Chapter 12
“I can’t believe he was a college professor!
” Morgan had cried. They were outside Phebe’s while Avery was taking a vape break.
Richard—that was his name—had left to go somewhere else, probably some whiskey bar to smoke a cigar and discuss Foucault with his peers like the intellectual he thought he was.
“He looked so young in the dark! I thought he was thirty, max,” Avery said.
Morgan shivered in disgust. “Well, the license in his wallet said otherwise. He probably thought you were a student. Which is even more gross.”
“He totally did. He asked what I studied in school. I thought it was to be relatable, but it was, like, in a dad way.” Avery chucked her vape into her purse and searched for a cigarette instead.
“Come on,” Morgan insisted as Avery popped an unlit cigarette into her mouth. “You don’t need one of those.”
“Yes, I do,” Avery mumbled.
“Why?”
“Because I’m an idiot.”
Morgan took the cigarette out of Avery’s mouth and flicked it into the garbage. Then she threaded her arm through Avery’s and smiled. “But you’re my idiot.”
Tears burned Avery’s eyes now. She sat down on an empty seat in a subway car that smelled of breakfast sandwiches and the tangy mix of strangers’ freshly applied perfume.
It had only been a couple of days since she and Morgan last spoke, but since they usually talked every day, two days felt like a lifetime.
Avery wondered if she’d gotten too used to screwing up, knowing her best friend would be there for her unconditionally.
Not only had Morgan forgiven Avery senior year after thinking Avery made one of the most unforgiveable mistakes you can make in a relationship, but she had stopped Avery from charring her lungs with cigarette smoke, had once sent her money for a train ticket home after a drunken bender ended in Philadelphia, and had accompanied her to CityMD for her various STD scares.
She’d helped Avery out of the hospital, offered emotional support, sacrificed sleep.
And she did it all without complaint. But she shouldn’t have to deal with Avery’s screwups now, during what was supposed to be her year.
Avery emerged from the subway and went to La Colombe near her office for a black coffee.
She chugged nearly half of her drink in one gulp, letting the stifling liquid scald her throat as she lingered in front of her building and stared at her phone.
If she didn’t call Morgan right this second, she was going to chug more hot coffee and spend the rest of the day with a burning, aching mouth, and this would be a punishment she would deserve wholeheartedly.
She dialed Morgan’s number with her shaky fingers.
“Hello?” Morgan answered.
“Hey!” Avery said, breathless and grateful. “Wow, I’m so glad to hear your voice.”
“What’s up? How was your weekend?”
Avery blinked back tears, stared up at the sky. Morgan’s voice was suspiciously normal, but Avery didn’t want to sweep what happened at the engagement party under the rug. She knew, from that last Sure. text, that Morgan was upset.
“It was fine.” Avery moved out of the way of a young-looking intern carrying a four-cup drink holder filled with beverages.
“Look, I wanna say again how sorry I am for leaving you at the engagement party. I was hammered and I just couldn’t be around everyone anymore. I hope … I hope you understand.”
Morgan sighed. A fire engine wailed in the background on her end of the line. “I do understand. I just want everything to go as smoothly as possible this year. Minimal casualties.”
Avery nodded desperately into the receiver. “I know. I want the same thing.”
“And I know that’s tough for you with our friends around, and I’m sympathetic to that, but …” Morgan trailed off. “But I need you to try. For me.”
Avery tossed her coffee into a steel trash receptacle.
She needed to pull it together. She’d known that their old friends would be in the wedding party, at all the wedding events.
She may not have known Noah would be around, too, but she needed to get over that, lest he ruin her friendship with Morgan like he ruined everything else.
She needed to be better at keeping his effect on her a secret.
All she had to do was make it to the wedding in August, and then this whole thing would be over.
And it was already nearly the end of January. She could do this.
“I swear I’ll be okay, Morgan. I’m gonna be the most incredible maid of honor you’ve ever had. You’ll see.”
Morgan didn’t respond right away. Avery approached the entrance to her office with her key in her hand, ready to go through the double doors and scan herself through the security turnstiles.
But she did not want to stop this phone call.
Not even the massive German shepherd police dog barking a few feet away prompted her to move inside for safety.
She wasn’t hanging up until they were okay, until Morgan knew that Avery was going to support her like she’d supported Avery, through everything.
“Come with me to a bridal expo in Williamsburg later?” Morgan said when she finally spoke. “I’m warning you though, it’s kind of deep in Williamsburg. Like, thirty-dollar-cab-ride-from-Union-Square deep.”
Avery threw her fist in the air. “Count me in .”
The bridal expo was actually a fifty-dollar cab ride into Williamsburg.
Avery probably could have taken the subway, but Morgan wanted to meet promptly at 6 PM , before all the good vendors left, and Avery didn’t get out of work until 5:30.
Her credit card wailed in agony as she sliced it through the machine in the cab.
She made a mental note to pack lunch next week.
Leftover takeout from the night before or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches—that was it.
She opened the cab door to the sight of Morgan waiting outside and scrolling idly through her phone.
“Hi,” Morgan said when she looked up.
It was possible there was a hint of sadness in Morgan’s voice, but perhaps Avery was imagining it. Avery walked slowly, cautiously, toward her best friend.
“Hi.” She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from tearing up as they hugged hello. The embrace lasted longer than it normally would have, with Avery holding on tighter as a silent reaffirming of her apology, and Morgan letting her.
When they released, Morgan gave a small smile that put Avery at ease. Avery smiled back. Maybe they really were going to be okay.
“Ready?” Morgan asked.
She led them both toward the expo, held in a sprawling banquet hall inside a luxury hotel.
Conversations among brides-to-be echoed throughout the space, where bakeries, limousine services, photography studios, and dozens more vendors were lined up in neat rows.
Morgan and Avery made a beeline to sample red velvet cake at a bakery booth before continuing around the rest of the expo, stopping at a station selling cornhole boards that you could personalize with your and your fianc é ’s initials.
Avery raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t even known this kind of thing existed.
Morgan excitedly ran her fingers over the initials engraved on the display sample. She turned to a tired guy doing a crossword puzzle who appeared to be manning the booth.
“How much?” she asked.
He glanced up from behind his reading glasses. “Three thousand.”
Morgan paused like she was considering it. Avery ushered her away.
“No way,” Avery said. “You’re not wasting your money on that.”
They meandered through more rows of booths, eating more slices of cake and listening to more DJs’ mixtapes and talking to more makeup artists.
Morgan asked Avery for her opinions on everything—yes to the red velvet cake, no to this DJ’s bizarre eighties synth playlist, absolutely not to this makeup artist’s cat-eye pinup looks—and Avery swelled with pride every time she answered Morgan’s questions, every time she felt herself getting Morgan’s trust back.
That Morgan was a compassionate person didn’t mean Avery had free reign to screw up and be welcomed back into the friendship with open arms every single time.
Love between best friends was not always unconditional.
You had to be there for each other even when it was hard, otherwise trust could weaken and your relationship could demote to something more distant.
As long as Avery acted exactly this supportive until the wedding, manifesting these same good feelings whenever she had to be around Noah, all would be well.
After another lap around the expo, Morgan and Avery took a break at a photographer’s booth.
Lots of couples had the same idea, packing themselves tightly into the small walled area to admire all the sample photos scattered around the space.
A man scooted behind Avery, sliding his hand across her lower back and lingering at her hip bone.
She jumped at the icky feeling crawling all over her skin.
How had he managed to touch her there? Her black puffer coat completely concealed her hips.
Sometimes it seemed to Avery like every man fell somewhere along the spectrum of entitlement.
On one end were the men who stared openly at a woman’s cleavage, as though they were permitted to be creeps simply because they had eyes.
The disgusting man in this booth who’d copped a feel fell somewhere in the middle. And then, on the other end, was Noah.
Morgan slumped on top of a photo album on a high-top table. “I’m so tired. Taking care of Scout is exhausting. At night he barks every hour. I’m lucky if I fall asleep for forty-five minutes before I have to wake up again.” She smiled sleepily to herself. “But I love him so much.”
That stupid fucking dog. “Well, let me make your life easier.” This could be Avery’s chance for redemption. “Let me get started on planning your bridal shower. Actually, I’ll do it all.”
“Really? You don’t have to do it by yourself.”