by Amanda Cowen
“Well what are you going to do? Keep on dating Felicity or whatever her name is after all of this?” Michelle asks leaning back in her chair.
Matthew let’s out an earthshattering moan and drops his head in his hands. Despite the drama coming from their end of the table, Ben smiles at me while taking a sip from his drink. I wearily smile back, feeling a bit bleak that the tropical heat is clouding our recent romance. I can’t help but wonder if Ben and I could end up like them. Their reality is my worst nightmare, and it is the exact reason all this tends to scare me in the first place. I can’t fathom losing Ben, ever.
It wasn’t long ago when Ben and I engaged in a lengthy discussion over the dramatic relationship saga of Matthew and Michelle. After Ben found himself dragged into one of their more explosive fights, he rushed over to my place, flopped down on my sofa, and asked me to grab him a beer. Then he patted the seat beside him so he could reveal what he had witnessed.
According to Ben, Matthew let it slip that he was seeing another woman (coincidently his present girlfriend Felicity). Michelle’s vein popped out of her forehead and her immediate reaction was to reach into the freezer and whip a frozen bag of peas at him. She screamed and shoved him up against the wall, but before she stormed out of his apartment she slapped him across the face and claimed they were officially over. Once she left, Matthew broke down and confessed to Ben that he loved Michelle, but he couldn’t see a future with her because of how volatile they were together.
Ben and I became so wound up in their web of drama; we couldn’t contain ourselves from judging their problems. We gossiped about how everything changed for them once they added sex into the mix. We poked fun at how stupid they were for thinking it could actually work. But suddenly, I am not feeling the same way I did back then, when I was so quick to judge their circumstance. How would Ben and I ever muddle through a break-up? Would I experience such great demons of hurt that I would find myself whipping a frozen bag of peas at him too?
Hopefully, I never have to find out.
Chapter 14
The next morning, I crawl out of bed with a smile plastered on my face. I prance into the bathroom, take a quick shower, rub some anti-wrinkle cream on my skin, and hastily apply mascara. I begin to brush my teeth, and flick on the iPod doc to select my Taylor Swift playlist. I sway back and forth to “Fearless”, alone in front of the mirror with toothpaste foaming at the sides of my mouth.
When the song ends, I simultaneously spit and rinse admiring myself in the mirror. Not in a vein way, like I am obsessing over how beautiful I am, because it’s no secret that I am no super model, but in the way that I can’t believe my luck. How is it possible I can actually have the best of both worlds? How can I possibly have great sex with my best friend and still have him as my best friend? I know at first, I was completely skeptical, but I can’t help but ask myself why hadn’t we flipped a coin on sex before?
My good mood puts me into a full on OCD cleaning mode. As “You Belong with Me” blares off the iPod, I start to organize our makeup, wipe down countertops, and pile used towels under the sink for the cleaning staff. I even organize our shampoos, conditioners, and body washes by lining them up in three little sections of what belongs to whom, as the lyrics dance around in my head:
She wears high heels, I wear sneakers
She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers
Dreaming bout the day when you wake up and find
That what you’ve been looking for has been hear the whole time
If you could see that I’m the one who understands you
Been here all along so why can’t you see?
You belong with me…
I smile to myself and think how those lyrics, in a strange kind-of way reminds me how I feel about Ben - until the bathroom door flings open and I nearly jump out of my skin. Michelle storms in and shuts off the iPod looking quite haggard. Her hair stands up on end, knotted and scrunched. She has big bags under her eyes and is horribly pale.
“Megan, it is six in the morning!” she shouts, “What on earth are you doing?” She looks around the sparkling clean bathroom, and drops her head in her hands.
“What?” I laugh, “Am I bothering your beauty sleep?”
“You are obnoxious” she snorts and starts to walk out of the bathroom, “I actually thank God every day that you moved out of the apartment so I don’t have to live with you and your morning glory.”
“Wait!” I shout and watch Michelle whip around, “I am going down to Jessica’s room to wake her up. Make sure you are both up and ready to meet us at the Spa for nine.”
Michelle nods and disappears back under the covers. I on the other hand, apply a sheer layer of gloss to my lips and skip my way to Jessica and Michael’s villa.
To my surprise when I get there, the door is slightly open and I can hear voices arguing. I slowly push myself inside and the hinges loudly creak. Jessica is throwing pillows and blankets all over the room, yelling at Michael to help her look for something. Michael is running his fingers through his hair and saying he told her to be more careful. I debate on closing the door, sneaking out and leaving this little argument, but as I take one step back, Jessica spins around in my direction.
“Oh Megan! Thank God you’re here!” she exasperates, “I lost my engagement ring!”
Michael kicks over a garbage can and mumbles how this is so typical of Jessica. Which I have to agree it is, and probably why I am not at all shocked by this ring’s mysterious disappearance. Michael I have actually shared a private conversation about Jessica’s constant drama. We both think she does things on purpose to create immediate attention and tragedy in her life. Sometimes I wonder if she should’ve pursued a career as an actress in Hollywood.
She yanks me into their villa, “This is a travesty! I have no idea how I lost it! I know I had it on last night. I really don’t understand how I could have possibly misplaced it.”
I watch Michael on the opposite side of the room, and his face is completely red as he rifles though his luggage, “Shut-up Jessica. Keep on looking and stop talking. If you actually lost this ring, my mother is going to flip out!”
She lets out a growl, “You know what Michael! This isn’t my fault. Stop being such a jerk!”
Michael turns his back to her and she flips him off when he isn’t looking. Somehow I become dragged into this quest, searching on my hands and knees under their bed.
To say this ring is spectacular is an understatement. It’s been in Michael’s hoity-toity family for five generations. It’s a stunning two-carat, radiant cut light orangey pink diamond with two honking flawless diamonds on either side. She has been able to wear it safely every day for the past year, but how she ends up losing it the day before her wedding is beyond me.
Just as I am wedging my arm underneath the dresser, Jessica shrieks, “I found it!”
Michael bites his tongue, rolls his eyes and storms past the both of us. He escapes into the bathroom and slams the door shut.
“What’s his problem?” Jessica says and slips the ring back onto her finger, “Thank goodness I thought to check behind the nightstand. It must have slipped.”
“Must have.” I mumble and yank my arm free. Jessica beams down at her ring finger and becomes lost in its glimmer. The clock behind her catches my eye and flashes that it’s already eight-thirty, “We better head down to the Spa. We don’t want to be late.”
She starts squealing and jumping up and down, “I’m so excited! I can’t believe tomorrow is almost here.”
Surprisingly, Stephanie and Michelle are already waiting for us by the front doors of the Spa. Jessica immediately shares her ring disappearance story and exasperates how she thought she had lost it forever. Stephanie and Michelle absorb every little detail of Jessica’s tale, and tell her how lucky she was to find it, while I can’t help but think she knew where it was all along.
When I push open the doors of the Spa, a lady no more than five feet tall with frizzy black ha
ir greets us with a warm grin. “Welcome to the Spa, who is the bride?”
“That’s me!” Jessica exclaims shooting her left hand in the air and showing off her sparkling diamond.
“Wonderful.” The little lady exclaims, “My name is Nadia, and I will be taking care of you this morning.” She spins around and pulls a shiny metal tray off of the counter with four champagne flutes. They are filled with a bubbly pink liquid and a few raspberries are splashed inside each one. Jessica politely takes the first one, and hands one out to the rest of us.
The Spa is fantastic, and nothing short of a small paradise. Nadia leads us through glass paned double doors out to the hydrotherapy Jacuzzi pool. The deck looks like marble, and there is a gigantic mural on one of the outdoor walls made of colored glass to resemble the sea. There are four perfectly aligned brown cushioned lounge chairs with three dividing umbrellas of perfect symmetry. Plush white towels and a view into the greenest foliage I have ever seen surround the perimeters. It is absolutely breathtaking.
“Do we get to go in the pool?” Jessica asks.
“We are getting almost every treatment you can at this Spa.” Stephanie says with a smile.
“You guys are the best friends ever!” Jessica says and claps her hands together.
Nadia opens another door and leads us inside to another section of the Spa, and it is just as beautiful as the outside. Rich warm colors, lavish and plush furniture, not to mention clean and tidy. Nadia invites us to remove our sandals then head over to the wall of nail polish to select our color of choice. Right away, Jessica makes a stink that we all have to have the same color nails, and of course, it must be a color of her approval. So as a joke, Michelle picks a metallic royal blue.
Jessica rips it out of her hands, “Do you guys think this is a joke? Because it so isn’t. This is a big deal.”
We chuckle and watch Jessica meticulously debate over two light pink shades that look exactly the same. Finally she makes a decision, handing each of us a bottle called “Princesses Rule”.
Nadia directs us into a new room with four manicure/pedicure chairs formed in a circle. Four young girls who work at the Spa appear behind her from a long brown curtain. I hand my nail polish to tall dark girl named Adriana, at least that’s what her nametag says. She smiles and asks me if I want my hands or feet done first. I opt for the manicure, saving the pedicure for last, because it’s definitely the better of the two.
Once we are getting pampered, we start chatting about the wedding tomorrow. Jessica says she can’t believe how long she has been with Michael, and that she is so happy they are finally getting married.
“How did you guys even meet?” Stephanie asks, “It was so long ago I can’t remember.”
“We went to high school together.” Michelle snorts, “That’s how.”
“Yeah I know that.” Stephanie snaps, “But how did it happen?”
“Oh, I have Megan to thank for that.” Jessica chuckles.
“Me?” I say with surprise. I didn’t know I had anything to do with this match made in heaven.
“Yes you.” Jessica says, “You were such a keener back then and took all the advanced science courses because you wanted to be a marine biologist.”
I laugh, “Yeah, so. What does that have to do with Michael?”
“Well, do you remember how I would meet you every day when your biology class was done?”
“Yeah, we would walk together to our horrible English class with Mr. Henderson the creep.”
We all share a laugh, because Mr. Henderson was so slimy and made really inappropriate comments to all the girls. Stephanie even adds that she heard he slept with a student a few years after we graduated.
“Anyway,” Jessica interjects, “Michael was in that biology class. Remember?”
I think back to those early days of grade nine, and try to envision the dirty old lab based classroom. Somewhere in my memories, I vaguely remember Michael sitting at the back, “Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, one day you went home sick and didn’t tell me. So I showed up to your class and waited for you, but you weren’t there.” Jessica smiles.
“Wow, how do you remember all of this?” I interrupt, but Jessica shushes me.
“Michael was the last one out of the doors and he said, ‘Are you looking for your friend?’ I said ‘yes’, and he said you weren’t in class today.” She points to me and continues, “Then he paused and asked me what my name was, and I told him Jessica Ellis. I pretended like I hadn’t noticed him before, but how could I not have noticed him?”
We all nod in agreement. Michael was and still is quite the stunner. Wavy honey brown hair and piercing blue eyes like his don’t go unnoticed.
“So, he asked me if he could walk me to class. I didn’t even tell him where I was headed, but he already knew, which meant he had followed us before.” Jessica gets all giddy and says, “Then later that day, I saw him in the cafeteria, and he asked me if I wanted to go on a date with him on the weekend. I of course said yes, and ta-da it’s been love ever since.”
“So basically, if Megan hadn’t been puking her brains out at home on the toilet, you and Michael wouldn’t have met?” Michelle chuckles.
“I am sure we would have met eventually.” Jessica smiles.
“Well, you’re welcome.” I laugh.
“Why can’t I meet someone great?” Stephanie pouts.
“You’ve dated a lot of great guys.” Jessica says “What about your last boyfriend? Davis right? What was his last name?”
“His name was Andrew and his last name was Davis.” Stephanie moans, “He was a jerk with a crummy bartending job, living in a shitty apartment.”
“I guess so.” Jessica agrees.
“It isn’t fair. Michelle has a boyfriend and Matthew on the side. You have Michael, and now Megan has Steven. But I have no one.” Stephanie cries.
“Okay, I do not have Matthew on the side.” Michelle says with disgust.
Stephanie rolls her eyes and mumbles “Yeah, okay.”
“What about Eric?” Jessica suggests before Michelle can continue to protest.
“Ewe no!” Stephanie shouts flailing her arms.
“What’s wrong with Eric?” Jessica says, “He’s cute.”
“Yeah, but have you seen him drunk? Come on Jessica. He has the worst Peter Pan syndrome ever. He should really see a therapist.” Stephanie says.
We all nod in agreement and Michelle pipes up, “What about that guy who works with you at the bank? Phil something?”
“Ohmigod, I already slept with him one night after work. He was a sloppy lay. Gross, no.” Stephanie says, and we all laugh.
Jessica gasps and covers her mouth with her hand. Her eyes light up when she says the last three words I ever want to hear, “What about Ben?”
I am silently praying Stephanie will shout her usual no, ewe, or yuck. But instead she contemplates the idea in her head and places her index finger over her lips. Those few seconds feel like hours before she gushes with a wicked smirk, “I have a confession.”
I feel a lump form in my throat and my stomach clenches. No. I do not want to hear anything she is about to say.
“I have slept with Ben.”
Whack! There it is. A blow so hard it renders me speechless.
“What?” Jessica squeals, “No way? Recently?”
My heart thumps painfully in my chest as Stephanie continues, “Yeah, like less than a month ago.”
“When was this?” Michelle shouts forcing her hands to her hips.
“The same night Megan had us over at her place to go over wedding stuff. That night, and a few other times after that.” Stephanie says smiling proudly to herself.
“Megan did you know about this?” Jessica asks in a high-pitched voice.
“No.” I say feeling angry tears stinging my eyes. I take a deep breath and blink them away. I think of that party, that night, and I want to scream. I remember them flirting on my couch and Ben loving every minute of it.
I remember them leaving together and Stephanie dangling off his arm as they drunkenly stumbled out of my condo and into a cab. Little did I know, they weren’t going separate ways.
“Oh, Megan wouldn’t have known” Stephanie casually says and admires her nails. “Ben asked me not to tell anybody, and pulled his typical shit by sleeping with some other chick the next weekend. You know what he’s like.”
“I can’t believe you never told me that!” Michelle exclaims with her jaw practically on the floor.
I am trying hard to force air into my lungs and not freak out right now. I want to hate Stephanie, slap her across the face, and rip her hair out. But it is not her I hate. It’s Ben.
I look up at the girls, feeling like such an idiot. I should have known. He is a player, and always will be. I take a deep breath, and wish I didn’t care that Ben and Stephanie had a secret romp together. I try my hardest to not imagine them kissing, touching and humping. But images of them together pollute my brain, making me feel slightly ill. I hate that I can’t even wail over my heartbreak and humiliation after finding out I’m his sloppy seconds. I am never speaking to Ben EVER again. Now our friendship is over and so is our secret affair.
I wince when I hear Michelle ask Stephanie what he was like in the sack. I try to block them out, so I hum the tune of “Don’t Worry Be Happy” in my head, but that doesn’t work. Instead I find myself being sucked right back into their conversation. I listen to her graphically describe his impressive length, and she even mentions the birthmark on his shaft. Then she starts talking about how great he was, how intense their sex was, and by this point I think my chest is going to collapse. I want to burst into tears, but I won’t.
“So why don’t you try and see if something’s still there? Ben needs to be tamed, like badly. Maybe you are the just the girl to do it.” Jessica says with a wink.
Breathe Megan. You can do it. Just breathe.
“Well the other night when he was in our villa, hanging out with Megan, he looked mighty fine.” Michelle says biting her lip.