by Amanda Cowen
“Yeah, I remember, okay?” I’m breathing hard and blushing furiously. I don’t like how vulnerable this slip-up makes me. I can hardly look at him. “What we did was wrong. Like, really wrong. We were both drunk, clearly desperate, and it was stupid. You’re my best friend, and I’d like to keep it that way. So can we just pretend like last night didn’t happen?”
His phone vibrates loudly from the front pocket of his jeans. He fishes it out and glances down at the number on his screen. I watch his face flush before he dismisses the call and shoves his phone back into his front pocket.
“You can answer it,” I assure him, a tiny edge in my voice. Ryan always answers his phone in my presence, even when I’d prefer he didn’t. I’ve heard so many desperate girls cooing dirty one-liners at him through the speaker than I’d prefer to disclose.
“Nah.” His voice comes out thick before he clears his throat. “It was just Alodie. She asked for my number last night. Looks like she made a point of using it.”
An unfamiliar tight feeling constricts my chest, but I take continuous deep breaths until it slowly dissolves into nothing. “You two seemed to really hit it off last night.”
“She’s alright, I guess.”
I exhale a jagged breath and nod. This weird feeling in my chest is exactly why I’ll never let what happened between us ever happen again.
“Oh, come on,” I playfully shove his bare shoulder. “She’s totally your type…” I blink up to him, eyes wide and focused on nothing but the uncertainty in his as I continue to ramble on. “She has boobs…and of course, a vagina.”
“Very funny.”
“Call her back,” I say as nonchalantly as I possibly can. “I’m going to finish my coffee and probably binge-watch an entire Netflix series. Of course you are welcome to join.” I turn away from him and walk into the living room, flop down on the sofa and turn on the television.
Ryan appears in front of me, his entire body blocking my view of the television. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asks.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be? She’s obviously into you.” I catch a glimpse of the shirt Ryan was wearing last night on the cushion next to me. I swallow hard, grab his shirt, and toss it in his direction. “Now make yourself decent and move out of the way.” He catches his shirt, but doesn’t budge. “Ryan, move. If you don’t mind, I’m trying to select something to watch that will waste my entire day.”
He frowns down at me before he slides his shirt over his head.
“Jesus, Jonesy.” I can hear genuine resentment in his voice as he walks over to the front door.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Home.” He picks his jacket up from the floor and shrugs it on. My heartstrings unexpectedly pull in two different directions. I don’t want him to leave, but deep down I know I need him to leave before we do or say anything else we may regret.
“And by the way, you’re the one who needs to make themselves decent,” he says, examining me from across the room, a hint of irritation in his voice. “Put some pants on. I can see your vagina through those skimpy panties just as clearly as I did last night.”
I’m not sure which of us is blushing more from his omission. I grab the blanket next to me and throw it over my bare legs. “Better?” I ask. I move over on the sofa trying to bring us back to normal, patting a heavy hand on the cushion next to me.
“Nah, I’m not feeling it.” He places his hand on the doorknob. “I’m just glad you had a happy birthday full of bad decisions.”
His emphasis on ‘bad decisions’ – i.e., us rolling around under my sheets – doesn’t go unnoticed. My stomach churns, and I suddenly feel the need to be just as juvenile about our situation as him.
“Fine. Leave.” I quip.
He studies me for a brief and fleeting moment. I swear I see a tiny smirk touches his lips.
“Oh, and don’t forget to tell Alodie I said hello,” I add.
“Don’t worry. I won’t,” he says, pulling the front door open and slamming it behind him.
I’m not sure if being with Ryan was just the beginning or the end to the best friendship I ever had.
Chapter 3
I’m ready to ease into my senior year of college. After spending the entire summer in Yachats with my mom, I’m ready to get back to my friends and my studies.
Junior year wasn’t exactly everything I expected it be. After the events of my twenty-first birthday, I was nervous things would change between me and Ryan. But what I didn’t take into consideration was the strength of our friendship. I mean, it was just one night of meaningless sex. I underestimated our ability to bounce back to normal and move on.
The day after we stupidly slept together, I was relieved when Ryan called and asked me if I wanted to join him for a beer and a game of pool, like we hadn’t just had sex the night before. Of course, I went. I was thankful as ever we could put drunken sex behind us, never talk about it again, and keep our best-friend status.
Even though things hadn’t changed much between me and Ryan, a lot of other things did change, and fairly quickly. For starters, Ryan ended up calling Alodie and she asked him on a date. When he told me she planned a wine tasting for them to attend, I laughed. I also told him the thought of him wearing loafers and acting proper while sipping wine was ridiculous. Ryan didn’t disagree. He admitted he knew it was completely out of character, then he asked me if he should call her back and cancel their date. I told him he should go out with her if that was what he wanted to do, even though he was not by any means a pretentious wine drinker.
One date lead to another. By the end of second semester of junior year, Ryan and Alodie were pretty much couple.
It took me a while to adjust to Alodie sitting next to me on the sofa during Monday Night Football and showing up to my apartment unannounced to hang out when Ryan was at lacrosse practice. Of course, none of our friends knew what happened between us. Our epic mistake was locked tight in a memory vault; the key, thrown away. What happened, happened, and there was nothing we could do to erase what we had done.
It was weird seeing Ryan in a relationship though. Not because we slept together, but because for as long as I’d known him, girls barely made it to a second date. Yet somehow, even though Alodie and Ryan were complete opposites, she managed to keep his attention long enough to be every which way I turned. According to Ryan, their relationship was casual and nothing too serious. But Alodie had a very different outlook. She would tell me he was “the one”, and thanked me for introducing them more times than necessary. I just wanted to stay out of it and hoped Ryan didn’t break her heart anytime soon. The last thing I needed was to lose another female friend over Ryan’s inability to fully commit, especially someone I had no choice but to see every Saturday morning.
A text from Alodie lights up on my phone screen:
Did his plane land yet?
I put my car in Park and text her back:
I just found a parking spot. Relax. His flight lands soon.
She types back a reply right away:
Make sure you tell him to call me as soon as he lands!!!! So excited!!!! xoxoxoxox Thanks for picking him up!!!
Over the summer, Ryan accepted a job on a student-exchange program in Australia. He worked on a farm during the day, and partied at the beach all night. His father wasn’t impressed that he wouldn’t be returning home to Sacramento to work at his law firm, but Ryan insisted he needed to do something different this summer before the pressure of getting into Yale Law School became his entire focus.
I secretly hoped his time overseas meant an easy end to him and Alodie. Not because I had developed feelings for Ryan, but because if things ended organically between them, my life would be a hell of a lot easier. So I was a little shocked when Alodie told me they were going to make it work long-distance. Their relationship was only a few months’ young, and it was almost comical to believe Ryan would stay faithful to one girl for three months while he was surrounded by bikinis on the Gold
Coast. Hell, it was impressive he made it this long in a committed relationship. Then again, who was I to judge?
I finally burst through the doors of the airport, excited to greet Ryan when his plane lands, trying to forget my own pathetic failed summer romance. Jonathan Holland: Deviously charming, hot, and with the added bonus of being a brooding musician in an indie rock band. He had all the makings for a hot and steamy lover. Our time together had been unforgettable, full of toe-curling sex and music festivals where I got to watch my summer fling sing on stage in front of women screaming his name. Except by the end of the summer, the heat began to fizzle and he turned out to be just in love with his adoring fans as they are with him. Then one evening, after his band performed a set on stage, he started making out with a festival groupie right in front of me. He just assumed I’d be into it and hoped for a threesome. Not a chance. Just like that, my summer fling ended.
I wasn’t sure why I was surprised he ended up being a complete douchebag. He had all the warning signs. I think I just ignored them because I knew it would end, anyway. Besides, Jonathan and his band were about to embark on a cross-country tour, and I was going back to San Francisco to finish my senior year.
Ryan didn’t know things were over between me and Jonathan, or as Ryan preferred to call him, ‘Ginger Jon’. Ryan wouldn’t let it go that Jonathan had copper-colored hair, or that he was in a band. Every time we connected, Ryan would ask me how much pocket change Ginger Jon made in tips that week singing on a street corner. God, sometimes Ryan could be such a jerk about the guys I dated.
The airport is uncharacteristically quiet for a Friday night. I watch the fading sunset through the windows. The airport grows quieter with each minute that passes, and I eventually sense his presence as he slides into the empty seat beside me and bumps his shoulder with mine.
“Holy Hipster.” He beams at me, eyes lit with bliss. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a pair of ripped jeans or with such straight long hair covered by a beanie hat.”
“Hey, buddy. Nice to see you too.” I say biting back a laugh. Of course, he noticed I made few personal adjustments over the summer. One of them being I grew my hair past my shoulders to about mid-back and yes, I bought a beanie hat. I also bought two pairs of ripped jeans, which I realize is totally out of character, but Jonathan told me my butt looked fantastic in jeans so I bought them. “Is this your annoying way of telling me how good I look?”
He laughs. “Aw I missed you, Jonesy.” He doesn’t shy away from his proclamation when I look over at him. After a pause filled with strange, mutual inspection, he asks, “Did you pierce your nose, too?”
I nod. “Yes. I did.” When he makes a face, I playfully shove him. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”
“I leave you for one summer and suddenly you’re wearing beanie hats, probably bicycling all over San Francisco, and I bet you’re even putting avocado on everything.”
“Hey. I may be borderline hipster, but you look like a homeless person.” I say abruptly, teasing him right back. “Your skin is brown and leathery from the sun… and seriously, why is your hair so long and stringy?”
“It’s beach hair.”
Laughing, I continue. “You also have the worst beard.”
He looks at my eyes, my cheeks, my lips for a long moment before meeting my eyes again. “Aw, just admit you love my new Zen appearance just as much as I love you as a hipster.”
“Never.”
He grins over at me. “Come on, Jonesy, time to give your best bud a hug.”
He wraps his arms around me and holds me close. He smells like the ocean and peppermint toothpaste. I hug him back and realize how much I missed him, too. I missed his incessant need to tease me, our friendly banter and his warm embrace. It feels like forever since we’ve seen each other, and I don’t want to ever let go. That is, until he impishly starts to rub his beard all over my face. It itches against my skin and I wrestle against him to break free, both of us laughing.
It’s when he pulls away from our hug that I meet the eyes of a guy approaching Ryan with a coffee tray in hand. He is tall, has light blonde hair and bright-blue mischievous eyes, and appears to be a few years older than we are. He has a well-maintained beard framing his full lips. He’s watching us and smiling. He doesn’t look away when our eyes meet. If anything, his smile gets bigger.
He nudges Ryan in the back. “Here, mate. Your coffee.”
Wait… was that an Australian accent? My goodness, this guy is drool-worthy.
Ryan stands to greet him. “Thanks, bud.”
The blonde stranger smiles down at me. “I got one for you, too… Jonesy right?” What he says makes me draw back and look over at Ryan to assess his reaction. “You like two milk, no sugar?”
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
Ryan laughs and drapes his arm around my shoulder. “Jonesy, this is Liam George. We worked together on the farm. He’s going to be crashing with me, Jayce and Kale for a while.”
Oh. Liam continues to watch me with an amused grin.
“Nice to meet you. My actual name is Ella.” I say and take the coffee from him. “Jonesy is what Ryan likes to call me.”
With a smirk, he shakes my hand. “Well, Ella, it’s nice to finally meet you. Ryan has told me a lot about you.”
“Has he now?” I detect a hint of blush on Ryan’s cheeks.
“One thing he neglected to tell me though was how beautiful you are.” Liam winks at me with one of his clear baby blues. “I’m digging your nose ring.”
Ryan shifts his gaze curiously between us.
I place my palm on Liam’s chest. “Aw, that’s so kind of you to say.” He puffs out his chest, clearly enjoying my advances. “And I must say, I do love your beard. So well-maintained.”
“We should probably head over to baggage claim –” Ryan cuts in, muscling his way between me and Liam as he rolls his carry-on behind him. Liam shrugs and we follow Ryan.
“What brings you to San Francisco?” I ask. “College?”
Liam laughs. “No. I graduated a few years back. I have a teaching degree, but I can’t exactly just come to America and start working as a teacher.” He takes a long, slow pull of his coffee. “I was able to secure a work visa and a job tending bar at a place called Hennessey.”
“Oh! I love that place.”
“Yeah, Ryan mentioned you two go there for beer and wings.”
I take a sip of my coffee. “Yup, mostly Fridays. It’s a great place, and the wings are to die for. They also have great live music on the weekends.”
“You’ll have to come visit me some time,” Liam smiles. “I’ll make you one of my signature cocktails.”
Ryan pipes up before I can even respond. “Jonesy doesn’t drink cocktails.”
“I can speak for myself,” I scold him and quickly turn my attention to Liam. “I would love to try one.”
Liam’s smile grows a mile wide.
“You forgot to mention how your boy-toy Ginger Jon is doing.” Ryan tugs one of his suitcases off the carousel and turns to face me. “Did he drop out of his loser band and follow you to San Francisco so he could play songs on street corners to be with you?”
I glare over at Ryan and his shit-eating grin. “Not exactly. I ended things.” I can feel Liam’s eyes on me. “You know how it goes.”
“Another one bites the dust,” Ryan says.
I force away the unreasonably bitchy attitude that flares up from his comment. Liam pretends he isn’t eavesdropping on our conversation as he waits patiently for his luggage to pass by on the carousel.
“By the way, Alodie wants you to call her immediately.”
“Meh, she can wait.” Ryan says nonchalantly. “She waited this long. She can wait a little longer.”
“Wow. You’re such a romantic.”
He laughs at my sarcasm.
“I’ve got all my luggage,” Liam beams over at us. “Shall we go?”
I pull up to Ryan’s apartment building th
irty minutes later. Despite the cool temperature and rain starting to fall, I feel the heat of my blush from watching Liam and his muscles pull his luggage out of the trunk of my car.
“Thanks for the ride, Ella.” Liam says, smiling. “You’ll come by Hennessey for a cocktail sometime, yeah?”
“Sure will.”
Liam gives me a polite nod and pulls his luggage toward the building. Ryan remains in place, leaning against my car. His brows draw together, and he stares down at the sidewalk instead of looking at me. “Thanks for the ride… I’d invite you in, but you know… I should probably help the new roommate settle in.”
“Yeah, no problem,” I say letting out a slow, deep breath. “We can catch up tomorrow. It’s poker night.”
“Right,” he says, his smile immediately making my heart swell. “I’ll text you later, okay?” He leans in and gives me another quick hug. “I really did miss you, Ella.”
“I know,” I smile. “I really did miss you, too.”
Chapter 4
My relationship with my dad is complicated, but I’m not one of those girls with ‘daddy issues’. You won’t find me flirting with the idea of stripping to earn a living because I’m so damaged. I’ve just dealt with a lot of disappointment from him since childhood, and it hasn’t stopped, no matter how old I get. I try not to obsess about how he abandoned me and my mother, or how he cheated on her with her ex-best friend Heidi, or how he thinks my mother is crazy because she suffers from depression. I can’t think about those things and still respect him as a human being, which I why I do my best to not focus on those things. I focus on the positives, like how he helps pay for my tuition and how he takes me out for dinner whenever I return home to Oregon.
