by Cat Lavoie
Ollie rubs his forehead with his palm and frowns. “I say we skip it. I’m sure you weren’t looking forward to reliving our high school days. Didn’t Dave call you Foxy Fuel?”
I nod. “Don’t forget Toxy Drool. I think that was his favorite.”
We laugh. I guess time does heal all wounds. Even traumatic high school ones.
“A toast,” Ollie declares and raises his cup. “To Dave Hurley. You taught us that sticking things up your nose can get you out of second period math and land you in the emergency room. Monty High would not have been the same without you. I’m really sorry your parachute didn’t open, man.”
“Here, here,” I say, gently tapping my cup against his.
We sit in silence for a while. I notice Ollie fidgeting with a packet of sugar.
“I need to talk to you about something,” he finally says. His voice is a bit shaky and it makes me nervous.
“Go ahead.”
“You know that I’m going to stay in London even after the project is over, right?”
I nod.
“Well, I really hate to bring this up, but I’m not going to be able to pay my share of the rent anymore.”
Even though I really shouldn’t be surprised by the news, I feel my heart sink. I lean back against my seat and try to pretend like I wasn’t hoping he’d changed his mind about moving to London for good.
“Obviously, I’m going to be there for you as long as it takes for you to be settled,” he quickly adds. “But, you know...the sooner, the better.”
His face grows dark and I just know Rachel has something to do with this. But I can’t expect Ollie to continue paying for a place that isn’t home anymore. I feel like I’m being broken up with.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say and reach out for his hand. “I understand. I’ll figure something out.”
“Maybe you could get another roommate?” he asks, his eyes lighting up.
I shake my head. “At this point, they’d have to sleep in the oven.”
Ollie nods. “Right. I forgot that Stef and Izz are staying with you.”
“Yes, they are. And driving me crazy. Especially the pregnant one.”
He looks up at me. “Izzie is pregnant?”
It suddenly dawns on me that Ollie doesn’t know. “No, it’s Steffi, actually.”
“Steffi? I didn’t know she was seeing anyone.”
“Neither did we until she came back home. She’s as big as a house.”
I smile at Ollie but he doesn’t smile back. He seems to have trouble keeping his eyes open. “Listen, my sisters are at Mom’s house for the day. The apartment should be quiet. Do you want to go sleep?”
“I don’t want to intrude,” he says, stifling a yawn. “I can go to Mike’s place.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s still your apartment. Come on.” I head for the door.
Ollie nods and gets up, steadying himself on the table.
When we get back to the apartment—pink suitcase in tow—Ollie lays down on the couch.
“I don’t think so. You’ve been stuck on a plane for hours. You deserve a bed.” I take his hand and push him towards his old room, which is now Izzie’s room. I open the door and Ollie and I stare at the piles of paper stacked on the neatly made bed. A few forests must have been slaughtered for this.
“Is Izzie running a Kinko’s out of my old room?” Ollie asks, chuckling to himself.
I take a step and stop dead in my tracks when a pile slips off the bed and spreads all over the floor. If I know my sister, she’s organized these papers into some sort of system and she’ll have a hissy fit if I mess with her perfection. I turn back to face Ollie. “Maybe you should take my room for today. The girls and I can figure something out when they get back.”
After Ollie takes a shower and settles in for the night, I decide to take advantage of the quiet apartment and pamper myself. I take a nice, long bath with extra bubbles before raiding Steffi’s cosmetic bag filled with creams and lotions. I slather them over my face and look at myself in the mirror. With my yellow bathrobe, I look like a giant lemon meringue pie.
Even though it’s nice to have the TV all to myself, I get no satisfaction from flipping through the channels. I decide to call Ethan. Maybe that will soften the guilt I feel for lying to him about what I did today.
Ethan answers after half a ring. “You have impeccable timing,” he says.
“What are you doing?”
“Walking up to your building. I really want to see you and I thought I’d surprise you.”
Surprise. Think quick, Rox. “You want to go out for coffee?”
“No, I wanted to curl up on the couch. Are your sister’s home?”
“No....” But there’s someone else home. I can’t bring myself to say it. He’s going to know I lied to him.
“I’m here. Let me in,” he says, half a second before I hear the buzzer.
I jump off the couch and open the door, my mind racing. I have exactly forty-five seconds to think of something to explain Ollie’s presence in the apartment. Am I the world’s worst fiancée for wishing Ethan would fall while walking up the stairs? Just long enough for me to think of something brilliant.
Hearing his injury-free footsteps coming down the hall, I decide to tell him the truth. Everything will be fine.
Ethan wraps me in his arms when he gets to the door. “You smell delicious. I love this bathrobe,” he says, rubbing his face on my shoulder. “I love it very much but I think it needs to go.” He drags me inside and closes the door with his foot.
“Wait,” I say, but he kisses me and tries to unfasten my bathrobe. Before I know it, we’re standing outside my bedroom.
Ethan opens the door and lets go of me as soon as he sees Ollie sprawled out on my bed. Completely naked. In all the years Ollie and I have lived together, we’ve never accidentally bumped into each other coming out of the shower or walked in on each other in a clothing-optional kind of situation. The last time I saw Ollie naked was when we were four years old and jumping through the sprinkler my dad set up in our yard.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Ethan yells.
Ollie wakes up with a jump and I turn my eyes away as he grabs for the comforter to cover himself. This looks bad. I really wish I was wearing more clothes and I really wish Steffi’s pink grapefruit moisturizer didn’t give me a nice post-coital glow. And I really wish Ollie wasn’t naked in my bed.
I want to run and hide but I force myself to face Ethan. “Ollie flew in for a funeral. I didn’t tell you because... because...” There is no good reason, is there? Anything I say will sound stupid. “Because I just found out this morning.” It sounds more like a question than anything else.
Having wiggled into his boxer shorts under the comforter, Ollie climbs out of bed. “Listen, Ethan. This isn’t what it looks like, man.”
Ethan rolls his eyes. “You know what, man? I’d be more inclined to believe that if it wasn’t for the fact that you had your paws all over my girlfriend a few weeks ago.”
Ollie gives me a puzzled look. “You said you hadn’t told him?”
Ollie is staring at me and Ethan is staring at Ollie. “I didn’t,” I finally manage to say.
Ethan takes his eyes away from Ollie and turns to me. “No, Roxy. You didn’t tell me. Izzie did.”
My blood freezes. The bitch. It takes me a few seconds to realize that Ollie is packing up his things to leave. Ethan follows his every move.
“I’m going to go crash at Mike’s house,” he says, stuffing some clothes into his bag.
Ollie stands in front of me, his shirt half-buttoned and half-tucked into his pants. This used to be his home and now he’s running away. I want to hug him but I don’t want to make Ethan angrier than he is right now.
“I’ll see you,” he says, bending down slightly and barely brushing his cheek to mine. I want to ask him when but I just nod and watch him leave.
Ethan stares out the bedroom window and I know he’s probably waiting
to see Ollie roll his pink suitcase down the sidewalk to make sure he’s getting far away from me. Before I can say something to try and explain, Ethan grabs a hairbrush off the bedside table and hurls it across the room. It misses the mirror by a few inches and lands next to the bed. He looks up at me and shakes his head. “I can’t believe that guy. He’s lucky to be leaving here with all of his teeth.”
Ethan is threatening my best friend. But I can’t say anything—let alone defend Ollie—or he might throw something again.
“I’m sorry,” I say, even though I know it won’t be enough.
He leans against the dresser and stares at me. “You know I’ve never been the jealous type. You know I’ve always respected the fact that Oliver is your childhood friend and you have a special bond or whatever. But what am I supposed to think when I find out the tree-hugging creep not only kissed you, but also flew back here from halfway across the world and landed in your bed? And you didn’t even have the decency to tell me.” He raises his voice and the knot in my stomach gets tighter. “Are you hiding anything else from me, Roxy? Now’s the time. Is there something else I need to know?”
I’ve never seen Ethan this angry. His face is red and he’s clenching and unclenching his fist like he’s itching to hit something. And it’s all my fault. I need to fix this. Now.
I take a few steps forward until I can reach out and grab his hand. Taking a deep breath, I silently pray my tactic will work. “I want to move in with you.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know they are exactly what Ethan needs to hear. Relief floods over me when I see his eyes soften as he struggles not to smile.
“Really? When?” he asks.
“As soon as things are settled with Steffi.” I couldn’t care less about Izzie’s living situation at this point.
“What about your lease?” Ethan asks.
“The building manager is always telling me there’s a long waiting list to get into this building. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”
Ethan looks at me, his eyes narrowed. “What made you change your mind?”
I was hoping he wouldn’t ask me that. Sure, I could tell him that Ollie isn’t going to be paying his half of the rent anymore and I can’t afford to pay it all by myself. But that’s not very romantic, is it? And it certainly isn’t going to help get me out of this mess.
“I think it’s time we took that next step.” Even though the thought of leaving this apartment makes me feel a little sick to my stomach, I can’t help but be overwhelmed by Ethan’s reaction. He’s smiling and happy and seems to have forgotten all about what a horrible person I am. It’s nice to know I can do more than disappoint him and make him throw things out of anger.
“That’s a very mature and rational decision, Roxy,” Ethan says, wrapping me in his arms. “I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson about hiding things from me. Let’s forget about all the unpleasantness, shall we?”
I nod against his shoulder but—even if I shut my eyes and try my hardest to make it disappear—I can’t get Ollie’s face out of my mind. When Ethan starts stripping the sheets off my bed, alternating pangs of guilt and sadness make me feel anything but mature and rational.
It’s close to two in the morning when Izzie and Steffi get home. Ethan is fast asleep and I take my head off his chest and consider bursting into the living room to confront Izzie. But I stop myself. It’s warm and comfy here, lying in the arms of the man I love. Ethan stirs and pulls me closer to him. I put my head back on his chest and listen to my sisters tiptoeing on the other side of the door.
“That’s Ethan’s jacket,” Steffi whispers. “Armani. The man may be boring but he’s got an impeccable fashion sense.”
“Sshhh. Maybe they’re still awake. Do you think Ollie stayed over too?”
Steffi gasps. “What if he’s in there?”
I can feel their eyes glued to my closed bedroom door, probably imagining a threesome that would never happen in a million years.
Izzie and Steffi say goodnight to each other and—my eyelids growing heavier by the second—I forget about my new plan to go smother Izzie in her sleep. It can wait until tomorrow.
Chapter Nine
Even before I open my eyes, I can sense that I’m alone in bed. I open them and see that I’m right. Ethan’s side of the bed is empty and my clothes, thrown across the room in the heat of the moment, are neatly stacked on a chair in the corner of my room.
Memories of what happened last night start creeping to the surface. Ollie. Naked. I close my eyes to block the memory. It doesn’t help. Ethan angry. Ethan happy. Why is Ethan happy? Oh yeah, cause I told him I’d go live with him.
“Shut up, Izzie,” I hear Steffi say from the kitchen. But she’s not upset. She’s laughing.
Izzie. I have to go strangle her now.
I get out of bed and put on a pair of jeans and the Harvard T-shirt Ollie once got me as a joke. Well, he thought it was funny. A college dropout wearing a shirt from an Ivy League school? I just thought it was being cruel to my parents.
My sisters stop talking as soon as I step into the kitchen. They look over my shoulder as if they’re expecting someone to follow me.
“No one’s here,” I say, grabbing a cup. “Ethan left early this morning and Ollie didn’t spend the night. Do you want to know why?”
I’m trying hard to keep my voice calm but I just want to wipe the smug look off my sister’s face.
“Listen,” Izzie says, putting her cup down and coming towards me. “I was just...”
“No, you listen.” I take a deep breath while I get all my insults in order but, suddenly, it doesn’t really matter anymore. It can wait. Something else can’t.
I storm out of the kitchen and head for the door.
“Roxy, where are you going? I want to tell you something,” Steffi yells after me. “Mom and Izzie and me went shopping yesterday. We’re turning your room at the house into the baby’s room.”
For some reason, this makes my blood boil. My room is my room. How dare they take down my New Kids on the Block posters and put up pink elephants or blue butterflies or whatever else they bought together during their Mother-Daughter Bonding Festival?
“Stay out of my room,” I say, slamming the door behind me. I’m not sure but I think I hear Steffi start to cry. What am I doing? I’m not angry at Steffi. I hesitate for a moment and almost go back inside the apartment but I stop myself. There’s no time.
There haven’t been many moments in my life where getting a cab means as much as it does right now. So as they all whiz by me, all yellow and blurry and in a hurry, I feel more and more desperate. I look at my watch. I’ll never make it. I should just give up and go home and tell my sister that her baby can have my old room and be happy about it. Isn’t that what they expect from me?
When I’ve lost all hope and turn around to head back home, I see a cab coming down the street. What are the chances that this one will be empty? I stretch out my arm, expecting it to pass by me like all the others, but it slows down and stops.
“As fast as possible, please,” I tell the driver. “I need to get to JFK.”
We drive in silence for a few minutes and I can’t help but wonder what the hell I’m doing. I almost ask the driver to stop and bring me back to the apartment, but something tells me I need to go. I can’t let Ollie go back to London like this. We need to have a proper goodbye and if I have to go to the airport with messy hair and crusty eyes to get it, so be it. I smile at my own determination.
The driver looks at me through the rear view mirror. “You ain’t got much luggage for someone who’s going on a trip.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I just need to talk to someone who’s at the airport.” I stare at the other cars on the road. They all seem to be going faster than us. Why can’t I be in one of those cars?
“Doesn’t this someone have a cell phone? Everyone has a cell phone nowadays. You know, my twelve-year-old niece has a cell phone.” He looks at me as if the thought that a phone cal
l could save me an expensive cab ride had never crossed my mind.
“He has a cell phone,” I reassure him. “I just prefer talking to him in person.” I fumble through my purse, not really looking for anything. Maybe he’ll get the hint that I don’t feel like talking.
No such luck.
“I get it,” he continues, slowing down and letting another car pass in front of us. My heart sinks. If I get to the airport and Ollie is already at his gate, I’ll have wasted all this money for nothing. “So what are you going to tell him?”
Can’t this guy just talk to me about the weather or the Yankees or, better yet, completely ignore me like a normal driver? “I don’t know.” I can’t hide the irritation in my voice.
“It seems like to me like you’re going out of your way for nothing if you don’t know.”
If Tali were here, she’d have the perfect comeback for that one. Something witty and clever that would shut him up and possibly make him drive faster. But I’m not Tali, so I just sit back and close my eyes and pray for speed.
“What terminal is your friend flying out of?” the driver asks after a few minutes.
My mind goes blank. I have no idea.
The driver turns his head and sees that I’m having a conversation with myself. A very animated conversation in which I’m kicking myself for not thinking things through.
“Where is he going?” he asks with a knowing smile.
I look up. This I know. “London.” Any signs of previous irritation are gone.
“With which airline?”
I know this too. “British Airways.”
He smiles. “Terminal 7. I’ll get you there, you can count on me.”
“Thank you,” I say, feeling bad about not knowing the driver’s name. I look around for an ID badge but it’s on the opposite window and the writing is so small I can’t make it out.
I can tell we’re only a few minutes away. My phone rings and I take it out of my bag to see who it is. Izzie. I hit Ignore and put it back in my purse. A moment later it buzzes with a text message from Steffi: Where are you? I hit delete and shut it down completely.