“Justine, I know you love Renee, and I know you would never intentionally hurt her,” Beth sympathized. “And deep down, Renee knows that too. She was just too hurt to talk to you, and rightfully so. But the good thing about Renee is that she’s a very forgiving person, and eventually, she’s going to come around.”
“I hope so,” I said. “I miss her, Beth. I know I completely screwed up and she might never forgive me, but I have to try.”
“Well, luckily, she met someone,” Beth said. “And to be honest, they’re perfect for each other. She’s definitely over David, I just don’t know if she’s over feeling hurt by you. But I think it’s worth an explanation.”
“So what do you think I should do?”
“Well, are you planning on staying in LA?”
“Hmm… let me see. I have no job, no place to live…”
Beth burst out laughing. “Well there’s your answer. If I were you, I’d get my ass on the first plane out and go get my best friend back.”
Boston, MA
July 2010
I knew which apartment was Beth’s before even looking at the door number. Her patio was lined with sunflowers, hanging beads, mismatched chairs, patchwork quilts, and a giant tie-dye tapestry in the center. Very boho chic. Very Beth.
My stomach was in knots as I ascended the stairs. As luck would have it, just as I was finally settled back in Boston and had my apology speech prepared and ready to go, Beth dropped the bomb that Renee and her new boyfriend, Dylan, had broken up. Or “had a falling- out,” as Beth put it. Essentially the worst time I could ever attempt to make amends, but Beth seemed pretty confident that Renee and Dylan would work things out.
Beth’s encouragement was the only reason I was standing at her front door, heart pounding, ready to face my estranged best friend who I hadn’t seen in over a year. According to Beth, Renee was staying with her temporarily because she and Dylan had lived in the same building. Beth had called me earlier that day to let me know that she was going to her boyfriend’s house after work, so Renee would be alone at the apartment.
Before I could lose my nerve, I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. I’m not sure how much time passed before Renee opened it, it could’ve been ten seconds or ten minutes, but it was the longest waiting period of my life.
And there she was. My beautiful best friend, standing in front of me, with a mixed expression of confusion and shock. She looked different somehow, but I couldn’t pinpoint why. I studied her face, searching for an unspoken answer. Some indication of how the conversation was going to go.
As Renee stared at me in silence, I wondered if coming here was the right decision. After Beth told me about everything that happened with Dylan, I wasn’t sure I could go through with it. But then I thought about how much I had hurt Renee, and how much she was hurting now. I couldn’t give up without trying one last time.
“If you want me to leave, just say so,” I said; the same line I had rehearsed a hundred times on the way over. “Beth told me what was going on and I just… I felt so awful. I really wanted to see you, and see how you were doing. But if my being here is completely inappropriate and you think I should go, I will.”
I waited for her to slam the door in my face, to scream at me, to do… something. But instead she just stared. And stared. And said nothing.
I looked down at the ground, realizing I shouldn’t have come. What was I thinking? That we’d forget the last year and act like nothing had happened? That we’d pick up where we left off? I had made my decision. I had chosen David. I couldn’t take it back now. And I couldn’t expect her to ever forgive me for it.
“It’s okay,” I said, my heart heavy with disappointment. “I completely understand.”
I turned toward the stairs, trying to hold it together. It wasn’t surprising, really. There was just a small part of me that hoped Beth was right, that Renee would forgive me once time had passed. That she’d realize I made a mistake, but our friendship was too valuable to throw away.
Wishful thinking.
I walked to the stairs, hoping she would say something, anything, even if it was that she never wanted to see me again. At least then I’d know. I wouldn’t be left wondering.
I was at the first step when I heard the door open behind me.
“Wait,” she said.
I spun around slowly, part of me afraid of what she was about to say and part of me relieved that there would be no more wondering. No more unanswered questions.
Before I could say anything, she reached out and threw her arms around me.
My heart heaved with relief as I fell into her, trying to find the right words. But before I could say anything, she pulled back to face me, smiled, and invited me in for dinner.
And just like that, my best friend was back.
Chapter 16
Dylan was a creature of habit. For our second baby-shower meeting, he had picked the same meeting spot, same day, same time, same meal, and wore more or less the same outfit. Highland Kitchen. Saturday. Noon. Coffee, pancakes, bacon. Black jacket, black shirt, black hat. The only difference was that this time his jeans were blue.
“Did your mom take care of the catering?” I asked, taking a bite of my chocolate-chip pancakes. After seeing Dylan’s breakfast replica, I figured at least one of us should switch up our routine. Especially since My Kick-Ass Life placed a heavy emphasis on the belief that change was the key to success. It said that, even by changing little things, like going to a different supermarket or taking a new route to work, you were forcing yourself to step out of your comfort zone and face your fear of the unknown, thus inviting new and awesome things into your life.
And hell, if anything was going to jump-start my new-and-improved life, chocolate-chip pancakes were the way to go.
Dylan nodded, pulling a piece of notebook paper from his pocket. He was funny like that. Instead of emailing details or keeping notes stored in his cell phone like most people would, Dylan wrote everything down. Every time I’d been to a show, the back room was always filled with Dylan’s strewn papers – directions to venues, addresses, song lyrics, chords. No wonder he needed Renee to help manage the band. A tech-illiterate leader was never good for business.
“Yeah, the food is all set,” Dylan said, reading through the crumpled piece of paper. “My mom’s ordering from this organic place since Renee’s a bit of a health nut these days. Did you get all the decorations?”
The shower was set to take place next weekend at Dylan’s mom’s house. While most people hated planning showers, I was grateful for the temporary distraction from my uneventful life. And surprisingly, picking our music-themed decorations had turned out to be pretty fun.
“I did,” I said, pulling out a bag of items I’d brought to show him. I passed him a necklace with a backstage pass attached that said “VIP Mom,” a hanging pink-and-blue banner that spelled out “rock and roll” on little records, and a photo of guitar-shaped cookies I had ordered from a local bakery. “Aren’t these cute?”
Dylan inspected each item I’d given him. “These are cute,” he agreed, looking surprised by his sudden interest in shower decorations.
“Wait till you see the invitations,” I said, removing one from my purse. I stood up and slid into the booth next to him, walking him through the entire layout. The shower invitations had the words “Rock the Cradle” scrawled across the top and a giant guitar in the center. At the bottom were Renee and Dylan’s names, followed by the shower date and time and Dylan’s mom’s address.
Dylan scooted a little closer to me, reading the text over my shoulder. The layout was supposed to resemble a concert poster, where Renee and Dylan’s names were the headlining act, and the date, time, and address were the venue details. I was amazed at how much rock-and-roll baby-shower material existed.
“This is great,” Dylan said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you were able to find all this stuff.” His glowing eyes met mine, startling me as usual. “Seriously, thanks so much
for your help with this. Renee is going to love it.”
“I know,” I said. “We have to make sure she’s surprised. I was thinking that maybe you should bring her to your mom’s around 1.30, just in case anyone’s late. I put 1 o’clock on the invites…”
My voice trailed off as my gaze fell upon the entrance to Highland Kitchen. A familiar feeling began to spread throughout my entire body as soon as I realized what was happening. A speedball of pain, regret, reminiscence.
No, I thought, my eyes growing wider. No. No. No.
This is not happening.
Not again.
My heart shifted into overdrive as I watched Renee stroll cautiously through the front door, looking around the restaurant like a lost child. Her sad, scared eyes floated from table to table until they fell on Dylan and me. Squeezed in next to each other in a corner booth. Knees together. Elbows touching. Mirrored guilty expressions.
I could only imagine what it looked like.
She approached the table like she was entering a war zone. The look on her face changed from disbelief to surprise to anger.
“I knew it,” she said softly, shutting her eyes tight. When she opened them, it was like she was seeing us for the first time. She squinted at Dylan, like he had suddenly transformed into a complete stranger. “Band practice without Christian…” Her gaze shifted to me. “Lunch with your mom…” Her eyes fell to the ground. “I knew it.”
My entire body began to shake, as this was exactly what I had been afraid of since the beginning. No matter how much I tried to convince myself that this was for Renee’s benefit, I couldn’t help but experience a resurrection of regret every time I met with Dylan.
Surprisingly, when I looked over at Dylan with fear in my eyes, he was unbelievably calm. Of course he was. He didn’t have anything to feel bad about. I, on the other hand, was a different story. Renee may have forgiven me for what happened with David, but she’d never forget. No one ever forgets.
“Renee, relax,” Dylan said in an even tone. “We were just planning a surprise for you.”
God, he was so cool, so composed. For a second, I was able to convince myself that maybe I’d overreacted. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe we could just explain everything to her and she’d understand and everything would be fine…
“Oh, I’m surprised all right,” she snapped, her voice starting to rise. “Let me see, I catch both of you lying to me, so I decide to follow Dylan to see for myself if I’m crazy, and what do you know? I find the two of you snuggled up together in the corner.”
“Renee, sit down and hear us out for a second.” Dylan motioned to the seat across from us.
“No, I’d like you to explain something first.” She was seething, spitting out her words between clenched teeth. “If you two are so busy planning something for me, then why the fuck is she practically sitting on your fucking lap? Is that part of the surprise too? To sneak around and get cozy with my best friend when I’m not looking?” She shot me a look of disgust. “God knows, it wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Jesus Christ,” Dylan mumbled, hanging his head in frustration. “Knock it off. You’re starting to cause a scene.”
“Seriously, it’s not like that at all,” I said. “We were just planning…”
“It’s not like what, Justine?” she yelled. She wasn’t even attempting to keep her cool anymore. “Like you fucking my boyfriend? Because we all know you’d never do that…”
“Enough!” Dylan yelled, slamming his hand down on the table.
“How could you do this?” Renee was screaming now, her arms flailing in the air. “What, once wasn’t enough? You have to take him, too?”
I felt my cheeks flush crimson. Everyone in the restaurant was starting to stare. I couldn’t believe that all this time, I’d thought things were back to normal with us. I was so grateful for my second chance, when in reality, I hadn’t been given a second chance at all. All I’d been given was a grace period before I inevitably screwed up again.
I stood up and walked over to her, standing so close that our faces were almost touching. In a low voice, I said, “I have apologized to you a million times about David. You said that you understood, and that you forgave me, and that you trusted me. Clearly, I’m not the only one who’s being dishonest here.” I felt my jaw harden. “You may never be able to trust me, but when I told you that I’d never do that to you again, I meant it.”
I leaned over, grabbed the bag of shower decorations from the table, and shoved them into her arms. “You know, I didn’t expect you to forgive and forget. But I expected you to at least try.”
I glanced back at Dylan before heading to the door. “Tell your mom I’m sorry about the shower.”
I waited until I was safe inside my car before allowing myself to cry. This was due to several reasons, mainly because a) I didn’t want to cause more of a scene than I already had at Highland Kitchen, and b) Renee was only part of the reason I was crying.
Sure, her words hurt like hell, but I also knew that she was pregnant and hormonal, and catching your best friend sneaking around with your boyfriend for the second time is bound to make a person say some crazy shit. But it was more than that.
The truth was, as hard as I’d tried to fight it, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t belong here. Ever since I had moved back home, it was like I was trying to turn my life into something it once was, and failing miserably.
As much as I hated to admit it, the only time I could remember being truly happy was when I was in LA. I had a kick-ass job, a great apartment, and friends I didn’t appreciate until it was too late.
Now, I had no job, no apartment, and a best friend who hated me.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized how important change really was. Instead of moving back to Boston and clinging to what was comfortable, I could have stayed in LA, held on to my great position, and made a wholehearted attempt to start over on my own. I could have tried to meet new people and grow my friendships, especially with Jasmine. She had been nothing but sweet and caring ever since I’d met her, yet I had never made any sort of an effort because, in my mind, I had Renee, and she was all I needed.
And look where that got me.
I wiped the tears from my eyes, took a deep breath, and picked up my cell phone. It rang three times before she answered.
“Hey, Jas,” I said into the receiver. “So… tell me about this event-management job.”
Chapter 17
It was as if LA had been expecting me. Literally. I couldn’t have asked for a more inviting reunion. The second the plane touched down at LAX, the sunshine practically enveloped me in a welcoming hug.
Most non-Cal natives had a tendency to subscribe to the false notion that Southern California was similar to Southern Florida, where the weather was, for the most part, really hot. It wasn’t. With the exception of summer, the temperature was generally in the sixties and seventies year-round, which was something that a Boston native could never complain about, especially when said native was flying there in the bone-chilling month of January.
However, every once in a while, LA had a fluke winter week where it was all sunshine, all eighty degrees, all day.
And don’t you know, this just happened to be one of those weeks.
I could practically taste the happiness from my former existence as soon as I stepped into the crisp desert air. Palm trees. Hot breeze. Sun on my skin. Life. All around me. There was no life in Cape Cod in the winter. No people, no streetlights. Zilch. In LA, you were surrounded by life. People, energy, noise. Everywhere.
Even though it had only been six months, it felt like I had lived here in another life.
Jasmine’s silver Mercedes was already parked curbside, waiting for me. She bolted from the car as soon as she saw me, barreling toward me in her fitted beige suit, her bright, white teeth gleaming. She wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug, then held me out at arm’s length, staring me down like a mother who’d just bee
n reunited with her child.
“How are you?” The enthusiasm in her voice indicated the question was less a formality and more a genuine concern for my wellbeing. “You look great.”
“I look like hell.” I glanced down at my yoga pants, sweatshirt, disheveled side ponytail.
“You look great.” Her firm tone implied there would be no arguing. She reached down and emptied my suitcase into her trunk before I could object. “Now, let’s go to my place and get you cleaned up. Because you, little lady, have an interview this afternoon.” She shot me a knowing look. “And you know how much Michelle hates it when people are late.”
God, it felt good to be home. Wherever that was anymore.
Michelle Lawrence had the body of a peanut and the presence of a tornado. She stood just above five feet tall, with a tiny, petite frame, black hair that fell a few inches past her shoulders, and a smile that could fool anyone into thinking she was just as sweet as she looked.
Until you got to know her.
At age 35, Michelle was the youngest Vice President at Sphinx. And from what I’d heard, she’d earned her title. The rumor was that during a trip to Sphinx’s Tokyo office, Michelle was so disgusted with a new game trailer that the Tokyo management team had created that she reduced one of the executives to tears. Apparently, she tore him apart so badly that he had to leave the meeting and come back once he’d composed himself. The executive then wrote an email to the CEO singing Michelle praises, saying he’d never seen someone so passionate about gaming throughout his entire career.
Thus, Michelle Lawrence, the legend, was born.
Don’t get me wrong, on a day-to-day basis, Michelle was generally all smiles and polite exchanges. She just wasn’t someone I’d ever want to piss off.
Stepping into Sphinx’s lobby was like a time warp. As I glanced around the room, my memory was instantly flooded with images of David sprawled out on the leather couch in his baseball cap waiting anxiously for me. The way my heart jumped at the sight of him. The electrical charge I felt being in his presence.
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