Maysie was trying not to be obvious as she watched me but subtlety wasn’t her strong suit.
“Do I have bar-b-que sauce on my face?” I asked her pointedly, wiping at my lips.
Maysie flushed and looked ashamed. “Oh, no, not at all. They’re good right?” she fumbled, picking up a breadstick and shoving into her mouth.
“It’s cool, Mays. I get it,” I said, trying not sound irritated. All of my friends watched me. I felt their eyes. Their concern.
Is Gracie eating enough? Is she going to sneak into the bathroom and drink a fifth of Vodka? She’s looking so skinny, is she starving herself?
Everyone had those questions and I understood why. I wasn’t angry, just resigned that in the back of their minds those thoughts would always linger.
Mitch never looked at me that way. He never made me feel like I was under a microscope. He always made me feel…normal.
Ugh!
Why was I thinking of him so much lately? I had been good about blocking him out.
Lately I was starting to question things. Wondering whether I should do as Viv suggested, and finally talk to him. But so much time had passed. Too much time perhaps. I should have dealt with it a year ago but I had been barely able to pull myself together. I hadn’t been able to handle the implications of that one heart-wrenching night.
But I had done a lot of growing up in the last three hundred and sixty-five days. At some point I had stopped being the girl who forever swept things under the rug. I was trying to get a grip on my life and the thought had taken root that making things right with Mitch was an important step. And it seemed once I let Mr. Abrams back into my head, it was going to take an act of god to get him out again.
“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t get home until late and then I had to deal with the Viv situation.” I picked up another breadstick and ate this one a little slower.
Maysie cringed. “That’s why I left. I recognized that tone in her voice. I figured I’d better get out of there fast.”
“Well it was happening in our living room. There are some things I can’t tolerate. Communal masturbation is definitely one of them.” We both made a face.
“Does she still do that? Hasn’t she learned to keep that stuff behind closed doors?” Maysie groaned.
I licked Parmesan cheese off my fingers and took a drink of water. “Nope. I’m not holding my breath that she ever will.”
“Well, you think that’s bad, imagine having to hear them go at it from behind a tiny curtain on a tour bus. You think your apartment is close quarters, you have no idea.”
I shuddered. “We need to lock them up in a room. Away from people. We’ll call it a public service.”
We laughed because it was true.
“Maysie! I didn’t know you were in town!” a shrill voice interrupted. Our waitress, a thin girl with straight black hair was grinning from ear to ear. “How are you? I haven’t seen you in months!” Jaz Digby squealed, pulling Maysie to her feet and giving her a hug.
“Hey, Jaz. Yeah, I’m just here for the week. How have you been?” Maysie asked after sitting back down.
Jaz flicked her dark hair and put a hand on her hip. “Can’t complain. Even if I’m still working in this place.”
“Moore’s not a bad boss. It could always be worse, “ Maysie said, waving at the long time manager of Barton’s who was restocking the liquor behind the bar.
Jaz lifted her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah, well I’m getting married next year and we’re planning to move to the city. No more waitressing for this gal.”
Jaz held out her hand for Maysie and I to inspect her diamond-clad finger.
“Wow, impressive,” I told her.
Jaz beamed.
“I didn’t know you were dating anyone,” Maysie said.
Jaz blushed. “I’m marrying Eli.”
Maysie’s eyes widened and I frowned. Eli? How did I know that name?
Then it hit me.
“Eli Bray?” I asked. Jaz nodded, biting on her lower lip. She glanced at Maysie nervously.
“Isn’t that the guy—” I began to say but Maysie cut me off.
“That I dated before Jordan. Yeah.”
“We’ve only been together for a few months but when you know, you know, right?” Jaz gave Maysie a worried look. “Should I have asked you first? I mean, I know you guys were together and I don’t want it to be weird.”
I remember Eli being pretty hot in that whole slacker, pothead townie kind of way. He and Maysie had never made much sense so it wasn’t surprising when it didn’t really go anywhere.
Maysie put her hand on Jaz’s arm. “Jaz, don’t be ridiculous. That was years ago and we were never serious. Eli’s a great guy. I’m happy for you. Congratulations,” she said sincerely.
Jaz beamed and you could tell she was happy.
“Yeah, congrats,” I added.
“Thanks!” Jaz tucked her pen and pad into her apron. “I’ll send you an invitation. It’s just going to be a small ceremony but we’d love you to be there. And Jordan too of course,” she went on.
“Absolutely. I’d love to come,” Maysie told her.
“Awesome. Okay, well, I guess I should take your orders, huh? The usual? Tequila Chicken?”
“How did you guess?” Maysie chuckled.
Jaz and I both rolled our eyes. “Only because it’s the only thing you ever eat here,” I piped up.
“What about you, Gracie?” Jaz asked.
I didn’t bother looking at the menu. I knew it like the back of my hand. “Uh, how about a Cobb Salad.”
“Okay, sounds good. I’ll refill your drinks and get you some more breadsticks.” Jaz took our glasses.
Once she had left I turned wide eyes to my friend. “Jaz Digby is marrying your ex-boyfriend? What crazy sort of Twilight Zone did we just wander into?”
Maysie leaned in. “Oh my god, I know! I was not expecting that one. I hope Jordan doesn’t pop a blood vessel when I tell him we’re going to the wedding.”
I giggled. “Didn’t Jordan knock him out or something? I seem to remember you telling me about an altercation between the two.”
Maysie waved her hand in dismissal. “That was back when Jordan thought peeing a circle around me was a good way to keep guys away. Eli was never a threat. Jordan figured that out pretty quickly.”
“God, it’s hard to believe all of that was almost four years ago. Four years since you went toe to toe with Olivia and Milla over your fiancé.”
Maysie grimaced. “Milla Wood. Yuck. I had tried really hard to forget about her.”
“I heard she got married to some guy from her hometown in Maryland, and has popped out two kids already. I also heard she’s gotten pretty fat too,” I said, grinning.
Milla Wood was our former sorority sister and all around assface. She had gotten Maysie black balled from our sorority over Jordan and had gone around spreading some vicious rumors about her as well. In the end, it turned out Milla was just pissed because Jordan had turned her down. She ended up transferring out of Rinard College, never to be seen again.
“Where did you hear all this?” Maysie asked, looking pretty pleased with the juicy gossip.
I smiled coyly. “I have my sources. I like to keep tabs and make sure karma does its job.”
“I shouldn’t care one way or another about the bitch but damn, that’s good to hear,” Maysie chuckled.
I inclined my head in Jaz’s direction. “But seriously, it doesn’t bother you to hear your ex is marrying someone else? Not in the slightest? I mean, I would be a little weirded out to hear a guy I used to bang was getting hitched.” I said, waggling my eyebrows.
Maysie snorted. “More power to ’em. I’m glad to hear they’re together. Eli’s a good guy. And Jaz…well she’s…”
“Enthusiastic?” I chirped.
We both started laughing again.
“I swear, I feel like I’m the last singleton from our graduating class,” I complained, thanking Jaz when she br
ought back our drinks.
“Oh no you’re not, Gracie. I know for a fact that Jasper Evans is still single,” Jaz chimed in.
“Who the hell is Jasper Evans?” I asked, trying to place the name with a face.
“The guy that used to sunbathe on the quad in his speedo?” Maysie asked, her lips twitching in amusement.
“Yeah, that’s him,” Jaz exclaimed.
I covered my face with my hands and groaned. “Great, so me and Speedo Guy are both single. Maybe I should give him a call,” I remarked sarcastically.
Jaz looked thoughtful. “I’m pretty sure he’s gay,” she pointed out.
I lifted my hands into the air. “Well there you go, I couldn’t even get Speedo Guy.”
Jaz patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Gracie. You’re a total hottie. You’ll get snatched up in no time. You’re pretty enough that not everyone will care about the fact that you used to be a total train wreck.”
Maysie and I looked at each other and I could tell my dear friend was trying not to laugh.
“Thanks, Jaz. You really made me feel better,” I deadpanned.
She continued patting my shoulder. “I’m glad. Because I mean it. Crazy is easily overlooked when you have a nice face.”
“Yeah, G, she’s right,” Maysie mused, biting her bottom lip.
“Okay ladies, I’ve got to get back to it. Your food should be out soon,” Jaz said with a final condescending shoulder pat.
“Wow. Do you think she hears herself when she speaks?” I asked after Jaz left.
“I doubt it. Let’s hope Eli has a good pair of earplugs. Maybe that could be my wedding gift to him,” Maysie snickered.
I shook my head. “It’s sad when Jaz-Motormouth-Digby can land someone and I’ve been sans a date in over six months.”
Maysie sobered instantly. “I didn’t think you were really looking for anything.”
I shrugged. “I’m not. But an option would be nice to have.”
Maysie raised her eyebrows questioningly. “Where is all this coming from? Does this have to do with you coming with us next weekend to the Rejects show? Because if it’s strange with all of us being with someone—”
I held up my hand, silencing her. “It’s not about anything, Mays. I’m just having a moment of feelsorryformyselfitis. It’ll pass. Listening to Vivian’s masturbatory moaning earlier has given me a case of the grumps is all.”
“There’s someone out there for you, G. Someone perfect,” Maysie said softly.
I laughed. I made myself. It was either that or cry.
Because I was pretty sure I had already found him.
Enough!
I had to stop thinking like that.
“I don’t need a man, Mays. I’m content with my own company. Plus I have you, Viv, and Riley to stop me from turning into a crazy cat lady.”
“I promise that if I see you adopting any cats, I’ll stage an intervention,” Maysie swore.
We ate our meal.
We laughed.
We talked.
It felt really, really good.
I had friends. I had a decent job.
I had a life.
I was sober. I was getting better.
That’s all that mattered.
Just as we were paying the bill, my phone dinged and I pulled it out, forgetting by that point, about my momentary weakness only a few hours before.
When I saw his name, I almost dropped my phone.
“Who is it?” Maysie asked, seeing my face.
I schooled my features into total neutrality. I didn’t care. I didn’t care.
“Just my mom. She’s being her normal, suffocating self,” I lied.
I had just lied.
Why?
“Ugh, sorry, babe. Ignore her until tomorrow.”
I swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yeah, it’s probably for the best. I don’t want to open a can of worms tonight.”
Maysie looped her arm through mine as we left Barton’s and headed out to the parking lot.
“Should we brave the apartment or perhaps should we give them a few more hours?” Maysie asked, digging her keys out of her purse.
I still had a death grip on my phone, unwilling to put it away.
“Uh. I think they might need a while,” I said distractedly.
I don’t care.
I don’t care.
“Should we go see a movie then?” Maysie’s voice seemed to be coming through a fog.
I nodded absently. “Yeah. I’ll meet you at the Cineplex.”
Maysie regarded me levelly. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.
I gave her a shaky smile. “Of course. Just annoyed that Mom had to ruin my good mood. But it’s nothing a good chick flick can’t fix.”
Maysie gave me a quick hug. “Put it behind you, G,” she murmured.
“Yeah. I will,” I agreed.
Maysie walked to her car and I headed to mine.
I glanced down at the text again.
Do I need to ride to your rescue?
“Yes,” I whispered into the air, not daring to type out the reply.
Mitch had responded.
What did that mean?
His words felt so…normal.
And for the briefest of seconds we were just Mitch and Gracie again.
My chest felt uncomfortably tight and my eyes started to burn.
Do I need to ride to your rescue?
He had rescued me so many times before.
Mitch had always been my white knight.
But I had learned in the last few years that I couldn’t spend my life relying on someone else. That at some point I had to learn to rescue myself. And I was.
When I lost Mitch I had also gained a strength I hadn’t known I possessed. Because I had to be strong if I was going to survive losing the best thing in my life.
And I couldn’t walk down that road again. We had crossed a line we couldn’t come back from. Not ever. No matter how much I wanted to.
Because now there was Sophie.
So I deleted the text.
It was for the best.
All the while my heart tattooed a word against my chest.
Liar.
I could really use some Chunky Monkey right about now.
Her text surprised the fuck out of me.
It’s like she had ESP or something.
I had only just been thinking about her. Not like it was that unusual, but it was worse than normal. Because I tried my damndest not to think about Gracie Cook at all.
There was no sense in focusing on a part of my life that had been way too painful and way too embarrassing.
There was nothing like handing your heart over to someone only to have them throw it on the ground and do a tap dance number on it.
Sure, I still wondered how she was doing. If she was healthy and happy. I wasn’t an asshole. I was a nice guy. Everyone knew that. That was my role in Generation Rejects.
Jordan was the tortured artist, Garrett was the laid back fun guy, and Cole was the asshole sex machine. And me, well I was the nice guy. The one that would comfort the girls after Cole kicked them out of his bed.
I was the friend.
A word that had never sounded so ugly until Gracie had thrown it in my face.
“You’re my friend, Mitch. I just don’t feel that way about you.”
So yeah, I made a point to block she who shall not be named from my mind.
Considering how much I had always loved her, I was bound to fail.
Plus there was Sophie now.
My girlfriend.
A woman who was the complete opposite of Gracie in every single way. She wasn’t complicated or emotional. Sophie didn’t fall apart and need me to rescue her. Sophie was calm and collected. She didn’t get worked up about anything.
Gracie was intense. Sophie was…placid. Which is what I needed after surviving Hurricane Gracie Cook.
And I cared about Sophie.
I really did.
/> Maybe I didn’t love her. Not yet anyway. But I’m sure I could in time.
It’s already been a year. How much time did I need?
Sometimes my inner voice needed a throat punch.
Because what wasn’t there to love about Sophie?
She was cute and sweet and patient. She had always been the kind of girl you could take home to your parents and not worry that she was going to drink all of the booze in your mom’s liquor cabinet. Sophie wasn’t a partier and I appreciated that about her.
There was no desperation with Sophie.
When I kissed her, it didn’t feel like I was falling off a cliff and had to brace for the impact. I never felt as though if I didn’t have her, I’d die. Nope. That kind of crazy wasn’t good for anyone.
Sophie wasn’t like Gracie and I had convinced myself that was a good thing.
My feelings for Gracie had never been rational. I would have walked barefooted over broken glass if she had asked me to. She wanted me to donate a kidney? Sure. No problem. Anything for Gracie-run-over-my-heart-Cook.
And that wasn’t healthy.
No, with Sophie things were quiet and easy. Like drinking a glass of warm milk.
Shit. Had I just compared my girlfriend to a glass of warm milk?
What I meant was she was comforting and low key. Like a blanket or—
Never mind.
I had known Sophie since we were teenagers.
Sophie made sense.
Gracie…
Well, she was a non-issue.
So why did just the mention of her knock the breath from my lungs and make me feel like dry heaving?
Because I was fucking pussy.
“I spoke to G the other day, she’s coming up with Viv and Maysie for the show on Saturday,” Garrett remarked off-handedly just as we were finishing sound check for this evening’s show.
We were currently touring with Tidal Wave, a lesser known band that was just starting out. It was a far cry from how things were just eight months before. Then we had been at the height of an almost sold out tour with indie rock darlings Cuban Cadillac. Our album was selling and things were going really well.
Then they weren’t anymore.
I didn’t know what had happened. None of us did. All we did know was that after the huge success of our debut album, the sales for our follow up were lukewarm at best.
Just when we thought we had made it, we realized pretty damn quickly that we were just another flash in the proverbial pan. Soon after our second album disappeared from the charts, Cuban Cadillac told us that we were being replaced with Total Distance, a clichéd pop rock group that had just hit big with a single called Highway Heartache.
Desperate Chances Page 5