Always You by Lizzie Morton
Eleven
I agreed I would hold back a bit on the work front, but I can’t turn away the money I’m being offered, so my work life feels busier than ever over the following week. Luckily, Sophie and Zoe understand when I explain that things will quieten off soon. I neglect to mention that my dad’s been dropping hints about a big project working with his company that will take up a huge chunk of my time. That can wait.
I’ve managed to grab a Sunday night off from Riffs, which I use as an opportunity to spend time with the girls on their own, making up for my absence. We can talk freely without fear of the guys listening in, especially when we’re talking about more serious subjects.
“Are you going to come for a wax with us?” asks Zoe from across the table.
“No.” We’ve been having the same conversation for the past few minutes.
“Oh, come on. We’ve seen your vagina so many times, Abby, it’s nothing new.” She rolls her eyes.
“I’m aware of that. I just don’t want it doing.” I squeeze my thighs together at the thought of the pain. No thank you.
Sophie snorts into her drink and some of the other diners begin listening in to our conversation. It’s hard not to with the volume Zoe’s speaking at.
Getting louder, Zoe says, “But, babe, what do you do with it?”
“What do you mean, what do I do with it?” I hiss, feeling flustered. I suggested a smaller, more intimate Italian, close to where we all live and away from the bar scene. I hoped keeping the night low key would help to keep the girls under control. I should have known better than to try and contain the beasts. All I’ve done is move the humiliation to a smaller environment, where everyone can hear clearly the details of some of the awful conversations that I am regularly subjected to.
“Isn’t it like fluffy and out of control if you don’t wax?” Zoe continues, totally oblivious to our audience.
“It’s not the dark ages, Zo, there are other options to maintain that area besides waxing.” An old lady throws us a seriously dirty look, and it’s then that I give up all hope of a civilized evening. “Fuck it, this isn’t working. Let’s go next door to the cocktail bar. At least there I don’t have to worry about small children hearing the ridiculous shit you’re both coming out with.”
We quickly make our way to the hostess at the front of the restaurant, giving her enough cash to cover our meal even though we haven’t even eaten yet, and then exit swiftly.
Behind me I can hear Zoe grumbling to herself. “Why is she always so grumpy? Is it permanently shark week or something?”
Meanwhile Sophie chants, “Cocktails!” over and over as she follows me into the bar.
I begin to relax when we eventually get settled with a selection of cocktails that are almost as big as me, and an even bigger selection of shots. The music is loud enough that people can’t hear what we’re saying which is a blessing as the girls have no filter.
Raising a shot glass in the air, Sophie encourages Zoe and I to do the same, and says, “To girls’ night.”
We clink our shots together, and then knock them back in one go. As the putrid liquid makes its way down our throats, Sophie and I begin choking.
“Fuck, Zoe, what the hell did you buy?” I barely manage to wheeze out, as the burn in my throat is strong.
“Teeeeeqqqquuuuuilllllaaa,” she shouts grinning.
“We need girls’ night more often,” says Sophie. “That woman’s face every time you said vagina.”
She begins howling with laughter, as Zoe chants, “vagina, vagina, vagina,” getting louder each time. If I thought we wouldn’t draw attention here, I was wrong. I can feel the alcohol kicking in though, and rather than telling them to shut the hell up, I join in, giggling and forgetting how immature they’re being.
“How did we even get onto the conversation of why I need to wax my vagina?” I ask. Amidst the slight alcohol fog, I remember there was something Zoe wanted to speak about.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” says Zoe, then screeches, “group road trip!”
“Group road trip? When?” I ask. “I can’t just drop everything. I have to work you know.”
“No, you don’t. It’s only for three nights and we’re two weeks away from the 4th of July. Shaun said the bar is ridiculously quiet as everyone saves their energy for the big day. He said you can have the time off and even he’s coming. Plus, we checked with your parents and they said your diary is free, so just don’t book anything else in.”
“My parents knew about this, but I didn’t?”
“We wanted to keep it a surprise and tell you closer to the time. We knew you would say no otherwise and find a way out of it,” murmurs Sophie into her drink, refusing to look me in the eye.
“When do we go?” I’ve resigned myself to the fact there’s no way I’m getting out of it. “Also, where are we going?”
“Day after tomorrow, bright and early, leaving at five. We’re tag teaming the carpool as it’s a long drive to Lake Placid.” Sophie clears up the minor details as Zoe has lost interest now the surprise is over with.
I raise my eyebrows. “So, we’re basically going to Canada?”
“No. We’re still in New York the state, just not the city. Come on, Abby, it’s so beautiful. The group’s been doing it the past few years, and we knew we had to take you there now you’re finally home.”
It’s a completely unreasonable reaction, as I’m the one that’s been working away all these years and refusing to come back, but I feel rather dejected at the news. It’s hard not to focus on the fact I’ve missed out on so many memories with the group. There’s only one way to fix that, I’m going on the trip and making sure I don’t miss out on this year’s memories.
One thing bugs me. They haven’t clarified who exactly is going on the trip, and really, it’s an important detail. “Who’s we by the way?”
“Well ...” Zoe, quickly reels off a list of names. “There’s me, you and Soph obviously. Shaun, Sam, Zach, Jake and Amanda.” The last two names come particularly fast.
Clearly, she’s hoping to get them by, without me realizing. The effort is pointless though, as my Jake radar is in full force. I dislike that his name has been tagged on the end with Amanda. It’s a name I don’t recognize, and it makes me feel uneasy.
“Who’s Amanda?” I follow the question with a large gulp of my drink. I’m not sure why I asked when deep down I know the answer.
“Erm…” Sophie takes a deep breath then continues to answer. “She’s Jake’s girlfriend. She’s been coming for the past couple of years they’ve been together. We weren’t sure if she would this year as she’s been away with work, but she got back last night and said she’s game. I think you’d really like her if you let yourself. She’s nice, and you’re both similar in ways and totally have stuff in common.”
“Things like Jake,” I say, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice. I’m not sure how they expect me to make friends with the person who has everything I ever wanted. The person who got what I couldn’t have.
“Come on, Abs,” urges Zoe. “You have Michael. You’ve been telling us all you’ve moved on, so what’s the big deal?”
It’s possible the alcohol is taking over, as I didn’t plan on anyone knowing this, (anyone apart from Zach) but I find myself saying, “Jake and I had a weird moment.”
“What sort of weird moment?” snaps Zoe. Okay, so she’s not a fan of the news.
“The night we went to the gig. I bumped into him and it felt like something happened between us.”
“How did we miss this? Did you kiss?” asks Sophie. Her frown gives away that she also isn’t impressed.
Trying not to get agitated by their reactions, I pause before replying, “Of course, we didn’t. I’m with Michael. I would never do that to him. You guys know I would never cheat.”
“With anyone else … this is Jake though.” Sophie’s face is full of concern, making me feel worse than I did before. “We remember how bad it was. We were there, remember? He’s changed, Abby, and he’s not the same guy. He’s grown up and it’d be easy to get drawn back in.”
My voice goes a pitch higher when I say, “I’m not getting drawn back into anything! I promise. It was just a look. A slightly heated, get your panties wet kind of look, but that’s all.” Even I don’t believe what I’m saying.
Zoe sighs and it feels like our roles have been reversed. “We get it. We just don’t want to see you get hurt. He was your everything, and when all that went down, you were broken. You’ve never been the same since and I can’t watch you go through that twice. I agree with Sophie though. He’s changed. I don’t think he would do that to you again, but still …”
“He wouldn’t do anything because he has a girlfriend and I have a boyfriend. He’s not interested. He broke up with me remember …?”
Zoe’s answer is confusing things. Between them, they seem to be forgetting what happened between Jake and me, even though they’re saying otherwise.
“You’re both attached. Yes,” says Sophie, “but the history between you guys is massive. Stuff like that doesn’t just go away. Plus, Zach’s been asking things since you’ve been back. He’s definitely digging.”
“What do you think he’s digging for?” I ask.
“I’m not sure. He’s just been asking whether you’ve mentioned Jake, things like that. Maybe they’ve been speaking about you. Fuck. I don’t know. Seriously, this is stressing me out. I need another drink.” She stands up abruptly and walks to the bar.
Seeing Sophie stressed is concerning as it’s not like her. Her and Zoe don’t get stressed about anything.
I watch Sophie walk off and Zoe rubs my shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t feel bad. She always gets emotional about the, you and Jake stuff. She hates seeing you hurting.”
“Who said I was hurting?”
“Maybe you’re not hurting, but this is going to affect you somehow. If you guys had a moment, it means something is still there.”
I get what she’s saying, and there’s truth in it, but I’m in no place to begin acknowledging what it might mean, so I opt for my favorite thing. Denial.
“Nothing’s there. We hate each other like we have for years, so everything’s fine. Let’s forget I mentioned anything.”
“If you’re sure?”
I’m not, but I don’t say it out loud. There’s so much left unsaid about how I really feel seeing Jake again. Then there’s the state of mine and Michael’s relationship and even my career. Rather than facing up to my problems, returning to Brooklyn has become an excellent way to ignore them and the decisions I need to make.
“I’m sure,” I lie, putting an end to the conversation. With perfect timing, Sophie returns carrying another round of drinks for us all.
“I’m better now.” She’s relaxed considerably since going to the bar, and I wonder whether she managed to sneak in an extra drink to chill her out, before coming back. “So, we leave early Tuesday morning. Have your game face on because we are going to have so much fun. And you will be nice to Amanda, even if it kills you.”
The last part is a little aggressive, but I’m proud of her for standing her ground instead of it being Zoe.
“Great.” I take my drink and knock the whole thing back in one. “Can’t wait. Wooo, Lake Placid!” The cheering motion may have been a bit over enthusiastic, as they both roll their eyes. The rest of the night passes without any mention of Jake.
