by R. R. Banks
“Yeah.” I look back at her and smile a little. I don’t feel it reach my eyes.
“You just look a little sad.” She looks genuinely upset on my behalf. Damn it, she’s a nice person. She deserved a lot better than what I gave her.
“Listen, Alice.” I run my hand over my face. “Can I be straight with you?”
“Of course.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t a good boyfriend,” I start. “I should have tried harder to actually talk to you.”
Her eyes soften a little bit. “We talked all the time.”
“Not in the way you deserve.” I know I have to cut whatever hope she has at the knee, because I know this sounds way different to her than it does to me. “I think — I mean, I have moved on. I just wanted to apologize, I guess. For just being a little closed off. You’re a great person.”
“Oh.” She deflates a little. “So why did you ask me to come here? Just to apologize? We didn’t really leave on a bad note or anything…”
“I’m not totally sure, if I’m being honest.” I’m digging myself deeper and deeper into the hole.
“Is it that girl you were with?” she asks. “The one you were here with? The pretty one? I’m sorry I lied, but I did see you guys.”
“I know. And I think it might be.” I swallow. “I’m sorry.”
She doesn’t say anything for a bit. She just looks at her hands around her drink, which is sweating condensation onto the table. “That’s… Uh, nice of you, I guess? In a fucked-up way. I thought you were asking me here to get back with me.”
“I know.”
“So is this a weird booty call? Or is this literally it?” An edge of irritation lines her words.
“I just wanted to talk to you.” I shrug, feeling like an idiot. “This was a bad idea.”
“It’s not an awful idea. I’m just really confused.” The irritation’s gone, replaced with the look she probably gives her fuck-up students. I recognize it from my own youth. “Are you okay? You were more open about your feelings in the past five minutes than you were in our whole relationship.”
I snort. “I’m not sure if I’m okay.”
She sits back in her seat, resigned. “Well, if you’re friend-zoning me, can I give you some advice?”
“I guess.”
“That girl, the one you were with. She must be special if she made you realize all of this stuff about what we were.” Alice drains half her drink. “So just go into your relationship with that in mind. Just be open. I’m sure she’ll be accepting.”
“I hope so.” I jiggle my leg under the table, unable to handle my nervous energy anymore. “This is really weird to say, but thanks for being a friend.”
“You’re welcome. And thanks for being honest, even though it kind of sucks.” Alice gives me a gentle smile, and relief washes over me. She’s a damn good person for not flipping over the table onto my lap or slapping me for leading her on. “Oh, someone’s trying to get your attention.”
“Hm?” I follow her eyes. Harrison’s sitting at a table with a few equally scruffy young guys. If I have to guess, they work on farms around here. Harrison looks angry, as usual, but tired. I wave at him, and he comes over.
“Hey,” he calls over, trying to smile a little. It’s weird on his face, like he’s not used to doing it. “Mind if I sit? I don’t want to interrupt your date for too long, but it’s important.”
“It’s not a date, so you’re fine,” Alice says, matter of fact. “Let me get us another round.”
She gets up and goes to the bar, leaving the uncomfortable air Harrison carries around me.
“What’s up?” I ask. I wish I had my new beer now. I have no idea what to do with my hands.
“That couple, the elderly ones? They sold some of their land to Edgar.” Harrison sounds defeated.
“Shit, that’s a bummer,” I reply.
“It’s more than a bummer.” He looks up at me, his eyes blazing. “He ripped them the fuck off, the piece of shit. He bought it for under market value in exchange for giving them a timeshare when the resort is ready.”
“Oof.” I sigh. “For free?”
“Not even. Just at a discount for the rest of their lives.” Harrison’s fist clenches on the table. “And their property includes all that forest. Edgar’s going to take down a solid chunk of those trees, and all those animals will be pushed into town.”
“I nearly hit a deer a couple weeks back. It’ll only get worse the more land is taken over.” I run my hands through my hair. That incident scared the shit out of me, and I only survived unscathed because I’m a decent driver. A lot of the people in the town aren’t.
“Edgar’s a piece of shit,” Harrison spits. “He’s hardly worth existence.”
“Whoa now,” I say, because that fucking escalated. “He’s just slimy. Maybe we can figure something out with the couple to help them out. I don’t know with what, but it’s worth a shot.”
Harrison nods slowly, realizing he took it way crazy. “We need to stop their sale from making everyone else sell.”
“Right.” I nod along with him. “We can talk to them.”
“Talk. Yes.” His fists on the table slowly relax.
I suddenly feel wildly uncomfortable. I don’t want to be there. I’m just as committed to the town not being sold off to someone who’ll exploit everyone in the county and destroy the landscape. But I don’t want Edgar to get hurt. Harrison doesn’t seem to feel the same way. I look him over, noticing his threadbare shirt and old watch. I get being principled, but it seems like he needs the money. What else is keeping him in this battle?
Chapter Nine
Simone
I can’t believe I’m excited to be back in Grand Central Station. Sure, it’s beautiful and all, but the chaos inside plus midtown Manhattan outside makes it stressful. I’m just glad to be back in the city, surrounded by bustling activity. So different from Gray’s Point.
I feel anonymous again in the crowd of tourists and commuters. It feels like a reverse break. I need something to shake me up. I didn’t drive all the way down, since the very thought exhausts me, so I drove to the nearest train station and took it down.
I adjust my weekend bag on my shoulder and glance over my shoulder at my rolling bag to make sure it’s still in one piece. I’m only going to be here for two nights, but everything is heavy. I’ve got my party clothes and makeup for Gigi’s birthday tonight, and some samples of the collection I’ve been working on for Katya. I’m meeting with her on Monday to give her an update on the collection before I head back up to Gray’s Point.
I grab a cab outside and give him the address for my Airbnb, which hopefully hasn’t collapsed or exploded. It’s in Brooklyn, not too far from Katya’s offices in Manhattan or the bar where Gigi’s having her party. And Max hardly ever goes into Brooklyn on a regular basis, which is another reason why I chose this place. Or at least I hope he hasn’t suddenly decided to go there often.
The ride from Grand Central to my apartment for the weekend is long with the evening traffic, long enough for me to feel uncomfortable with my own thoughts. I scroll through Instagram instead, checking out what my friends are up to. I’ve missed everyone. It looks like things are pretty normal — parties, vacations, pets, some babies. Gigi’s already posted about her boyfriend, Jack, bringing her breakfast in bed. They’re adorable and perfect together, so perfect that they haven’t murdered each other despite living in a tiny studio apartment for years. I can’t imagine having next to no privacy, even if I was in love with someone.
The cab driver pulls up and stops in front of a lovely apartment building in Brooklyn Heights. I have a whole apartment to myself for the next few days. Thankfully it looks like the pictures. It’s a one bedroom, with a nice bathroom and a view of a tiny backyard. I hang up my clothing samples and leave my weekend bag open in the corner of the bedroom. Gigi is coming in while to pre-game and get dressed up, so I don’t get too cozy. I text her that I’m in, and she says she’ll be right over.
I open up the kitchen cabinets to see what I can use to mix drinks and find a cocktail shaker. There are some lemons and limes set out on the counter too. Perfect. I pull up Spotify so Gigi can find something that fits the party vibe she’s going for. Our music tastes are very different for the most part, but I have to admit that her party playlists are always the best. I turn on some Fleetwood Mac in the meantime.
A buzz rings through the apartment twenty minutes later and I press the intercom. It’s Gigi. A few moments later, she’s at the door, a big-ass bag on her shoulder.
“Simone! I’ve missed you so much. It’s so good to see your actual face in person!” She flings herself at me, all long and slender limbs. She gives good hugs and I feel better right away. The familiarity of her perfume makes me warm inside, too.
“Happy birthday!” I step back to let her in. “I missed you, too.”
“Are you pumped to party?” She puts her bag down on the coffee table in the middle of the room and opens it. “I’ve got all of my makeup stuff, plus some gin and tonic water if you want something to get us going.”
“Perfect. I’ve brought some outfits. I’m not sure what to wear.” I go into the bedroom and lay out three options I brought. I’ve spent most of my days in leggings and sweaters, or stretchy jeans and T-shirts for the past two months. My going out outfits, all body-hugging dresses and blouses with deep, deep necklines, look foreign to me now. Will they even fit? I’m a little softer, but hopefully not by much.
“Let’s start with makeup, since I want to have you in one place to interrogate you. Tell me all of the things you haven’t told me already.” She grins, making her dimples pop.
“You know I’ve told you basically everything, especially about work.” I tug a bar stool over to the big floor to ceiling window. Gigi’s been looking at some of my pieces as I’ve worked on them, giving solid feedback from a consumer standpoint. “Does the window have nice enough light?”
“Mm, I think so, yeah.” She puts her makeup kit down on the coffee table. It’s huge, and I know it’s not everything she has. Between her job at a makeup company and her hobby of trying every new product out there, she has enough stuff to give a whole fleet of models a makeover. “Let me get the vibes and drinks going before I start touching your skin.”
I sit down and watch her flutter around the room like a modern fairy with her halo of big curly hair, like I have time and time again over my life. After high school, we went to the same college and were roommates from sophomore year and on. She puts on some music that I haven’t heard before and mixes us some gin and tonics. She hands me one and clinks her glass against mine. Once we’ve both had a few sips, she starts in on my face.
“You look so damn rested.” She takes my chin in her hand and tilts my head from side to side. “Do I need to get up into the mountains to rejuvenate?”
I snort. “I mean, maybe. It’s really nice and calm up there. The air is clean, which is probably half of it.”
“I need some calm.” She sighs and grabs a cotton round. “I swear, I’d rather wrestle a greased-up pig for a whole day than find a new apartment.”
“No luck?”
“Nope. We want to find a place that’s in between our two offices that also has two bedrooms.” She squirts some liquid onto the round a little aggressively. “This studio apartment shit has outworn its welcome.”
“I knew you two weren’t that chill.” I snicker. “You guys have been living together in that tiny space for way too long.”
“God, I know. At least we have more money now, so the search is a little broader.” She swipes the cotton round over my face and looks surprised when it comes back clean. “No makeup?”
“Too lazy.” I shrug, sipping my drink. I need to take it slow. Then again, there’s no one here for me to throw myself at vagina-first, so maybe I’ll be fine. “I ran out of tinted moisturizer up there and haven’t bothered to order any more.”
“Mm.” She rummages through her case and pulls out something. “I think this might work for you. I haven’t tried the brand yet, but my coworker said it was good. It’s a little too dark for me anyway.”
I take the bottle and examine it. It looks like it could work for my skin, but I already have a regular moisturizer. I spend so much time inside now that I’m not sure if I’ll use it. At least it’s free.
“How’s it going with Jay?” she asks.
I wonder if my face is going red or not. I can hardly think of Jay without a total maelstrom of feelings overwhelming me. Mostly, it is guilt, mixed with feeling like an emotionally stunted moron. I shouldn’t have just left him with that bullshit excuse about having to work the morning after, especially since it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. I know that if I’d stayed there, we’d have spent the whole day fucking and eating cold pizza. That sounds amazing, right? Except that would only make me fall for him harder.
I take a moment to pound half of my drink. I know I’m just scared of all of this, but I don’t know why it’s making me act like a total ass. He told me to my face that he won’t judge me. Why can’t I just unclench? I’m not going to die if I do. I mean, probably. The last time I opened up was to Max, and he just nodded and said he was sorry. Then he went bonkers, and now I’m on edge whenever I step outside, so look how that turned out. Now it’s been too long for me to just casually roll up to Jay’s house and say something like, “Sorry I can’t just relax and fuck all day! Hope you don’t hate my guts!”
“They’re going,” I say. It’s not a lie. Time’s moving forward.
“You sure about that?” Gigi asks, her voice low under the sound of someone leaning hard on their horn outside. She puts drops of something on my skin, then starts pressing it in with a little damp sponge.
“I’m sure. I’m just not really talking to him.” I wish we had snacks so I could shove them into my mouth right about now.
“Simone.” Gigi’s brown eyes narrow. “Come on, now.”
“I know…” I groan.
“Talk to him!” She pulls the makeup sponge away from my face. “You can’t ghost a guy when you share a bathroom with him.”
“I didn’t ghost him! I just told him I had work to do —” I hold up my hand to stop Gigi from interjecting. “And that’s entirely true. I’m meeting with Katya soon. I’ve been locked away in my little cabin for days.”
“You’re full of shit.” She rummages around her bag and comes out with two tubes of cream blush. “You have to tell him how you feel.”
“I don’t know how I feel. I like him a lot, and the sex was fantastic, but I know that I’m a mess after breaking up with Max.” I eye the two shades she’s put on the back of her hand. Together they make a perfect shade of pink.
“Hun, just tell him exactly what you just said to me,” she says, dotting the blush along my cheek. “I know I haven’t spoken to him since he moved, but it seems like he’s a good guy. He was a good boyfriend back in the day too, even if he was an anti-social dick to basically everyone outside of our circle. He was nuts about you.”
“He has a criminal record,” I point out. “My parents hated him back in the day when he didn’t.”
“Excuses. You don’t have to marry the guy to tell him how you feel. And from my extensive creeping on the internet, his last offense was almost ten years ago. I had to dig deep to find that, since he’s not on social media at all, so it wasn’t a newsworthy situation.” She steps back and studies my face. “Not that it’s a good thing. Also, your parents would hate anyone who wasn’t clean cut as hell.”
“Okay, true. But I can’t, G.” I know I’m whining, but I can’t stop myself. “I’m still not sure if I’m in the clear from Max’s craziness. I can’t dump that baggage on Jay.”
“Fine. But I think you should at least tell him that it’s because of your baggage.”
“I can do that,” I say with a sigh.
“Good,” she says with a sigh that echoes my own. She knows me well enough to understand I’m done with
the conversation. “Anyway, how’s everything else? How’s that girl you’re tutoring?”
I finally let go of the tension talking about Jay brought into my shoulders. “Maya’s great. I’m teaching her about French seams and she’s tackling them well. We’re even doing a faux Project Runway thing where I give her challenges and she makes something.”
“That’s sweet.” Gigi smiles and whips out some brow gel.
“Yeah, we’re having fun. She makes me feel old as hell sometimes. I had to explain that Victoria Beckham was Posh Spice. She hardly knew who the Spice Girls were.”
“You’re kidding.” She steps back, looking as horrified as I was when she told me. “I truly can’t believe that.”
“I’m not joking. I nearly keeled over.”
“She’s like the kid sister you’ve always wanted,” Gigi chuckles.
“Yeah. I mean, maybe not sister level yet, but I’m glad we met.” I feel warm inside again. Maya’s so pure, for lack of a better term. The world hasn’t kicked her ass yet, and she’s excited about most things. She’s nervous about her future — she graduated early, but wasn’t sure about college — but who isn’t at that age?
“Perfect.” Gigi steps back to admire her handiwork, and I look at myself in the mirror. “You look hot, Simone.”
I do look pretty good, not to toot my own horn or anything. But I look foreign to myself. Gigi’s great at makeup that doesn’t overwhelm a person’s features, so it’s not that. She kept it natural — no intense contour or anything like that — with a bright red-orange lip and a slightly winged eyeliner. Nothing crazy. I guess I’m just not used to seeing myself all cleaned up anymore.
I pick an outfit and get dressed while Gigi puts the finishing touches on her own makeup. It’s one of the super low-cut blouses in a deep green that looks nice against my skin, plus tight, faux-leather leggings that are hopefully just breathable enough for me to not sweat to death. I slip on my simple black heels that I wear with basically everything. As the final touch, Gigi slicks my hair back into a high ponytail. I call us a cab and we head off to the bar. I’m feeling nice and buzzed already, so the ride over is fun. At least for me and Gigi.