2 #2
“Dad or troublemaker?” He is referring to Anastasia and her affinity for landing herself in shit that raises our mother’s pulse. Him and her can never have a civil conversation, bickering is second nature to them.
“The former but I’ll tell you about it later. For now, can you please make me something decent to drink? This is awful,” I wave the beer in my hand at him and put a thumbs down. Dan is excellent at making any kind of drink, I desperately missed his batch of Pimm’s this summer.
“You should’ve come looking for me as soon as you got here instead of hiding,” he tells me with a knowing stare, daring me to deny it, and I do.
“I wasn’t hiding, just resting until I had to go be around all of them.”
“I saw the pictures,” he interrupts.
“What pictures?” I feign confusion.
His face grows a little serious as he gestures to my eyes. “This is about him, I can tell.”
“It’s not a big deal, we went out to eat brunch. Friends have brunch. Not everything I do is about him.”
“Yes, it is.” he says matter-of-factly. “And the two of you have never been just friends.”
My lips downturns because I know he is right, even if I don’t want to hear it. He holds out his hand to me, “Let’s go find the others, we’ve been waiting for you.” I have no choice but to take it and follow him.
The living room is packed with a multitude of faces, many of whom I recognise from uni and others I have never seen before but that’s how these always go. It doesn’t matter who hosts, the parties always bring on a herd of stragglers who want to exist in proximity to us.
We spot MJ and Arden together, the former has a drink in hand swaying to the music in her short sequined purple dress with spaghetti straps and heels that accentuates her legs. You wouldn’t be able to tell she was five-foot three.
Next to them sits the final member of our group, Devon Cohen-Lee, simultaneously bored and amused as she watches MJ dance.
The media calls her United Nations simply because her mother is half Chinese half Dutch while her father is half Korean half English (their nicknames are never creative nor good, they also call her the Ice Queen because all her pap shots are of her glaring).
Her dark hair is pin straight and almost to her waist, wearing a silver halter top and black skirt.
She is a dancer like me, we met in ballet class as kids and were joined at the hip.
She became fast friends with Arden and Daniel too, which was how it became the four of us.
It is different now though, more tense and charged between me and her.
Some days I wonder why I keep her in my life considering all we ever do is argue.
Before, she was my designated girl best friend, but for some reason when Madeleine-James came into the picture, it felt like she couldn’t tolerate being around me.
I get it, because most days I too can barely tolerate being around me.
In spite of it all, she is family and the five of us have been in each other’s lives for so long we really don’t know how to exist without each other.
Arden notices me first. His six-foot four frame sits on a chair against the wall, unflinching and bored, his long legs crossed.
He is neither lean nor too broad but you can tell he works out.
He’s been playing tennis since he was five years old, if you can’t find him in the classroom your next bet is the tennis court.
I am doing everything in my power not to draw attention to Arden’s inescapable presence. It takes all of me not to look at him but at my best friend who notices me immediately after and runs to jump into my arms, “Annie, we’ve been waiting for you.” Each word she says is slurred and elongated.
“I couldn’t leave you to run the gaff alone for too long,” I say, with a smile holding her face. Arden watches me as I speak to my best friend, his stares feel so heavy. Like he is peeling off all the layers and can see right through me.
“Buzzkill duo have been trying to cut me off,” she mock-whispers with a frown.
“Ugh, they suck,” I jokingly frown at her.
“Don’t they just?” she says, and we fall into a fit of giggles, as Arden and Devon both roll their eyes.
“I forget how much I hate being in the same space as the two of you,” Devon grumbles.
She is sat by the miniature bar that Dan never let anyone use besides him (he is very particular about his things).
Batting my eyes, I walk right up to her and plant a loud, obnoxious peck on her cheek, “Nice to see you too.”
She glares but leaves the mark of the red lipstick on her cheek.
“How much has she had to drink?” I point to MJ who is doing a version of the worm upright.
“One too many,” Devon replies, she nods to Arden, “That’s why he told her the last one in her hand is the final.”
“She’s already pissed anyway. If she’s going to wake up with a hangover tomorrow she might as well drink as much as she wants.”
“As usual, terrible advice,” she replies, and I just shrug.
The night continues without a blip until Devon asks, “How come you’re not dancing out there? You’re usually the life of the party.”
“Don’t feel like it.”
“That’s new. Is this about the brunch I’ve heard so much about?”
I glare at Daniel behind me who raises his hands in surrender. “Fuck’s sake, nothing happened. The pictures mean nothing,” I say, my voice rising with each word as I try to believe my own lie.
“You’re acting odd, St. Annabel,” she says, her eyes narrowing.
“I’m far too sober for this conversation.”
A second later, Dan hands me a strawberry daiquiri and I kiss his hands in thanks, which is a very normal thing to do but for the first time had catastrophic repercussions.
MJ sees this from where she’s dancing with one of the Spinelli twins and a drunk mischievous smile lands on her face, one that I know could only lead nowhere good, she comes over and leans against the bar and slurs, “Why have you two never dated? I think you’d look so cute together. ”
Daniel freezes mid-making another drink and his eyes flicker above me to where Arden is sitting, who when I turn has also paused.
I feel my cheeks heat up and get up to press my hands over her mouth to stop her from talking, “Definitely no more drinks for you.” She licks my hand and makes muffled noises, I give her a look asking her if she was done being a recluse.
But a loud noise has us both flinching and looking to our immediate right where it came from. Arden walked out.
Dan drops what he’s doing, ready to go after his best friend, he turns our way before stepping out. “I’ll check on him. Don’t worry about it, he probably needed some fresh air.”
He hurriedly adds on, “Make sure she stays hydrated so she’s not sick, at least not while we’re not here.” I give him a quick nod as he chases after Arden, whose sudden antics have thrown his pouting girlfriend for a loop as she stands there wondering what she’d done or said wrong to set him off.
“Hey princess, we're gonna find a place to sit that’s not so loud, okay?” I tell her
She nods and rests her head on my shoulder. “Désolée, je suis pompette.” Sorry, I’m really drunk.
“I’ll take her upstairs,” I tell Devon who nods in understanding.
We find ourselves in an empty room and shut the door to quiet the noise from the party going on.
MJ almost dozes off next to me but I try to keep her awake to make sure she has enough water in her.
After what feels like hours, the door opens to reveal Arden.
Calmer than he was before but still having remnants of the anger wafting off him.
MJ’s eyes slowly but surely open to focus on him.
He doesn’t even spare me a glance as he crouches in front of his girlfriend, the two of them whispering for their ears only.
There it is again. The envy that fills me like a well, he carries her in a bear hug with her legs wrapped around him. She waves a weak, sleepy goodbye to me and slumps against her boyfriend.
I feel a sting in my heart, the sight affecting me more than it should. Her boyfriend. He’ll always be her boyfriend. I have to make sure that sticks.
Dan stands by the door as we watch them both leave together, he looks at me “Do you want to stay here tonight?” and I nod in response, he kisses the top of my head and wraps a hand around me as I try not to cry, overwhelmed by the night.