by Sharpe, Elle
OUR BEST FRIENDS’ ENGAGEMENT PARTY
* * *
(FOUR YEARS LATER)
Ronan
I had not forgotten about Norah Green.
Not for lack of trying.
It wasn’t like I thought about her constantly, or dreamed about her every night. But she did slip into my head at certain moments. Certain private moments.
Without even trying, I would remember the way she’d said “Fuck.” Or the way she’d said, “You’re an asshole,” almost like it was a good thing. Or at least a pleasurable thing. A torturous thing.
That night had been...confusing. Maybe that was why it kept popping up in my fantasies again and again. That was also the last time I had seen her. Even though her best friend was in a relationship with my best friend, our paths hadn’t crossed since.
Until now.
I could see her standing in the soft lamplight at the opposite end of my sprawling green lawn, just outside the entrance to the big white outdoor dining tent. She was wearing her familiar introvert’s party scowl, which I recognized even from afar. After all this time Norah Green was on my property, walking the same paved paths that I walked every day. And she looked...far better than should have been allowed.
Even in a crowd full of well-dressed party guests, Norah stood out to me a mile off. She’d been hard enough to look at back in her college days, when she'd made a point of making no effort whatsoever. But now, for the sake of Jen’s engagement party, she had dressed herself up. It turned out she had quite a knack for it.
She was wearing a silky blue slip dress that skimmed elegantly over every curve of her body, and hung suggestively over the rounded shape of her breasts. The type of dress that looked classy as hell, and also like it could be torn off as easily as tissue paper. Gorgeous swirls of red-brown hair fell over her almost bare shoulders.
I dug my nails into the meat of my palm, trying not to imagine brushing a long strand of hair back from her neck…
She’d probably have smacked me.
It would have been helpful to have had a cold, soothing glass of bourbon in my hand. But there was nothing of the sort on the premises tonight.
Shortly after Jen and Chris had officially gotten together, he’d stopped drinking entirely. Now every Jen party was a Jen-and-Chris party, and also a booze-free affair. Because Jen was a fiend about parties, she managed to make them plenty entertaining, even without alcohol.
At least, they were entertaining to people who enjoyed parties. That was no guarantee that Norah would enjoy herself. Or that I would, for that matter. But I’d been happy to offer my back yard as the venue, regardless. Chris and Jen were worth it.
I saw the lovely bride-and-groom-to-be come up to Norah. Her face shifted into an easy smile, and she wrapped Jen up in a hug. I suspected that Jen and Chris might be the only people at the party that Norah knew.
I forced myself to shift my attention from Norah to Chris. He was lightly fiddling with Jen’s short-cropped black hair, like a kitten repeatedly flicking at a piece of dangling yarn. This clearly provided him with a lot of enjoyment.
It really did make me feel gratified to see him looking so happy. He was still a boiling-over pot of energy, but ever since he’d stopped drinking he wasn’t quite as loud about it. He was charming nowadays, in a boyish sort of way. He was very well-liked in his job at Baylor. The type of person who set other people at their ease. Who clearly felt comfortable in his own skin.
He and Jen were basically the perfect couple. Two fun people who never got bored of each other.
I watched Jen slip a sneaky hand down to Chris’s butt and grip him tight, like she was honking a horn. He retaliated by doing the exact same back to her. Soon they’d locked eyes, and they were in the middle of an intense grope-off. Norah looked torn between rolling her eyes and laughing.
And then she looked between the happy couple and saw me watching her. My hand twitched, suddenly restless with too much energy. Norah had always looked at me so...intensely. Like seeing me was some sort of trial she was compelled to endure. It was just the same now. Her eyes said something like, “Oh, no.”
Jen turned, following Norah’s gaze. She smiled wide and gestured for me to come over.
Well, I thought, this should be interesting, at least.
As I walked over I watched Norah shift her face into a more neutral expression. She squared her shoulders, like she was preparing for battle.
“Hey Ronan, Norah,” Jen said brightly. “I don’t know if you guys remember each other-”
“Hmm...Ronan...” she muttered, like she was trying to dredge up an ancient memory. “Yeah...I think that name...sounds familiar…”
Wow. Bold move. Not at all believable, but still bold. I flashed all my teeth at her.
“Norah Green. It has been far, far too long.”
“Hmm, interesting take. I, on the other hand, would argue that it has not nearly been long enough.”
“Oh, so you do remember me.”
“Um...nope.”
She blinked up at me innocently.
“Norah,” Jen said with deliberate slowness, clearly trying not to laugh, “Ronan Baylor is the internationally famous and exorbitantly rich heir to the Baylor Hotels fortune. I’m pretty sure you remember who he is.”
“Huh. Does not...ring a bell…”
“You do know that this is his extremely beautiful mansion where we’re having this party right now?”
Norah’s lip twitched, as her eyes flicked momentarily up to the house. It was craftsman-style mansion, and true to the name it was beautifully crafted, with characterful details balanced against simple refinement. It tended to make a good impression on people.
“I...did not know that,” Norah said, turning subtly towards Jen, “You did not happen to mention that to me.”
“Was there a reason why I should have made sure to tell you this particular fact?” Jen inquired curiously.
Norah pressed her lips together in a rather eye-catching manner.
“Nope. No reason.” She had started talking very quickly. “Also, you know, this house isn’t all that great.”
“You literally just said to me, and I quote, ‘Oh my God, what even is this house, this is the most amazing house I have ever been to, seriously is this place even real?’”
“Yeah. I mean. It’s fine, I guess. It’s a fine house.”
Jen looked between Norah and I, with a smile that read ‘delighted and a little bit evil’. Which was amusing, until she pointed that smile directly at me.
“So when exactly was the last time you two saw-”
“So what do you do, Norah?” I asked quickly. I had just realized that I didn’t want to be interrogated about “the last time we were together” any more than Norah did.
Chris forgot his fascination with Jen’s butt for a moment, and swung enthusiastically into the conversation.
“Norah has quite a good thing going on the sosh-meeds,” was how he summarized Norah’s vocation.
“She’s a celebrity,” Jen added, doing an impression of a proud parent who was a bit delusional about their child’s accomplishments.
“I have a small but loyal following,” Norah corrected her. She looked very uncomfortable.
“So, what exactly do you do?” I asked.
“You know, it’s not really important.”
“She has a YouTube channel,” Jen said. “She sings songs. She’s an influencer.”
“You really don’t need to use that word. It’s really okay if you don’t.”
“Yeah, she’s really hilarious,” Chris added. “She’s got a great...what do you call it...a shmick?”
“I think you mean a ‘shtick,’ Chris,” Norah said. “I’ve got a great shtick. Yup, that’s just how I always hoped to sum up my accomplishments in life.”
She started fidgeting with the very thin straps of her dress. She probably didn’t realize that this resulted in more of her cleavage being exposed. I shook my head, trying to regain my focus.
&nbs
p; “Okay, so, sorry, let me get this clear,” I said. “You make your living singing funny songs to a small number of people on the Internet?”
“I also do weddings sometimes. And the occasional bar mitzvah. Hey, those hors d'oeuvres waaaaay over there look really good, so I’m going to go over there. And get some of them. And eat them. Goodbye.”
Norah dashed to the other side of the garden so fast that her hair flew out behind her, like the sails of a fleeing ship.
Jen whipped her head around to me. She gave me such a significant look that I was tempted to flee myself.
“Sooooooooo,” she said, enjoying every single second of the ten minutes that she stretched the word out for. “You...and Norah…”
“Whoa, wait, really?” Chris finally started picking up on what was happening. “You and Norah- Wait, bro, what about you and Norah? Did you and Norah...What’s going on? I’m not totally following what’s happening.”
“No comment,” I said.
This clearly only made Jen more excited.
“No comment?” she said. “No. Comment?”
Her eyes had grown worrying wide.
“Okay, look, nothing has ever happened between me and Norah,” I lied, trying to shut the conversation down.
“Then why is she acting so weird?” Jen demanded.
“Because she’s a weird person?”
“That is not untrue, but this is a different variety than usual. Oh my God, this is great. Oh Ronan,” She put her hand on my arm and squeezed. “You have given me such a great engagement gift. Thank you. Thank you. So much.”
“Jennifer-”
She gave Chris a quick kiss on the cheek. “See you in a sec. I just have to go do a thing. Bye, darling. Bye, Ronan.”
I swore I saw her wink at me over her shoulder as she left.
Norah
It really was the most beautiful house I had ever seen.
If you’d asked me before what type of house Ronan Baylor probably lived in, I would have described a hideous chrome-and-marble nightmare. Instead I found myself in the lush green gardens of a dignified arts-and-crafts mansion. It was tall and grand enough to be imposing, but so charming and comfortable that it made you want to snuggle yourself into a corner of it and never leave. The patio I was standing on had some of the most beautiful tile work I had ever seen. God, I loved a good tile.
Did I really need another reason to hate Ronan Baylor? Did he have to have great taste in tiles too? Was there no justice in the world?
The party was also beautiful. It was a beautiful party in a beautiful location, full of beautiful people with lots of money. They didn’t all have Ronan Baylor not-quite-a-billionaire-yet money. Probably not even anything close to that. But most of them had high-powered-corporate-America money, which was still a hell of a lot more money than I had.
Jen and Chris had spent their corporate dollars on many beautiful paper light fixtures, a string quartet, some rented dining tables, one of those big white tents that people put dining tables inside of, a very elaborate-gold-and-porcelain table setting for the dining tables, and a huge quantity of the most delicious food I had ever eaten. The food was the main thing that was keeping me from leaving.
And Jen. I reluctantly admitted to myself that I would have endured all the uncomfortable fanciness, and even the Ronan-Baylor-ness of it all, for Jen’s sake. Even without the food. But the food didn’t hurt.
Speaking of the devil, Jen tapped me on the shoulder. She’d finally tracked me down in my new skulking corner, after I’d run off so suddenly before. I’d found a lovely wooden bench in an area slightly shielded by some shrubbery—no doubt it was a hand-carved artisanal bench worth thousands of dollars—and planted myself there to avoid any more awkward conversations about my frankly fake-sounding “career.”
Jen sat down next to me on the bench.
“Hey cool lady, hanging out alone next to a bush with...an entire tray of mini-cream tarts that I guess you just stole right out of a caterer’s hands.”
“Hi Jen,” I replied. “I’m having a great time.”
I grabbed a tart from the large tray sitting at my feet, and popped it into my mouth.
“I’d ask you to tell me who the caterer was,” I said, with my cheeks still impolitely full of tart, “But I doubt I could ever afford them.”
My chewing slowed when I recognized a certain bright-eyed expression on Jen’s face. In high school she’d had those same eyes right before she’d played end-of-year pranks on the teachers.
“Hey, Jen? Whatever you’re thinking, can you please not be thinking it anymore?”
“Too late.”
“Oh Lord, Jen. What does ‘too late’ mean?”
“All shall be revealed in due time, my friend. All in due time. But first, is there anything about Ronan Baylor you’d like to share?”
Oh God.
“Um, I hate him? I’ve always hated him. I always will hate him. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.”
Jen’s grin seemed to grow shinier somehow. It was...disconcerting.
“Why do you hate him so much, Norah?”
“For obvious reasons.”
“Yeah, oh, for sure,” she nodded. “Smart, handsome, extremely rich. All the worst qualities.”
“See? You understand.”
“Yeah, in fact everyone I know totally hates him just as much as you do.”
“As they should.”
“Which is why, as my maid of honor, who promised to do any annoying wedding-related task that I threw her way, I am going to ask you to do a huge, self-sacrificing favor-”
“I don’t like where this is going, Jen.”
“-and be Ronan’s partner in Thunderdome.”
I swallowed down my horrified reaction. Then I swallowed again.
Firstly, I hadn’t even known she was planning to do Thunderdome. That was a party tradition from many years past, and I’d sort of assumed that as a high-flying young professional she’d decided to outgrow it. But if anyone could get away with being a corporate badass and a ridiculous eternal child, it was Jen.
If she’d told me this part of the plan earlier I would have been thrilled. Thunderdome filled me with nostalgia and was close to my heart. But Thunderdome with Ronan? That was like taking my safe space and turning it into my torture chamber.
“Jen. Jen. Jen.” I really couldn’t think of what else to say. “No.”
She gave me a firm pat on the shoulder, and looked me in the eye for an uncomfortably long time.
“Norah. Sweet, stupid Norah. You’re angry at me now, but someday you will thank me. Just you wait.”
“Jen please don’t do this to me. You don’t understand-”
“Oh, but I think I do understand. Also, it’s too late. The names of the pairs have already been printed. Chris is posting the list on that big board over there right now.”
I followed her pointing finger to Chris, who was pinning a large piece of paper to a cork board on an A-frame in the middle of the lawn.
“Also Thunderdome starts in-”
She reached into the pocket of her cocktail-dress-that-had-pockets, and pulled out her phone to check the time.
“T-minus thirty seconds.”
“Jen, think of our many years of friendship.”
“Twenty-five seconds. Twenty-four seconds. Norah, did you happen to notice that I already have this wireless microphone in my hand?”
“Crap,” I said. “So you do.”
“Fourteen. Thirteen. I’m turning it on now.”
“I will never forgive you, Jen.”
Jen lowered her mouth to the mic and started speaking into it.
“Ten. Nine. Eight.” She got up and started walking into the middle of the crowd. Reluctantly I trailed after. “Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Hello, honored guests!”
Her voice boomed out across the garden. The string quartet stopped playing Mozart mid-concerto. All the fancy party people turned to look.
“Thank you so much f
or being here today, to celebrate my impending union with that man over there.”
She pointed to Chris. He gave a charming smile-and-wave combination.
“It’s been a beautiful party so far,” she said dreamily. “An elegant, serene evening.”
Abruptly her voice shifted into something that sounded a lot closer to Bane from Batman.
“But all of that ends now. Because now is the time for battle. Now is the time for a showdown to the death. The moment has come, for the great and ancient ritual known as THUNDERDOME.”
When she said the word “Thunderdome” her voice dropped about eight octaves.
“ALL GUESTS TO THE LAWN NOW. MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!”
I glanced over at the A-frame, even though I already knew what I would see. Ronan was already there, standing in front of it. He stroked his chin thoughtfully as he read the first pair of partners on the list: Norah Green + Ronan Baylor.
Ronan
Norah looked like she wanted to set the entire party on fire. Somehow it only made her more attractive than ever.
“So, partner, what exactly is Thunderdome?” I asked her.
She kept her arms crossed, and stared straight ahead.
“Right now,” she said. “It’s my own personal hell.”
It turned out Thunderdome was a series of party games played in pairs. Pairs who lost the games were eliminated at the end of each round, until only one couple remained.
Looking around at the other pairings, I noticed that the established couples had been paired together. Also, the only guests who had been paired up with members of the same sex were the gay ones. Interesting. Very interesting.
As soon as Jen finished describing the first game, Norah rounded on me.
“Okay, listen here Baylor. I know what you’re thinking. You think party games are lame. You’re already brainstorming all of your judgmental comments. But let me tell you something: I take Thunderdome very seriously. Okay? Very seriously. I am the current reigning Thunderdome champion, and I do not want to lose my title. So you’re going to make a god-damn effort here, or you will live to regret it.”