Just Watch the Fireworks

by Monica Alexander

  Thirteen

  I woke up the next morning with Gryffin snoring next to me, his head on my other pillow. My eyes felt puffy and my head clogged. Obviously, crying myself to sleep had not been the best idea. I rolled over and replayed the night in my head, wishing I could have convinced Ryan that nothing was going on with Beckett, but that was hard to do when I thought I might be guiltier of what he’d accused than I’d originally thought.

  Something had happened between me and Beckett up there on that stage as we goofed off, singing to each other and making fools of ourselves. There was something stirring in me that had been silent for a while, but I could distinctly feel it. As I’d lain in bed the night before, feeling sad, guilty and heartbroken, I realized how much I wished I wasn’t waging this internal battle. I had a great guy who loved me and wanted to marry me, but it didn’t seem to be enough.

  And what was worse, that great guy was now debating whether or not he even wanted to be with me. I never wanted to hurt him. I just wished he could understand that I needed to be friends with Beckett. I couldn’t let him walk out of my life again. I liked having him as a friend, and I needed Ryan to be okay with that.

  ***

  Later that day, Gryffin and I were lounging on the couch, watching reruns of Sex and the City – he’s a big fan – when the phone rang. My first thought was that it was Ryan calling, but it wasn’t. The ringtone told me it was Beckett. He’d taken my phone one morning after a run and programmed ‘When I Come Around’ by Green Day for his number.

  “Hello?” I said apprehensively, as I muted the TV. I suddenly felt self-conscious talking to him.

  “Hey, Court,” he said, sounding totally normal. His voice sounded like home to me.

  “Hey Beck. How are you?” I was very aware that my voice sounded scratchy.

  “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You and Ryan headed out so fast last night, and he seemed upset. I guess I’m just checking on you.”

  Tears pricked the backs of my eyes again. He was so sweet. Why couldn’t Ryan be more like him?

  “I’m okay,” I said softly, but it came out strangled, and before I knew it I was rehashing the whole story of what had transpired between me and Ryan outside the club. I was crying and rambling and sharing way too much information with the last person who needed to know.

  When I finally stopped my blubbering rant, Beckett said, “Wow, what a jerk.”

  I knew he was just trying to be nice, but it made me feel worse. I didn’t like him talking about Ryan that way.

  “He’s not a jerk,” I said in Ryan’s defense. “He loves me, and I totally suck. I should have respected his wishes and stayed away from you.”

  Beckett sucked in a breath, and I realized what I’d said.

  “I’m sorry, Beck. It’s not what I want, but our friendship is hurting my relationship, and that just sucks.”

  “I don’t want us to stop hanging out, Court,” he said after a few seconds of silence. “But if that’s what you need to be okay with Ryan, I’ll take a step back. I don’t want to be a source of dissention with you guys.”

  I started crying harder then. “I don’t want that,” I said. “I’ve loved hanging out with you again.”

  “Me too,” he said softly.

  My tears fell silently, rolling down my cheeks as he said that. Beckett was quiet on his end, as well, and I wondered what he was thinking.

  “So what are your plans for today?” Beckett asked then, changing the subject to a safer topic.

  I sniffed once and wiped the tears off my cheeks, trying to pull myself back together. “Oh, Gryffin and I have big plans of lying on my couch and watching Sex and the City all day.”

  In response to his name, Gryffin snorted. I laughed out loud, which sounded foreign to me.

  “What was that?!” Beckett asked, laughing on the other end of the line. “Did you just snort?”

  Gyffin started barking in response to my laughter which only made me laugh harder.

  “No, it’s my crazy-ass dog,” I said through my laughter as Gryffin howled beside me, then jumped down and started attacking his stuffed lion, wrestling it back and forth with his teeth. “He’s seriously insane.”

  “I think I need to meet him,” Beckett said. “He sounds awesome.”

  “He really is.”

  “Alright, well I just wanted to be sure you were okay. I hope you and Ryan make up. But if you don’t, and you feel like talking to someone, you can always call me.”

  Damn, if only he wasn’t so nice. Ryan had been an asshole the night before, and he hadn’t called to check on me. Point for Beckett. Not that I was keeping score.

  “Thanks Beck. I appreciate it.”

  “No problem, Court. I’m here for you, you know, as a friend.”

  There was something in his tone, and I wondered how much he tacked on that last part as an afterthought. The more I thought about it, I could see how Ryan would think there was something between us, and I wondered just how right he was.

  ***

  By eight o’clock, I was tired of TV. Summer had come home from the store and left for dinner with Patrick, so I was alone again. Ryan hadn’t called, and since he’d asked for time to think, I wasn’t going to call him. I wondered how much time he’d need seeing as he was leaving for San Francisco on Monday. Would he leave without resolving this thing between us? Or would he end things before leaving and make a clean break? I didn’t even want to consider that.

  Realizing how little I’d eaten all day, I headed to the kitchen to make myself some macaroni and cheese. I needed comfort food. As the water boiled on the stove, I hesitantly retrieved my cell phone from the living room, and without realizing what I was doing, I called Beckett. It was after eight, so there was a good chance he might not be home, but I just needed to talk to someone.

  “Hey Court,” he said cheerfully when he answered the phone on the second ring. I wondered what my ringtone was when I called him. “What’s up?”

  I didn’t know what to say. Why had I called him?

  “Actually,” I said, trying to buy time, “I was just calling to say hi and thank you for calling me earlier. It was nice of you to be concerned.”

  “Hey, no problem. That’s what friends are for.” There was that friends reference again. “So,” he continued, “are you still saying home with Gryffin tonight?”

  “I guess so,” I said, resigned to the fact that my night would be boring.

  “Well, if you want to do something else, I’m meeting some friends at the Beacon Hill Pub. It’s right down the street from you. You can join us, if you’d like.”

  Suddenly, that sounded like a lot of fun, especially since it beat sitting at home and being depressed. And it might be nice to meet some new people.

  “That actually sounds like a lot of fun,” I said, wondering, if it was a bad idea to hang out with him after fighting with Ryan about hanging out with him. “What time are you meeting?”

  “We were going to get there around nine.”

  “Okay, I’ll meet you there,” I said. “Who’s going? Anyone I know?”

  I was really asking if Julie was going to be there, but he didn’t need to know that. Why was I so concerned about her? I needed to be worried about my own relationship, not Beckett’s.

  “I don’t think you know anyone who’s coming. Well, Julie’s coming, so I guess you know her. Other than that, it’s going to be my buddies from school Tim, Alex and Greg who I lived with during my first two years of grad school and Greg’s girlfriend, Ari.”

  Well, that was good. At least I could make some friends, and I couldn’t get into any trouble with Beckett with Julie around.

  “Tim and Alex aren’t a couple, are they?” I asked, realizing that if they were, I would be the odd man out again.

  Beckett laughed a huge raucous laugh at my question. When he got control of himself, he said, “Uh, no. Far from it. It’s not a couples thing – don’t worry. I will warn you that Alex will probably hit on you,
though. He hits on everyone. It’s shameless really.”

  “Okay, consider me warned. I’ll be prepared for that,” I said, laughing.

  In the background, I could hear someone knocking on Beckett’s front door.

  “Oh, I’ve gotta go. Julie’s here,” he said.

  I clenched my jaw at the mention of her name.

  “So I’ll see you at nine?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll be there,” I said, trying to sound cheerful.

  Fourteen

  I stood in front of my closet with my freshly washed hair wrapped in a towel. I suddenly felt like I had nothing to wear. I’d pulled on my favorite skinny jeans, but as far as a top, I was lost. The Beacon Hill Pub was casual, so I didn’t want to look overdressed. I wondered what Julie was going to wear, but then I realized I didn’t care. She and I were not in competition. I grabbed a slouchy white, off-the-shoulder tee, threw on some flip flops and called it an outfit. I was good to go.

  My stomach fluttered a little as the cab neared the Beacon Hill Pub. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious. Beckett had been right. The pub was right down the street from me. It was in an old building at the far end of Charles Street in Beacon Hill. I showed my ID to the guy at the door and walked into pub, scanning the room for Beckett and Julie since they were the only people I would know. I didn’t see them in the front room, so I ventured into the adjacent room where the pool tables were. In the far corner, I saw Julie sitting on a stool watching Beckett and a blond guy playing pool. She didn’t see me walking over to them, and Beckett was engaged in a shot, so he didn’t notice me until I was right beside the pool table.

  “Yes!” he said, as he watched the green striped ball he was aiming for sail into the far pocket.

  “Nice shot,” I said to him, walking around the table.

  “Court!” he said, sounding excited to see me. He walked around to meet me, pulling me into a hug. “I’m glad you came out.”

  “Me too,” I said, glad that I wasn’t sitting at home with my thoughts.

  Beckett pulled away, but his cologne lingered in the air around us. He smelled delicious.

  “Courtney, this is Tim,” he said, gesturing to the tall blond guy who was leaning over the pool table.

  Tim looked up at the sound of his name, smiled and said, “How’s it going?” Then he returned to his shot.

  “And you know Julie,” Beckett said, walking over to her and putting his arm around her waist. I followed him back to where Julie was sitting.

  I smiled at her warmly, and said, “Hi Julie. It’s good to see you again.”

  Her return smile was not as warm or friendly. It was polite and cordial at the most. I wondered if she was having a bad night or if she too was pissed about the Grunge fiasco from the night before. She looked almost smug that Beckett’s arm was around her, so I figured it was the latter. I just settled onto the stool beside her, deciding to ignore her. I was there to have fun, not get into a pissing contest with someone who thought she had a claim on a guy I’d known since I was seventeen.

  “Do you want a beer?” Beckett asked me.

  “Sure,” I said, grinning at him.

  Okay, so maybe I was pissing a little. There was a lot of tension in the air where I was sitting, and not all of it was coming from Julie. I realized that I was trying my hardest not to fixate on Beckett’s arm around her. She was a really beautiful girl which made it so much harder to look at her next to him.

  “Alex,” Beckett yelled over to a short guy with black hair at the bar who turned his head when he heard his name.

  “Yeah?”

  “Get two pitchers of Sam,” he said.

  Alex nodded, turned his attention back to the bartender and made a two sign with his fingers.

  “You’re okay with Sam Adams, right,” Beckett asked.

  “Absolutely,” I said. “He’s a brewer and a patriot – how can you go wrong with that?”

  Beckett laughed. It had been a line we’d always said to each other.

  “Beck, your turn, man,” Tim said from the other side of the pool table.

  Beckett nodded, pulled his arm from around Julie and sauntered back over to the pool table. This left Julie and me alone together. I decided to try to make amends for my behavior from the night before.

  “So, Julie,” I said, and she turned to me skeptically. “Beckett said that you’re an education major with a specialty in English.”

  “That’s right,” she said, coolly.

  “Oh, well, that’s great,” I said, trying to warm up the conversation a little. “I got my master’s in English.”

  She nodded, and then turned back to the pool table to watch the guys play. I figured our conversation was over with that gesture, so I focused my attention on Alex who was returning to the table with our beers.

  “Hey, I know you,” he blurted at me, as he set the pitchers down and un-stacked the glasses he had under his arm.

  He was probably just an inch taller than me and had a pointed nose. He kind of looked like Vinnie from Doogie Houser M.D. I figured he was one of those guys who made up for his looks with his personality. He seemed to be full of energy.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “but I don’t think we’ve met.”

  I started lining up the glasses so he could pour the beer into them.

  “Oh, no, we haven’t met, but I’ve seen pictures. You’re Beck’s hot ex,” he said, and I recoiled slightly at his bold statement. “Man, that boy was a wreck when I met him. He was so in love with you. He talked about you non-stop for months until I finally kicked his ass and told him to get over you.”

  I looked down at the table, a new wave of guilt washing over me. Then I remembered Julie was sitting there and could only imagine how this conversation looked from her perspective. I had a feeling she didn’t know much about why Beckett and I had broken up, and as cold as she was being to me, something in me didn’t want her to know.

  Alex must have noticed my expression change, because he said then, “Oh, don’t worry, he’s good now, but it’s nice to finally meet the girl that did that to him.” He smiled broadly at me.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” I mumbled. “It just happened.”

  “Eh,” Alex said, waving his hand in dismissal. “It’s ancient history.”

  I nodded and reached for one of the pitchers. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Julie glaring at me. Alex’s comments had apparently squelched any chance we had of being cordial. I focused on pouring beers for everyone, as Alex settled into the seat beside me. A second later, he was almost knocked into me when a stocky guy with dark brown hair put him in a headlock from behind.

  “Arghh!” Alex said, as his head and body were pulled backward.

  I looked at him in shock until I realized that the guy behind him was smiling.

  “Aww, man!” Alex said, as he ducked out of the headlock and turned around to see the guy who had assaulted him. “How are you, dude?” He fist-bumped the guy, and then rose to hug the girl behind him.

  They settled into the other chairs at the table, and Alex set to work making introductions.

  “Greg, Ari, this is Julie, the girl Beckett’s seeing,” he said, gesturing to Julie, who immediately changed her hard expression to one that was friendly and warm. She shook hands with both of them.

  “And this,” he continued dramatically. “Is Courtney.” He raised his eyes to Greg, as if trying to telepathically tell him who I was.

  It was somewhat embarrassing to have all of these people know more about me than I knew about them, but more so that they knew the details of the deterioration of my relationship with Beckett.

  “Oh!” Greg said in recognition. “Beckett’s Courtney. Nice to meet you.”

  Julie had to be seething at this point, and I felt genuinely bad for her, especially when Greg stuck his hand out to shake mine. For being the girl who broke their friend’s heart, he and Alex sure didn’t harbor any negative feelings toward me.

  “Hi, I’m A
ri,” said the girl with the blonde highlights to Greg’s right. “Ignore them. We’ve all heard about you for years, so you’re kind of like a celebrity to them.” I nodded, not really sure what else to say. “Beckett was a mess when he met Greg. They were in roommates, so Greg saw how upset he was all the time and heard the stories. We had just started dating at that time, so heard them all too.”

  “So you guys probably hate me,” I reasoned.

  I could only imagine what Beckett had told them about his bitch of an ex-girlfriend.

  “No,” Ari said, shaking her head in confusion. “The opposite actually. He always said really nice things about you. Once and a while he’d slip in some hateful comment but could never hold onto it longer than a few minutes. I could tell he was hurt, but he still loved you.”

  I nodded, trying to process this information. Beckett had still been in love with me nine months after we’d stopped dating. I found myself wondering if those feelings had ever really dissipated for him.

  “It wasn’t until, when babe?” Ari said, turning to Greg. “Halloween? That he finally turned the corner.”

  Greg nodded, and then smirked at Alex. “It was that Brit chick, remember?”

  Alex’s mouth spread into a wide grin. “Yeah, she was hot!”

  “The dining room table girl!” Greg cheered, high-fiving Alex.

  They must have mistaken my uncomfortable feeling with confusion, because Alex suddenly felt the urge to explain. “She was some chick from his high school. We were all at this Halloween party, and she was dressed like Wonder Woman. She was dancing on the dining room table for like an hour. Every guy in the place was trying to get her to go home with him, but she headed straight for Beck. He hadn’t even been paying attention to her, but after a few beers, he certainly was.”

  Alex eyed Greg again, who smiled broadly.

  “So anyway,” Greg said. “She was at our place the next morning.”

  He took a swig of his beer. I took a sip of mine, as I processed what he had said. Beckett had slept with Brit Kennedy. There weren’t any other girls named Brit from our high school who had gone to BC. She was the girl he’d chosen to sleep with after me – unless he’d slept with the girl he’d hooked up the night after we broke up, but I didn’t want to think about that. I glanced over at him, and he smiled back at me. He was oblivious to the conversation that was going on at the table, even though he was only five feet away. I wasn’t sure he’d want to know what his friends were telling me.