and finally let go of him. "I like to play hard to get," she joked.
Ian pulled her back to him, putting an arm over her shoulder as they stood side to side. "Took us nearly a year to have this conversation, I think we both were playing hard to get."
"A year?" Amy raised an eyebrow. "Can't believe you had any interest in me when I couldn't say two words to your face."
Ian shrugged. "I heard you talk in class and you always made good points. I thought you were smart, then we had friends in common and I also knew you were nice to hang out with." He turned to her with a smile so sweet it was almost evil. "And when you got nervous around me I just thought you were adorable."
Amy blushed despite her mental effort of keeping it cool. She had to accept some things would never change. Ian pressed a soft kiss on her lips. Other things would change too.
"MY EYES. JESUS CHRIST, MY EYES."
They turned to the door, where Dan and Hamilton were standing. Dan had clearly been the one to scream, as he pressed the palms of both her hands over his eyes as if he wanted to push them inside his skull. Meanwhile, Hamilton's face went through a quick succession of feelings, going to confusion, to understanding, then shock and, finally, utter happiness.
"Ohhh, so this is what Sinead and Natalie are gossiping about," he said.
"How could they gossip about something they don't know has happened?" Ian complained.
"They might have planned the whole thing we walked right into it." Amy shrugged it off. She didn't care if they did and it would honestly suit them just fine. Instead, she untangled herself from Ian and walked up to her brother. "Hey, dumbass."
"'Sup, idiot," he mumbled, before opening his eyes at least. "Can't believe you’re kissing Cobra. Disgusting."
"You look disgusting."
He gave her the tongue, then stared at Ian for a few seconds before pointing a finger to him. "You."
And as he went to Ian, Hamilton turned to Amy with his hand up for a high five. "Nice one, Ames."
"I feel objectified," said Ian.
"I'll turn your face into an object if you decide to play around with my sister."
Amy laughed at Dan's threat, but Ian looked like he was taking it very seriously. "I won't play around. I really like Amy."
Dan froze in the spot. He wasn't expecting that answer. "Huh. That's good, I guess."
Amy passed through him ruffling his hair and smiled at Ian. "I think I'm going back to the party. Do you want to-"
"Yes." Ian grabbed both of their abandoned drinks and handed one to her (it was still surprisingly cold). "See you guys later, we should check out what atrocities Natalie and Sinead are saying about us."
When they reached the door they could hear Dan shout, "I'm watching you, Cobra!"
Amy smiled to herself and intertwined their fingers. "So you wanna mess with Sinead and Natalie a little?"
Ian gave her an accomplice smile. "Always."