Sincerely, Yours

by G. , Whitney

  “Morning.”

  “Did you or one of my roommates make the coffee?”

  “I did.”

  “So, there’s no hazelnut?”

  “No.” I stood up and made her a cup, adding the hazelnut shots that I always left out whenever I made the coffee. While I was adding her usual three packets of artificial sweetener, she took a seat on the barstool across from me, still avoiding my gaze.

  “What do you have planned for this weekend?” I slid her mug across the counter.

  “My usual summer weekend routine: Gayle’s with you at some point, stealing a class from the culinary school and hoping I won’t get kicked out. Oh, and late-night drinks with Nicole on Sunday.”

  “If she doesn’t stand you up.”

  “Yes. If she doesn’t stand me up.” She took a long sip of her coffee—finally letting her eyes meet mine. “What about you?”

  “Gayle’s with you at some point. I have some errands I need to run and I need to pick up a few books on the law school’s summer reading list. I’ll probably do something with Josh as well.”

  Silence.

  She brought her mug to her lips and tilted it higher, nearly downing the entire cup.

  “Your roommates want you to know that they need you to buy more coffee and dish soap,” I said. “They claim it’s your turn, so whenever you get a chance—”

  “We’re really not going to talk about last night?” She cut me off. “We’re just going to act like that shit didn’t happen?”

  “No.” I smiled. “What part do you want to talk about, Ari?”

  “How about the part where my best friend, since fourth grade, fucked me? Or maybe we should discuss the part where he took my silence and utter shock to mean that I wanted him to perform cunnilingus on me? Yeah, you know what? Let’s start there. Shall we?”

  “First of all, I’ve been your best friend since fifth grade. I hated you in fourth grade, and we didn’t start speaking cordially until the end of the year. Long after you got me in trouble for like the fiftieth time.”

  “Out of all the things I just said, that’s what you want to discuss first?”

  “No.” I walked over to her and placed my hands on her shoulders. “So, we had sex last night. It happened, and from what I recall, you weren’t very ‘silent’ about anything.”

  Her jaw dropped and I laughed, shutting her lips with my fingers.

  “I’m kidding,” I said. “I don’t think we have to have an intervention-type discussion about it, though. Last night doesn’t change anything between us.”

  “You promise?”

  “I do.”

  “Do you also promise to never talk about it, or let it happen again because we don’t want to lose each other as friends, and we both know that sex ruins friendships? Undeniably and inevitably ruins them?”

  “Is that a question or a statement?”

  “It’s both.”

  “In that case, yes.” I cupped her face in my hands and looked into her eyes. “We won’t let it happen again because we both value our friendship too much.”

  “Good.” She exhaled. “So, just to be clear, last night never happened.”

  “Correct.” I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and stepped back. “I was never here.”

  “Great.” She slid off the barstool. “Well, I’m going to get ready for a class and then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at Gayle’s. Can you pick me up around eleven thirty?”

  “I can.”

  We stared at each other in silence, not saying anything else.

  “Okay, well.” She stepped back. “It’s only nine so, you go home, I’ll stay here, and I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  I averted my gaze away from her lips. “Sounds about right.”

  “Oh, and Carter?” She looked at me.

  “Yeah?”

  “It was definitely fourth grade. We became best friends in fourth grade.”

  “You need to let that go.” I laughed and headed for the door. “It was definitely fifth.”

  * * *

  I couldn’t make the shower water hot enough. I needed it to tear at my skin harder, faster. Regardless of what I’d said to Arizona at her place, it was going to take a hell of a lot for me to forget last night for a number of reasons: One, it was hands down the best sex I’d ever had in my life. Two: Her soft pleas and moans were still playing through my mind on repeat. And three: I’d actually felt something while we were looking into each other’s eyes at one point, something that had never happened to me during sex before.

  Shit …

  Frustrated by the water, I turned it off and stepped out of the shower. I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked into my kitchen.

  “Long night?” Josh set his newspaper down and looked up at me.

  “Not really. Just stayed over at Ari’s.”

  “Let me guess, she made you watch another one of those boring ass cooking shows and ‘allowed’ you to sleep on her couch?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Ridiculous.” He stood up and followed me over to the fridge. “I need you to explain something important to me.”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” I said. “It’s very true what your last ex-girlfriend said: You really can’t dress for shit.”

  “Forget you, man.” He laughed. “I want to know how you continue to do it.”

  “How I continue to do what?”

  “How are you still ‘just friends’ with a girl?”

  “Do you realize that you and I have this same exact conversation every six months?”

  “I know, and I’m not knocking you and Arizona. I know you two are strictly platonic, I’m just wondering about this in general. Like, how do you never consider crossing the line?” He leaned back against the counter. “I’m only asking because since we’ll both be going to law school in the fall, and I think that’s what I need to pick up—a girl who’s just a friend.”

  “They don’t sell friends in stores.”

  “Come on, tell me. How do you do it?”

  A memory from last night, one of Ari whispering my name as she came against my mouth suddenly crossed my mind. “You just go in having that in mind, and you should probably learn how to be a friend to her, too. Don’t make things sexual, like you tend to do.”

  “Right. Well, what if the girl looks like Ari, though? How does someone like me, someone with balls—unlike you, not act upon that?”

  Ari’s face post-orgasm crossed my mind again. “You just don’t. I guess.”

  “Okay, okay, okay.” He tapped the counter. “You. Me. The Bakery Bar. Tonight. Instead of a one-night stand, we’re going to find me a platonic friend. The uglier, the better.”

  “I’m honestly ashamed to call you my friend sometimes.”

  “The feeling is mutual, buddy.” He grabbed a bottle of water and returned to the couch.

  When I was sure he was deeply engrossed in his reading again, I poured myself an early shot of vodka and tossed it back. I was definitely going to need to be buzzed to keep my mind off Ari’s lips for the next few hours.

  Or days.

  Or … Damn.

  I can’t.

  Track 13. The Last Time (4:56)

  Arizona

  The sex was a mistake. Just a one-time mistake.

  I repeated those words all morning, until I halfway believed them, until I made my way into the class I was currently stealing: Pastry Design.

  I took an apron off the rack and found a seat in the back, waiting to see if there would be a no-show today, so I would have a station to use, but to my surprise, there was one with my name on it.

  In utter disbelief, I slowly stepped forward—running my fingers across the lettering to make sure it was real. Then I noticed that there was a note next to my name, so I opened it and read:

  How ironic is it that the best person in the class isn’t really in the class at all?

  This is only for the summer.

  —Chef Brandt

  PS—
I want to talk to you about some other culinary programs that may be good for your future career.

  I looked up and saw him nodding at me from the front of the room, a quick sign of approval.

  Grateful, I took today’s assignment card out of the pocket, hoping it would be something intricate enough that would keep my mind off of Carter.

  Today’s assignment:

  You are to make a soufflé using only the ingredients in your fridge.

  Today’s theme is “Unrelenting Passion: Just One Night.”

  I dropped the card to the ground.

  * * *

  Hours later, after my “professor” made me fill out a few applications for four of the top culinary programs in the world, I found myself walking along the shore barefoot, letting the warm winds knock at me left and right.

  No matter how badly I’d tried to think about something else today, anything else, Carter’s rough touches, kisses, and caresses kept coming to mind. I guessed the dirty sex part about him was true, but a part of me couldn’t help but want to believe that last night was about a little something more than just sex.

  No, stop it. Just sex. Just friends.

  I pulled out my phone and called Nicole.

  “Hey there!” She answered on the first ring. “How are you today?”

  “Good. How are you?”

  “Great! I’m really looking forward to tomorrow night. I’m going to drop off some drinks and snacks at your place on my way to work tomorrow, so we can drink before and after the club. I even got us some DVDs.”

  “You were serious about having a slumber party after we go out?”

  “Totally. I am determined to make Josh’s party up to you.”

  “It’s not that big of a deal, I swear. The thought is appreciated, though.”

  “Stop being so nice about telling me I’m a terrible friend.” There was a smile in her voice. “I’ll be over around eight, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Wait a minute. Why do you sound like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you’re sad or depressed or something. Are you okay?”

  I slept with Carter. Say it. I. Slept. With. Carter.

  I couldn’t get the words to come out. I wanted to tell her, but a part of me—a very strong part, was telling me to hold back.

  “Arizona?” she asked. “Arizona, are you there?”

  “I’m here. Nothing’s wrong. I just had a long day in culinary class.”

  “Bummer. I forgot about that. Have you seen Carter today?”

  “Yeah, earlier. Why?”

  “Well, I know you’re going to think I’m crazy, but do you think you could tell him I’m interested and just see what he says?”

  “Um …”

  “Um yes, or um no?”

  Um hell no. “Sure. I’ll tell him that the next time we talk.”

  “Well, in that case, I guess I’ll have an answer within twenty-four hours!” She laughed. “Oh! Just got a customer. I’ll see you tomorrow at eight!”

  “See you tomorrow at—” The phone beeped before I could finish my sentence.

  I dipped my toes into the ocean a few minutes before deciding to take a trolley straight to Gayle’s. I figured one of their waffles would make me feel ten times better right about now, and maybe even help me think about this situation a little more.

  Especially since Carter won’t be there.

  No, Carter was there.

  As soon as I stepped inside, I spotted him sitting in the back. I debated whether or not I should leave and just wave down one of their mobile trucks, but he suddenly looked up at me.

  I could, literally, feel myself being pulled toward him, as if I wasn’t in control of my own functions. I took one step, I took two, and before I knew it, I was sitting in front of him.

  Neither of us said a word.

  “I put in your order as soon as I saw you walk through the door!” Our regular waitress walked over with a tray.

  “A Belgian waffle with vanilla yogurt and strawberries—with a sprinkle of chocolate chips.” She smiled at me as she set down my usual. “And a waffle tower with chocolate yogurt, peanut butter, and a sprinkle of Oreo chips and gummy bears on the side for you.” She set a plate in front of Carter. “Could you two do me a huge favor and mix it up every now and then? Don’t you get tired of ordering the exact same thing every time?”

  “Could I have an extra waffle today?” Carter smiled. “For free? Will that help?”

  “You’re lucky I actually like you, kid.” She laughed. “I’ll bring it out after I get my next two tables.” She winked at us before walking away.

  “So,” I said, stopping. My first question was always what he did the night before, but I already knew the answer to the question. Me.

  Seemingly picking up on that, he intervened. “Has Nicole sent you her usual, ‘I can’t hang out with you this weekend, but I’ll definitely make it up to you’ text yet?”

  “Not yet. I think she’s going to follow through this time. She said she’s going to buy me lightweight-safe drinks all night tomorrow, and then she wants to hang out at my place afterwards.”

  “You believe her?”

  “I do.” I nodded. “The only thing that shocked me text message-wise today was Chris. He asked if we could meet up again this weekend.”

  “I think he really likes you. Are you going to give him a chance and maybe just have sex, since that’s all it was supposed to be anyway?”

  “No.” I picked up my fork. “I don’t think I’m capable of having casual sex like you are.”

  He raised his eyebrow.

  “I mean, his strange sex sounds aside, all we had was attraction and sweet kisses, but I need more than that to form a connection. Even if it is only for temporary sex. Besides, it’s not worth starting anything anyway, since I’ll be leaving eventually, you know?”

  “Not necessarily. Long distance relationships can work under certain circumstances.”

  “What circumstances?”

  “None.” He laughed. “I was just trying to give you a false sense of hope.”

  I smiled and cut my waffle, and for the next hour, it was as if things were absolutely normal between us. I was actually convinced that us having sex last night wasn’t going to change us at all.

  When it was time for the bill, Carter covered it as usual, and boxed up my leftovers. Unlike usual, he pressed his hand against the small of my back when we stood up, and he left it there until we got to his car—sending my nerves into a frenzy with a simple touch.

  We didn’t talk on the way to my house, and I noticed that he’d neglected to turn on the radio. The only noise between us was the wind and rushing traffic.

  Two stoplights from my block, he finally spoke. “After all these months of stealing classes from the culinary school, they still don’t care that you’ve never paid a dime of tuition?”

  “Shockingly, no. A few weeks ago one of the professors told me they only call security on me when it’s exam day, and the professors really like me. My passion, anyway. Did I tell you that one of them wrote me a recommendation letter for a few other schools?”

  “No.” He laughed as he pulled over to the curb. “Please tell me that you actually read it and made sure he didn’t say that you’re a thief anywhere inside.”

  “He did not!” I laughed with him, opening my door. “He said I was brilliant and possessed some of the most fervent passion he’d seen in years. He did mention my “creative means” to learn, but there’s no way they’ll equate that to me stealing classes.”

  “Let’s hope not.”

  “Thanks for the ride.” I shut the door. “I’ll hit you up tomorrow, if Nicole bails on me.”

  “She will.”

  “She won’t!” I quickly walked away and rushed inside my house.

  I put my hand over my heart and exhaled; it was racing all over again.

  This was so not good.

  Track 14. Speak Now (3:42)

  Ari
zona

  I slept late the next day. All day.

  I even called in sick to my part time job at the marina and let my manager berate me for the umpteenth time. (Something about if I was ever late again or called in sick one more day, I would be fired. I didn’t care about the fired part; it was more about losing my boat access pass that I sometimes needed to use when the chefs held classes on Parker Island; private boat fares weren’t cheap.)

  When I’d finally found the motivation to drag myself up, it was six o’clock and I figured I should start getting ready for a night with Nicole. I went downstairs to see what she’d dropped off earlier and found myself standing in a sea of plastic bags—bags full of all types of junk food: Cheetos, chocolate bars, twenty different types of fruity candy, and lots of vodka and beer.

  It was just like Nicole to literally drop something off without thinking about putting it away. By the time I finished stuffing everything into the pantry, it was seven o’clock and she’d sent me a text:

  “Soooo, don’t kill me for this, but I have to cancel on you tonight! I have a really, really good reason though! It has an eight pack and I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, I promise!”

  WHAT THE HELL?

  Holding back a frustrated scream, I typed a text: “This is the tenth-plus time you’ve stood me up for a fucking guy, Nicole. A non-boyfriend guy at that and I’m beyond tired of it! You have no idea what it means to be a good friend, so the second you decide that you want to be one, let me know.” My finger hovered over the send button, but I didn’t press it.

  She wasn’t worth it anymore.

  I grabbed some of the snacks she’d bought and headed upstairs to my room.

  I flipped through a few cooking channels and settled on a chef that was making a specialty crème brûlée. I changed into a different set of pajamas and got into bed, grabbing my binder to take notes.

  As the chef was testing the custard’s temperature, my phone vibrated. Carter.

  My mind immediately pictured him kissing my lips and holding my body taut against him, so I knew I didn’t need to talk to him right now.