East Coast Girls (ARC)
Page 27
ent but matching conversations. “Maybe just yourself. That
you’ll be okay no matter what other people do.”
The thought was a comfort. Renee was a comfort. Like
returning to an old beloved book, remembering its solace,
its happy if complicated ending, the way it spoke to some-
thing true. She hated it. She should be strong enough to re-
sist Renee’s pull. But she didn’t have the will right now. For a moment she even wanted to confess the whole truth, that
she hadn’t been on any other dates, never had sex, that Jack
was the last boy she’d kissed. She longed for Renee’s advice.
Or at least for the safety net of love she’d once had with her.
But all that did was remind her—to be known and loved
and then left as Renee had done to her. It was so gutting—
speared a person in all their old wounds, unearthed that primal internal wail that sometimes lived in deep silences. Why don’t you love me? How could you do this? You had to drown out the noise of it with so much stuff, cell phones and social media and TV and movies and music and work and still it came lurching up when you least expected, when you were just trying
to have a relaxing weekend or a quiet moment on the subway.
How could she risk her heart again? With Jack? With any-
one?
The cab pulled up in front of the restaurant.
The nervous pit in Blue’s stomach grew.
“Ready?” Renee said.
“Yep,” Blue said but did not move.
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They sat.
“This is where you wanted to go, right?” the cab driver
asked.
“She’s nervous. It’s a date.”
“I’m not nervous,” Blue said.
The cab driver hooked his arm around the back of his seat,
turned to her. “You want my advice?”
“No thanks.”
“The thing I learned after four marriages,” he said, “is it either works or it doesn’t. There are people in life who get you and people who don’t. You can’t make someone be in your
‘psychic clan’—I trademarked that, by the way—who’s not in
your psychic clan. So if he doesn’t like you, not in your PC.
On the flip side, if he is in your PC, there’s not a whole lot you can do to screw it up.”
“Good stuff,” Blue said, though her dread was so loud in
her head she could barely hear herself.
“Thanks,” he said proudly. “I wrote a book on it. You can
buy it off my website…hold on…let me give you my card.
There’s a discount code on the back.”
Renee hustled her out of the cab. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Blue handed the driver a wad of cash through the front
window, and she and Renee headed toward the Surf Lodge.
Her heart was hammering, blood roaring in her ears. She was
swept off in it, half-blinded by it, everything rushing at her in a loud blur. She’d imagined a night like this so many times.
Long before she’d even heard from Jack again. For twelve years it had lived in her as a hope that someday they would find
each other, that she would bump into him on a street corner
in Manhattan, or at the wedding of one of her summer friends
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or somewhere truly unexpected, like an African safari. And
now here she was. And here he would be.
She followed Renee inside, an embarrassing sweat break-
ing out on her forehead and the back of her legs. She thought of her apartment back in NYC. She thought of the size of her
bank account. She tried to stand on these things like an is-
land, but they were thin ice, unable to bear her weight. It was terrifying how easy it was to lose herself, to summon everything she knew when she was alone and find it too slippery
to hold in the face of other people, becoming only the thing
that they valued or didn’t.
Renee led the way through the crowd. The light was soft,
strung like a mimic of stars, the room crowded with the chat-
ter of guests and the chime of silverware, the salty air off the bay reaching through the open doors. Everyone was in their
Hamptons whites, girls with sweaters tied over their delicate shoulders, bleached teeth laughing against tan, taut faces.
Blue was being assaulted by her own inadequacy. She was
lumbering and odd looking, a spectacle here. Each person
she passed looked through her on their way to talk to some-
one who mattered. Renee, on the other hand, looked like she
completely belonged.
Why was she doing this to herself? It wasn’t worth it.
She gave a cursory glance around the room. “Doesn’t look
like he’s here,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Renee grabbed her arm. “He’s right over there. Look.”
Jack was waving at them from a table. Blue’s heart backfired
and her legs were suddenly loose and unreliable. She waved
back and tried to smile but her mouth spasmed and she imag-
ined she must look insane.
I can’t do this. I don’t know how to do this.
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Her head seemed to be filling with water, distorting light
and sound.
She started toward the patio for a cigarette. Reached into
her purse for the pack. It was empty. Of course.
She rerouted to the bar.
“Where are you going?” Renee said, tripping after her.
“I need a drink.” And a minute to calm the hell down.
Blue glanced back at Jack. He was talking to his friend,
making him laugh, looking like every other person in the
place, perfect and good-looking and at ease. She was so ridiculously in over her head. She could barely even manage small
talk, no less be cool or coy or charming. What on earth would she have to offer someone like him? Nothing, that’s what. It
made her want to cry. Foolish, stupid girl. She waved a large bill at the bartender to get his attention. He ignored her and served two beautiful women at the other end of the bar.
“I don’t think you should have another,” Renee said. “You
need to be lucid.”
“I’m unbearably lucid,” Blue said.
Finally the bartender came over.
“A shot of gin and tonic. And a tequila. Please.”
“You mean a shot of tequila and a gin and tonic?” he said,
taking the cash.
“Sure, whatever.”
Renee hid her eyes.
Two glasses were set in front of Blue. She turned her back
to Jack’s table and gulped down the shot. She grabbed the gin and tonic, downed that too. The booze seemed to rocket into
her brain almost instantly. “Better,” she said.
They weaved their way through the crowd.
Jack saw them coming and stood. Up close, in the dim ro-
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mantic lighting, he looked doubly handsome and intimidat-
ing, immediately robbing her of all her liquid courage. “You
came!” he said.
“Heyyy,” Blue said. She was trying to sound cool, but she
was st
ruggling to modulate her voice over the blood-rush of
adrenaline in her ears. “What’s happenin’?”
He put his hand up and Blue appallingly found herself
throwing him a high five before she realized he was just wav-
ing to Renee behind her. He paused, puzzled, then met Blue’s
hand with his and held it rather than slapped it.
“You look different without the hat and the glasses and
the…morning ice cream bar, ha ha,” he said.
She was sure she saw a shadow cross his face as he observed
the sad reality of her.
He thinks I’m ugly, she thought, and the awful notion drifted down into the depths of her and lodged itself there. I should leave. Walk out with my dignity intact. Already she hated him.
Already she hated herself.
“Hey, again,” Renee said, holding her arms out for a hug.
“Hey,” Jack said, pulling her in. “You came after all.”
Blue watched, burning. “She’s engaged,” she said. It just
fell out. Because of course he would want Renee and not her.
Wasn’t that always how it went? Two beautiful people. They
looked like they belonged together.
“No way! Tonight? Where’s the lucky guy?”
“No, not tonight…ah…” Renee looked askance at Blue.
“Well, congratulations. This is my friend Peter.” Jack ges-
tured to the shy-looking guy beside him wearing a crisp white shirt and a clear desire to be elsewhere. “Peter, this is Renee and Blue.”
“Howdy,” Peter said, and Blue considered he was the male
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version of herself. In fact, Jack probably brought him to match them up. Oh God, seriously though, he probably did.
They sat. Blue was so nervous she misjudged the distance,
landing heavily in her chair. She couldn’t bear to look at Jack, to catch any hint of disappointment in his face. She decided
she was still too sober, tried, to no avail, to get the attention of a passing waitress. When she turned back to the table, Jack had said something that made Renee laugh.
“So what do you do, Peter?” Blue said, angling away from
Jack. If he was going to fall in love with Renee, then she was going to ignore him and flirt with his sour-looking friend
and pretend she was having a blast.
“Real estate,” Peter said, glancing around the room.
“Commercial or private?”
“Private.”
“I would have guessed commercial.”
He looked at her strangely. “No. Nope.”
“Nice. Well. I love real estate. I have a great apartment,
a large penthouse, actually. Across from Central Park.” She
heard herself talking loudly, trying to sound important, but
she couldn’t stop the train. She snuck a furtive look at Jack.
He was showing Renee something on his phone. Hello. Did
he not see the massive ring? She plowed on. “And I work in finance. Many real estate deals. Big money deals.” Jesus Christ.
“Oh.” He shifted uncomfortably. “So, uh, how do you and
Jack know each other?”
Jack turned, tuned in. His eyes met and locked on Blue’s.
“That’s a good question, actually,” Jack said. “Where did
we meet? Ice cream shop, wasn’t it?”
Blue stiffened. “Actually, the beach first.”
“We did?” Jack said. “The beach. Really? Oh, wait, that’s right!
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Didn’t my buddy almost hit you with a Frisbee?” Jack threw his head back and laughed. “Wow, I totally forgot about that.”
Blue looked away, the memory shifting inside her. It had
been so important to her—that moment when the Frisbee
almost hit her and Jack had rushed to the rescue, called her
pretty. She’d put a frame around the memory, kept it near.
All this time she’d believed he felt what she felt. That instant, blush-inducing connection. That pull in the chest. That wonder. But it was all in her head. It meant nothing to him—
she meant nothing to him—he didn’t even remember it. She probably hadn’t even been a real person to him, just another
conquest in a long summer of them, a way to pass the time.
“Fortunately for me, I was still able to win her over with
my charm,” Jack said. He leaned back and smiled at her.
She did not smile back. “Hardly.”
“Oh, come on.” He tilted his head, searched her face. Then
he turned to Peter. “It was love at first sight.”
Wait. Did he like her? Was she reading this all wrong?
No, he was just mocking her. She was sure of it.
“Please. It was a meaningless summer fling,” she said. She
wasn’t going to let him get over on her again. She wasn’t going to let him see all the stupid hope she had.
“Okay, if you say so.” He was still smiling, though his pu-
pils darted uncertainly as he watched her.
Blue felt a kick under the table.
“You wore his sweatshirt for weeks!” Renee said, staring
hard at her.
“No, I didn’t!” Blue snapped. She tried to kick her back and
accidentally moved the table, knocking over Renee’s water glass.
Everyone lurched back in their chairs.
“Sorry! Sorry,” she said, hearing the slur move into her voice.
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“I’m not drunk, I swear.” She grabbed a bunch of napkins and
squashed them against the spill. “It’s just water, people. Chill!”
Jack stood, grabbed some more napkins from a nearby table.
Their hands touched, a flash of electricity as he helped her
mop up. She pulled away as if stung. “I’ve got it,” she said.
She dabbed at the spill and then sat back down into an un-
comfortable silence. They were all looking at her. A remain-
ing trickle of water dripped into her lap.
“We should get you a real drink anyway,” Jack said to
Renee. He put his hand on her forearm and Blue felt the knife twist in her gut.
“Oh, no thanks,” she said. “I’m okay.”
“Why don’t you tell them why, Renee,” Blue said.
Renee shot her a wounded look, shook her head no.
“She’s with child,” Blue said, happy to deliver the killing
blow to Jack and Renee’s bourgeoning romance. “Her nipples
are brown. That’s how you know apparently. Crazy, right?
Have you ever thought about having kids, Peter?”
She saw all three of their mouths fly open in shock.
“Ah…excuse me. I’m going to…get a drink at the bar,”
Peter said before nearly hurdling over her to escape.
“Well, uh, congratulations,” Jack said to Renee. He tapped
his thumbs on the table, glanced nervously around the club.
Renee gave him a tight smile, stared into her lap.
The uncomfortable silence expanded.
“Blue!” someone shouted, and they all turned to see Maya
and Hannah heading their way, big grins on their faces.
Blue was at once relieved for the interruption and horrified
to have more witnesses to this disaster.
“We’re crashing your date,” Maya said.
“You m
ean Renee’s date,” Blue said.
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“What?” Maya said. Their smiles fell as they reached the
table and caught the vibe. They stopped, stood awkwardly,
eyes darting in search of explanation.
“Sit,” Blue said. “Have a drink. I’ve offended everyone else.
Might as well join the fun.”
Maya and Hannah exchanged looks, then pulled up two
seats and sat down warily.
Jack glanced at his watch, took a sip of his beer, smiled
grimly at no one in particular.
To Renee, Maya mouthed, “What is happening?”
Renee made a drinking gesture, tilted her head toward Blue.
“I caught that,” Blue said.
Suddenly Renee’s eyes bulged. “Excuse me.” Her hand
flew to her mouth as she got up and ran across the restaurant.
Maya watched her. “Is she drunk too?”
“Pregnant,” Blue said. “Drunk is how you get that way.”
“Pregnant? ” Hannah said. She looked at Maya.
Maya looked at Blue. “For real?”
Blue shrugged, “Apparently.”
“Oh, wow,” Hannah said.
“Hell yes!” Maya said. “We’re having a baby! This is such
an excellent shit show of a vacation. I love it.”
“Yep, so great,” Blue said bitterly, throwing a half-hearted
fist into the air. “So glad I came.”
Maya shot her a questioning look, Hannah a worried one.
Jack shifted uncomfortably, kept taking nervous, furtive
glances at Blue.
“So how’s it going, Jack?” Maya said.
“Good,” he said. “Yeah, really good.”
“Cool.”
They both nodded at each other for several beats too long.
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He glanced at Blue again, as if trying to catch her eye. She
ignored him.
He watched her for one more moment and then cleared his
throat. “Well… I should be going,” he said, inching out of
his seat. “Pete and I have…ah…a thing we’re supposed to…”
“A thing,” Blue said.
“Yeah…uh…”
“You can’t go,” Maya said. “We just got here.”
“No, Maya,” Blue said. “They have a thing to get to.”
“Blue,” Jack said, “can I talk to you alone for a—”
“No, you don’t want to be late for your thing,” Blue said.