I nod. “To us.”
We clink glasses and take a sip. “What were you doing before I got here? Studying, right?”
“Yeah. Um, Trin was helping me. I’m, um, having a hard time in some classes, but she’s a good tutor.”
“What kind of trouble you having?”
I walk over to the couch and Bishop follows. “I’m just not finding a groove. It’s so much reading and papers and bullshit. I don’t feel like you learn shit except how to follow a bunch of rules.”
“Don’t you like reading?”
“Yeah, for fun. I don’t like reading about gross profit margins in China.”
“Hmm.” He sips his wine. “Have you considered changing your major?”
“I’m too far behind in credits.”
“What do you want to do?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I don’t want to disappoint my dad, so I just keep trying. My grades have come up a little with Trin’s help.”
“Good.”
“But I wish I could just go out in the world and get a job and learn life by living it. You did it and turned out amazing.”
“I got lucky.” He cups my chin. “If you were my son, I would want you to go to school too. I would want your path to be easier than mine. That’s all he wants too.”
“I know.” I smile. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Like what?”
“I want to know things about you. What do you do to relax?”
“I like to take baths. I’m not good at reading, but I love watching design shows and reading design magazines. I’m always trying to improve myself. I want to be the best in my field.”
“Dad says you already are.”
Bishop smiles. “That’s kind. I’ve done well, but I have competition.”
“That’s good though, right? It keeps you growing.”
“Exactly.”
“What’s your favorite movie?”
Bishop twists his lips for a moment. “Hmm, probably Goodfellas. I love mafia shit.”
I laugh. “I like those movies, but I like comedies more. I just like to laugh. Even if it’s dumb.”
He studies my face for a moment. “Maybe what Trinity told us is true. Maybe you’re the yin to my yang. My opposite. Even though our situation is wrong, maybe we’re meant to be anyway.”
“It’s only wrong in one person’s eyes. It’s perfect to me.”
“Perfectly wrong?” A smile gleams in his eyes. “That’s almost poetic. Despite the odds, I can’t seem to let you go, Tristan. I don’t want to.”
“That sounds like poetry to me.”
“You haven’t met anyone?”
