Chapter 10
T he park was filled with high school students on lunch break. Julie wouldn’t mind it if some of them weren’t insisting on playing basketball right next to the bench where she was sitting.
“Hey! Be careful with that!” Claire exclaimed when the ball startled her and bounced right at her feet.
The teenagers stared at the two women as if they were alien invaders. Julie knew that they were in high-schooler territory and that all arguing was pointless. She avoided making eye contact with them. Claire tried to win the staring contest with a death glare, but Julie elbowed her.
“Leave it, Claire. We’re in our thirties. We’re like elderly ladies to them. They won’t respect us.”
“Kids these days!” Claire shook her head.
“Be careful! You’re going to hit the old ladies again!” One of the teenagers yelled at his friend who was holding the ball.
Julie looked at Claire. “See? That’s what I was trying to tell you.”
“Oh god. You were right.” Claire looked like the words physically hurt her. “Do you want to go for a walk? I’m done with my lunch anyway.”
Julie nodded and they both stood up, walking away from the lawless teens.
“What are your plans this weekend?” Claire asked, balling up her paper lunch bag and tossing it into a nearby bin.
“Yasmine’s hen do is starting tonight and will last the entire weekend.”
Claire’s eyes widened. “Is whatsherface going to be there?”
Julie didn’t want to answer that question, because she knew Claire would make it a thing. But she needed to hear what Claire had to say about it. “Yes, Zoe will be there.”
“Oh god, Julie. You’re living on the edge. How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling fine. It’s alright.”
Claire stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. “How are you really feeling?”
Julie panicked. “I’m feeling like a mess. I don’t know how but I managed to become absolutely obsessed with her. I can’t stop thinking about what she’ll look like, what it’s going to be like to talk to her again.”
“Oh, Julie. That’s so cute. But also terrible. Did you manage to get a date for the wedding?”
“I tried to! It went very badly. It’s gonna be me on my own.”
“Is she coming with a plus one?”
Julie sighed. “I don’t know! I don’t know anything! I tried to not ask anything about her to Yasmine because I didn’t want to get too interested in her, but then it had the opposite effect. I know that she’s engaged to a famous actor but I have no clue if he’ll be there.”
“A famous actor?” Claire raised her brow. “Like, a famous Belgian actor?”
“No, a famous British actor.” Julie suddenly realised that she hadn’t told Claire any details about Zoe. “My girl’s quite famous. It’s Zoe Lang. The British celebrity chef.”
“Are you joking?”
“I wish I was.”
Claire rubbed her face with her hands. “Of all the Julie things that happened, this is the most Julie thing.” She looked at Julie with terror in her eyes.
“You can’t do this. She’s a hot famous person who’s engaged to another hot famous person.
I’m sorry, you’re my friend and I love you, but this is a whole other level. ”
Julie nodded slowly. “I think if she talks to me tonight, I’m going to instantly turn into a puddle. I already had a crush on her back when she was a nobody but now with her star power, I can’t really compete.”
Claire grabbed Julie’s shoulders. “Listen. I think the best way for you to not get hurt is to avoid her. Just say the strict minimum amount of words to her. Nod politely. But oh god, I really don’t want to be in your position right now.”
“Do you think that’s a good plan? Avoiding her?”
“Do you think you can avoid absolutely falling for her if you just behave normally around her?”
“There’s a chance that she might be an awful person who’s very condescending and mean to me and then I would get instantly over her.”
Claire looked sceptical. “You really believe that?”
“No!” Julie stretched her face with her hands in horror. “Yasmine told me she asked about me and that she was excited to hang out with all of us again. She seems so nice!”
“Julie, you’re so doomed.”
“Thank you, Claire, for your sage advice in these troubled times,” Julie said sarcastically.
“Look, if I had better advice for you, I’d give it. But this is above my friend-pay grade.”
* * *
Julie’s palms were sweaty as she hurried towards the restaurant to meet Yasmine and her fellow hen party-goers.
Of course, she was late again. But she had a good excuse: she’d been picking up the hen do shirts from the printing shop.
Yasmine didn’t know that the party was starting tonight already.
She was currently enjoying dinner with her group of bridesmaids and friends and still thought that it would only start the next day.
Julie would then barge in with the t-shirts and declare the party started.
The cobblestones of the Brussels city centre streamed under Julie’s feet. She started counting them to get her mind away from the sheer sentiment of panic that had settled in her entire body.
“Hey! Careful where you‘re going!”
Julie lifted her head to see that she had bumped into a very unimpressed man. “Oh sorry! I didn’t see you, I was looking at the stones.” Julie’s social skills were gone tonight.
“Clearly!” The man walked away while staring down Julie. “Why is this place always full of weirdos?”
Julie stopped for a moment, realising that she was standing in the middle of the Grand Place of Brussels.
Its mediaeval buildings were looking down on her and she felt very small.
Like a speck of dust in the universe. In the grand scheme of things, none of what happened between Zoe and her really mattered, did it?
She stood for a minute more before accepting that cynical realism was pointless to her tonight.
Her hands hadn’t stopped sweating and the bag of t-shirts she was holding kept slipping from her grip. Julie headed towards the restaurant.
She followed the cobblestone streets straight to a large boulevard and crossed it.
She could see the bistro they were all at.
Just a few steps more and she’d be in the same room as Zoe.
Julie had gone to the hairdresser this week and taken an hour to get ready for the evening because of her.
She felt so restless as her hand touched the door of the restaurant.
She peered around before seeing the large table of people sitting at the back of the hip bistro.
Wait.
Julie couldn’t see Zoe at the table. She couldn’t see an empty chair either.
A feeling of relief and longing flooded her at the same time.
But Julie’s nerves immediately got better.
Zoe was a famous person, probably she had better things to do than hang out with a bunch of Brusselers on a Friday night.
She briskly walked towards the table, her full confidence back.
“I declare this hen do open!” She exclaimed, throwing t-shirts at every hen around the table.
The entire mood of the table changed instantly, just as she’d planned.
Everyone was shouting and cheering. Yasmine was immediately laughing so hard, she was nearly in tears.
A woman sitting next to her - Marion, a colleague of Yasmine’s - stood up and started recording the scene on her phone.
Another hen - Leila, one of Yasmine’s cousins - was holding her t-shirt spread out and roared with laughter when she saw that there was Yasmine’s face printed on it and “Team Mariée” written above.
Julie was grinning as she walked around, taking in people’s reactions.
Clearly, she’d done a good job with the t-shirts and now the evening was only going to get better.
Her mind had drifted away from Zoe the minute she heard all of the happy shouts.
“Excuse me.”
Julie felt a light tap on her arm. Her blood froze. She could recognise that British voice anywhere. She turned around and her face dropped.
Zoe was stunning. Her hair looked even better than on the pictures Julie had seen online.
She had a light smile on her face and Julie couldn’t help but look her up and down.
The college student she used to know had grown into a beautiful woman with curves in all the right places.
Zoe’s eyes were still those two beautiful deep dark circles that could suck the world into them.
“Hi Julie.” Zoe put a hand on Julie’s wrist. “It’s been a while.”
Zoe’s touch was burning like a piece of hot coal.
Julie was paralysed. In all the scenarios she ran in her head, this was the worst one and it was the one that was happening right now.
The chaos of the group behind Julie was very loud and she was thankful for that.
That meant nobody could see the impending disaster that was happening in her corner.
She kept thinking how stupid she’d been for not guessing that Zoe had just been to the bathroom or something.
And that she was probably sharing the bench with Yasmine, that’s why there were no empty chairs.
Zoe leaned forward and looked into Julie’s bag. “Is there a shirt for me in there?”
Julie blinked stupidly at her, struggling to answer.
Her English was quite good - in college, it had been all she ever spoke with Zoe, whose French was pretty limited, and she often worked in English with foreign clients.
But now, while she’d understood Zoe’s question in English perfectly, her brain was refusing to supply her with the correct words to respond.
It was refusing to supply her with any information, really, besides that Zoe smelled exactly the same as she had the day she’d left Belgium, which was deeply unhelpful.
After a moment of spluttering, another thought occurred to her that a linguistic mismatch might be a great excuse to avoid a lot of conversations this weekend.
Maybe convincing Zoe that she’d lost her English could be Julie’s way out of this mess?