by Amy Daws
Before I can chicken out, I join Leslie and mimic her obnoxious moves. She hoots and hollers at me to continue, and we laugh and dance together like lunatics. This is me—this is the Finley I want to be. The self-assured, don’t give a damn, do what you want kind of woman. I need to remember this.
***
CHAPTER fifteen
Jen informs us that there’s talk of after parties going on at Wildwood. We all gather and totter down the dark sidewalk past Chaz’s to continue the party. Olivia left early to go to bed because she has to work in the morning. I look around briefly for Jake, but he is nowhere to be found. My hope is that he’s back at Wildwood, because it’s time we have a serious talk about our shit. I’m ready to just lay it all out there so I can move on—with or without him.
When we get to Wildwood, various clusters of students are staggered throughout the parking lot, drinking beer and socializing. Leslie and Angela stop at one of the previous buildings where several of Angela’s poli-sci friends are hanging out. I hang for a moment, but then decide I want to go find Jake. I tell Lez my plan and she gives me a big thumbs-up as I take off the rest of the way toward his place.
Jake’s lights are all out in his apartment. If he’s gone to bed, he’s nothing but a big party pooper, so I walk right into his apartment, assuming knocking would be a waste of time if he’s passed out. The door is unlocked, so I wobble quickly toward his bedroom door and swing it open with a big smile on my face.
I flip on the lights so I can wake him, and my voice catches in my throat at the sight before me. I exhale a deep breath and look away, trying to get ahold of myself. My trembling hands grip the tiny bits of fabric on my shirt as my eyes focus in on Jake and Olivia, in bed together. My Jake. In bed. With my friend, Olivia. How is this even possible? How did this transpire?
I clench my stomach in pain. I feel like someone took a two-by-four and swung it at me just as I opened the door. I bite the inside of my cheek, hard, willing myself to look away from the intimate scene, but it’s like watching a bad car accident—as upsetting as it is, I can’t look away. Olivia shifts and brings her hand to her face to shield the light from her eyes. Her naked breast pops out from beneath the gray sheet. My already pained stomach rolls.
“What the fuck?” she croaks out, groggily, with her brown hair strewn all over Jake’s pillow. Jake stirs in response to her voice, his arm draped protectively over her naked waist.
His dark chocolate eyes flutter and open straight to me, as if he could feel my presence in his sleep. His eyes squint for a second, and then turn wide.
“Finl…” he starts, but I cut him off.
“I…uhh…” I bark out an awkward laugh. I shake my head, trying to form a coherent response. “Sorry,” I mumble, and turn to exit. My hand covers my mouth as mortification envelops me.
“What the fuck?” I hear Olivia grumble again, and I stop dead in my tracks, feeling her voice grate on my last semblance of control. I turn back to look at the two of them together. Once more. Just once more I need to get a good look at this scene. Jake moves his arm off of Olivia’s waist and rubs the top of his short black hair.
“This is really something!” I hear myself say, from outside my body. My voice sounds manic and high-pitched, barely recognizable. “I never would have thought!”
“Finley, it’s just…” Jake starts to get up, his chiseled chest on full display, and all I want to do is scrape my fingernails across it until they leave marks. I squeeze my nails into my palms to stop myself from rushing over and acting out what I see so perfectly in my head.
“No, Jake, really—this is all my fault! I’m incredibly sorry,” I draw out the word with dramatic fashion and chagrin. Before either of them can respond, I add, “I had no idea you two were so into each other. That’s really great. Special even. I’m really quite happy for you guys.”
Olivia squirms to sit up, clutching Jake’s sheet to her bare chest. Her expression looks pensive and uneasy. “It just happened, Fin. It’s not like you were…” her voice trails off.
“It’s not like I what, Olivia? It’s not like I had any claim on him? You are so right!” I point at nothing and look up at the ceiling, deep in thought, preparing for a tangent. “I have zero claim here. Zip. Zilch. Nada.” I stop myself and look seriously at Jake, all lightness evaporating from my expression. “We’re just good buds, right Jake.” It’s a statement, not a question. He looks down, avoiding my piercing gaze.
I smile, meanly. “Please, excuse me,” I say, storming out of his bedroom and through the living room. Holy shit, what did I just say to them? Humiliation boils over me as I rush out the apartment door and straight into the parking lot. I stop dead in my tracks outside his front door, glancing at his bedroom light through his window. His curtains are drawn—thank God. I can’t let them see me like this. I need to get myself to the safety of my own apartment, but my feet feel frozen in place. Why? Why can’t I make myself move away from his apartment door? Move, Finley! This is embarrassing enough without you having a nervous breakdown right in the middle of Wildwood!
I will myself to move and head straight across the lot toward my apartment door. I don’t bother going to find Angela and Leslie. I can’t. I can’t face them right now. How am I supposed to tell the two friends closest to me that the guy I’ve been spending immeasurable amounts of time with, and daydreaming about a future with, just fucked one of my closest friends? How can I say those words out loud? How can I face such humiliation?
“Fuuuuuuck!” I scream, stopping suddenly in the middle of the lot and stomping my foot like a petulant child. I hastily wipe two wet tears off my cheeks. I could just kick myself for being such a fool and crying right now. I’ve been a fool for way too long. I’ve let Jake LaShae occupy my thoughts and time for way too damn long. Aside from the one intimate moment in my room, he hasn’t given me any clear indication he wanted anything more.
I close my eyes, remembering the intimate touch of his hand on my collarbone and his hips grinding against mine on the dance floor. My mind is then assaulted with the image of Olivia’s amble bosom popping out from beneath the sheets. Fucking damn it all to hell!
I grip my arms tightly across my chest, feeling suddenly ridiculous at the scantily clad outfit I’m wearing. All for what? For who? For a friend? Jake may not have been mine to claim, but he was certainly a good friend. Isn’t there some sort of bro-code people follow that’s kinder than the car wreck I just walked in on? And Olivia, Jesus. What the hell was she thinking? She knows about my feelings for Jake. We talk enough for her to know how close Jake and I have become the past few weeks. This girl has been my friend for nearly four years now. Does the girl-code in this situation not call for better behavior?
Jesus, Finley. Get a grip on yourself. Quit caring. It probably never would have worked, and it should have never gone on this long anyway. Guys and girls cannot be just friends. It never works. Someone’s feelings always get involved. I deserve better than this.
I let myself into my apartment and head straight for the bathroom, stripping out of my clothes and jumping into the shower. I roughly scrub the makeup off my face, growing angrier and angrier at the fact that I did all this for him.
My anger morphs to sadness and shame. I’ve never experienced this level of rejection. The fact that it was a slow-churning rejection that began the minute Jake spoke to me that day at Chaz’s, makes it all sting so much more.
I sit down on the floor of the shower and let the hot steaming water fall haphazardly all over me. Despite myself, my eyes burn with tears, flowing freely down my face with the rushing water. I brush back my thick wet strands and bite my knuckle, begging myself to stop crying.
I think back to the epiphany I had when I was dancing on stage with Leslie. That’s the Finley I want to be. Not this crying, sniveling, mess of a woman, scorned by someone who’s never even kissed her. Angela dumped Luke because she knew she deserved better. I can’t be a hypocrite. Fuck them. Fuck them both. Jake and Olivia ca
n have each other.
“Fin Fin?” I hear Leslie’s voice shout into the apartment. The door to the bathroom opens almost immediately after.
“Yeah,” I reply, my voice thick with emotion, revealing my true state.
“Shit. Thank God. She’s in here!” Leslie calls out the door. “Holy fucking fuck, Finny. We just saw Oldie ‘Oli!” Leslie says, once Angela joins her in our tiny bathroom.
“That’s great,” I mumble and haul myself up off the shower floor. “I don’t know if I can talk right now, guys.”
“Finny, do I really have to say the cracks right now?” Lez says, pressing her hand against the foggy glass.
I swallow hard, attempting to muster some strength. “I assume you guys heard?”
“Heard that Olivia is a dirty slut? Schyeah, no big shock there,” Angela says, as I rinse back my hair one more time.
I cut the water off and let myself drip-dry behind the safety of the glass door for a minute. I shouldn’t feel ashamed to face my friends, but damn it all to hell, I am. This is embarrassing as fuck.
I open the door and grab the towel off the hook, wrapping myself up tightly. I step out and look into four concerned and sympathetic eyes. “I’m fine,” I say, as much for myself as for them. My chin wobbles.
“If you weren’t, I would understand,” Leslie says, reaching her hand out to touch my arm.
I shake her off and head over to the sink. I grab my comb and begin ripping through my hair, harder than necessary, but needing something to do.
“What did you guys hear?” I ask, looking at them both through the reflection in the mirror. It feels easier to look at their concerned faces through the safety of a mirror.
“Oldie ‘Oli came out of Jake’s apartment just as we came looking for you. Talk about the walk of shame,” Leslie says, cutting a disgusted look to Angela, who nods in agreement.
“She was acting all innocent, like she didn’t do a thing. I knew instantly what she’d done. A dog can’t change its spots,” Angela adds, with a sneer.
“She’s a crinkly old grannie, Fin,” Leslie interjects. “Honestly. If Jake thinks she’s better than you, he’s a damn idiot.” The idea of being second best in the eyes of someone you’ve grown to care about stings something fierce.
Angela scoffs, “She acted like she had no idea you and Jake have been hanging out non-stop for the last month. What a royal bitch.” I shake my head slightly in response and turn to face them.
“Guys, honestly. I have no claim on him,” I say, flatly.
“Yeah, but jeez. There’s code for this stuff! It’s obvious to everyone you…” Angela trails off.
“It’s obvious to everyone I like him. God, I’m mortified,” I groan, feeling sick.
“Not everyone, everyone. I mean…” Angela trails off again, still unsure how to finish that sentence without further pounding a nail in my coffin.
“Listen. It’s embarrassing enough this is going to go public and humiliate the shit out of me. Wildwood shit spreads like fire. I just want to minimize it all as much as possible. Jake and I didn’t happen. He didn’t want me. He just…” I shrug my shoulders and feel tears creep into my eyes again.
“I don’t think he doesn’t want you,” Angela bargains, indignantly.
“Don’t fill me full of bullshit, A. If he wanted me, he’d have me by now. I was so freaking obvious,” I groan, and turn away from them. Damn this mortification. Damn it all to hell.
“He is a bloody lunatic, Finley!” Leslie reproaches. “You deserve ten million times better. Honestly, I’m just going to say it. He seemed like a shallow jerk to me. I didn’t like him. I don’t know what you saw in him.” I look sadly at her.
“Let’s order pizza!” Angela interrupts, with wide excited eyes.
“Honestly, I just want to go to bed.” I smile sadly, feeling grateful, now more than ever, for these two amazing friends. Having Leslie here with me will hopefully help me get the hell over myself. I need to move on from Jake. I never had him in the first place, and this is the punch in the gut I needed.
***
“Come snuggle me, you sexy beast,” Leslie says, after getting into her PJs and jumping into my bed.
I smile, flip off the light, and crawl into bed with her. A faint light creeps in from the parking lot and her green eyes look at me warily.
“I need more,” she says, rolling on her side to face me.
“More what?” I ask.
“Finley, I know you like him, so I’m trying to be kind here. But he seemed shallow to me. I picture you with someone…” she pauses, looking toward the window, deep in thought. “Someone more like us, I guess.” I purse my lips to the side. “And I sure as hell picture you with someone better than a guy who will fuck your friend. You guys may not have been in a relationship but he is a royal prick to be so selfish.”
“I know. I know I need to just move on from him. It’s hard to let go when I wasn’t the instigator.”
“You were always the one to break off relationships growing up. But this isn’t you…fawning over a guy who’s half of a man, at best. He was attractive, yes. But if you really look at what you two had together, was it everything you hoped to find in your future lover?”
She says lover with a French accent and I giggle softly. “Probably not. Maybe I just got swept up in the chase. I don’t know. And I did like him, truly. He wasn’t always bad. But I know what you’re saying.”
“You’re better than this. Our mamas didn’t raise no fools. But come on, Finny. You are beautiful, inside and out. You have a heart that opens so naturally to people. The guy that is meant for you is still out there.”
I reach over and squeeze her tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here Leslie. I needed you.”
“That’s what best friends are for,” she says, and smiles. “To be here when your crush fucks your friend.”
“Oh! Bad form!” I cry out, laughing heartily.
When Leslie stops laughing, she sighs. “Now I, on the other hand, am going to end up married to a gay man. My vajayjay will shrivel up and die because it won’t be properly serviced. I’ll die alone with my fifty cats, my sewing machine, and one fiercely designed moo-moo.”
I laugh emphatically at the sight. “The guy that manages to capture you, Lez, is going to have to be tough as nails to break through your hard shell. But that’s how we’ll know he’s worth it.”
She rolls on her back and squints thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Night, Finny.”
“Night, Lezzy.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I skip my morning class the next day so I can see Leslie off and sleep off a nasty hangover. I head to work after she leaves and manage not to see Jake. Either he’s doing a stellar job avoiding me or he’s actually busy. My mind wants him to just be busy—but then, my mind also wants to punch myself in the face for caring.
Parni is front and center at her computer when I come in, along with a sprinkling of several other students I don’t bother acknowledging.
“Parni,” I say, passing her and heading over to my desk. She just looks up at me in response. Radio silence from Parni even, man I’m feeling like a winner today!
Knowing I won’t be able to concentrate on homework, I grab one of my favorite Elizabeth Young novels and start re-reading my favorite parts. The way she writes usually fills my soul with such giddy hope for falling in love, but damn, today it just feels depressing because shit in real life never happens the way it does in books. Ain’t that a bitch.
Suddenly, Taio Cruz’s Dynamite song echoes through the computer lab. My face flames red when Parni and several other students look up from their work. In our drunken pizza stupor last night, Leslie was messing with the ringtones on my phone, and the bitch made Dynamite my text notification. I stifle a smile and chance another look at Parni, who shoots me a furious gaze.
I slide the screen to unlock it and view the new text.
Olivia: Hey, what’s up?
Me: Working.
Oli
via: Fun!
Three minutes later.
Olivia: Wanna hang this weekend?
Me: I don’t know what I’m doing yet.
Olivia: That’s why I’m asking if you want to hang! Making plans…duh!
Me: I’m probably going to pass.
Olivia: Seriously? Is this going to be a thing?
Me: It’s not a thing…I’m just trying to stay out of drama.
I begin to wonder if Jake and Olivia are going to start dating. The idea of watching her walk into his apartment, hanging out in the same places we’d hung out so frequently, makes my stomach roll.
Olivia: There’s no drama. Let’s not make a big deal out of this. I don’t even like him like that.
She doesn’t even like him like that. What a great reason to do that to a friend! I bark out a laugh and Parni shakes her head dubiously at me.
Me: You guys should date. You’re perfect for each other.
Olivia: Oh for God’s sake. We’re not going to date.
I roll my eyes and try to come up with a response to stop this line of conversation because I just don’t give a shit about them. Either of them. They can get married for all I care. After chatting with Leslie and Angela last night, I learned quickly that I’ve been putting Jake on a pedestal for months, and the hype did not live up to the reality. I’m done with Jake. I’m done with Olivia.
Me: I just think I need some space for a bit. Nothing major. Just want to focus on school and stuff.
Olivia: Sounds like bullshit.
Olivia can stew with no response from me for a while. I shut my phone off and jump back into my novel. After my little revelation, the pages don’t seem quite so unbelievable now. That miraculous, epic love can happen, it just has to be with the right person, and Jake LaShae is most definitely not the one. Leslie’s right—I need someone who gets me.