What is she doing here?
Why now?
What the fuck?
I wasted a good five in front of the mirror. Another five was spent getting dressed and attempting to call Tenley. I wanted her by my side when I faced Chanel.
Her phone went straight to voicemail. Hey, you’ve reached Tenley’s phone. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back. The longest beep in the world followed.
I ran my fingers through my damp hair and started pacing. “It’s me. I know I said six, but do you think you could come over early? Now. Because Chanel just showed up, and I’m not sure why. For some odd reason, I let her in. But not for that reason.” Jesus, I was messing this up. “I was just surprised, and I haven’t even said hello to her. I basically commanded her like a dog to stay. So will you come over so I can get her out of here? Okay. I love you.” The words slipped out. I stood frozen with the phone in my hand for ten seconds until I decided I didn’t care. “See you soon.”
I ended the call. While I made the trek down the hall, I was hoping Tenley was listening to the message and would be here any second.
When I stepped into the main living area of my apartment, there stood Chanel. In her hands was a glass of wine poured from the bottle I had chilling on the table.
“What are you doing?” I asked sharply. I could feel the heat rising up my body because what the actual fuck?
She spun to face me in her heels. “You didn’t have to go through all this for me.”
My anger turned to laughter. Through the tears in my eyes, I choked out, “Believe me. I didn’t.”
“But I thought…” She looked at the table, then toward the kitchen.
“Chanel. Why would this be for you? I thought you were in Paris.”
“You didn’t get my message?”
I looked at my phone, and there it was. Most likely sent when I was in the shower. A message from Chanel saying she was coming over.
“I did now.”
“I assumed… so this is for someone else?” The glass she was holding was now sitting on my breakfast bar. Empty.
“Yes. My girlfriend, who should be here any minute.” I looked at the time. Either way, Tenley would be here in fifteen minutes.
“It’s true then.” A look of hurt flashed across her face. It was only for the briefest of seconds, then it quickly changed to anger.
“What?” I knew what she was going to say next. I knew when Brinley showed up at Keaton’s birthday, the game of telephone would start. Gossip was her best friend first, Chanel second.
“You and Tenley.” Her perfectly sparkly pink-painted lips moved from a straight line to curling as her nose scrunched. I never realized how much Chanel truly disliked Tenley, or I chose not to see it. In the end, it wouldn’t have mattered. If she had ever given me an ultimatum, Tenley would have won every time. Maybe thinking that should have told me something years ago.
“Yes,” I stated.
“I knew it. I knew all along she had a thing for you. She was always jealous of how I looked and that you wanted me over her. She hated me, and now I know why. She wants what I have.”
“Had,” I pointed out. Though I know Chanel couldn’t hold a candle to Tenley in the looks department, I ignored the first part of her statement. Chanel was trying to get a reaction from me. It was a tactic she used often.
She took two steps forward, then froze. “Wait, how long has this been going on?”
I didn’t answer her accusation at first. The dating goggles I wore all those years we dated were finally removed, showing me Chanel’s true colors. She was a bitter, vindictive, and flat-out cruel person. I just hadn’t realized it, being blinded by love. Or what I thought was love. It wasn’t. I didn’t know the real meaning of the word until Tenley. And it was none of Chanel’s business who I dated after her or how I felt about them. At the same time, I felt the need to defend my girlfriend’s honor. She would never cheat with or on someone. She was a good person with a heart, unlike the one standing in front of me who couldn't care less about anyone’s feelings, including her boyfriend’s at the time.
“Don’t worry, Chanel. I pursued Tenley and not the other way around. And it was well after your list,” I spit out. “You know, the one where you said I was the worst boyfriend, terrible in bed, and a whole slew of other things.”
Her head lowered. “I didn’t mean it,” she said.
“Doesn’t matter. I found someone who loves all those parts of me that you hated.”
“I never hated you.”
I rolled my eyes, then I looked at the clock on my microwave. Tenley didn’t come early. In fact, she was late. I glanced down at my phone, which was still in my hand, hoping for a message. Nothing.
“I mean it, Pressy.”
I winced at the nickname. I hated it back then and hated it even more so now. “It doesn’t matter. What do you want? Why did you come? I thought you were all happy in Paris with your new boyfriend?”
She let out a big sigh. “I was there for a week and came home. It was awful. Everyone hated me because I couldn’t understand them. French is not easy. And my boyfriend and I broke up because of you.”
Because of me. How did I break them up when I was in another country?
“He said I was constantly comparing the two of you, but I didn’t. It doesn’t matter. He’s in Paris, and I’m here. Then I heard you were with Tenley, and I had to know why.”
“Why?” I clench my fists.
“Why her? You always said you two were just friends. We have a little fight, and you run to her. To her bed.”
For a second, I think I entered the Twilight Zone. “A little fight?”
“Yeah.”
“A little fight?” I ask again.
“Yes, Pressy.”
“You know what? Never mind. I’m not getting into this. If you don’t think what you said was messed up, you never will.”
I walk over to the door.
“She came by.” My hand froze on the handle.
“Who?” I didn’t need to ask. I already knew the answer. She was twelve minutes late, hadn’t returned my call, and fucking hell what did Chanel do.
“Tenley. She came by, then left. Not much of a talker that one.”
Jesus Christ. I dialed her number the same time I opened the door. “Go. Now.”
“Pressy.”
The phone went straight to voicemail. “Leave,” I said more forcefully.
“But we were so good together.”
I was done before, but now that I knew she said something to make Tenley disappear, I didn’t care if I ever saw her again. “Chanel, I’m only going to say this once. It’s over. We’re over. So before this gets ugly, I need you to leave.”
“Are you going to look for her?” Once again, her face pinched as if she’d just sucked on a lemon.
“Not that it’s your business, but yes.”
“Why her? Why not me?” she asked. At least she walked outside my door.
“Because she’s my goddamn world.” And you just fucked it up. Again. I grabbed my keys, locked my apartment, and ran down the hall. I took the stairs, knowing there was no way Chanel would stoop so low. I had to find her, but I had no clue where to start.
25
Tenley
Leave your exes where they should be… in the past.
MY LIFE WAS always a perfect balance. With the good always came a healthy dose of reality. Sometimes, that bitch liked to roll up her sleeves and say, take that. Today was my reality day. Life was going to pay me back for four months of being in a blissful haze.
The first slap came in the form of spoiled creamer in my coffee and me drinking said coffee even though I saw the way it was separated in the cup. Dumb. The aftereffects had me in the bathroom for thirty minutes gagging, which made me late for work. And when I was late, my whole day was off.
In my effort to make it into the bathroom, I knocked over said coffee, and it spilled on my phone. Holding my breath, I wiped it clean of the thick c
reamer. The cleaning and praying made me run even later and caused unknown damage to my phone. Throughout the day, my phone slowly started shutting down. The sound for my music was the first to go. The music I needed for my classes.
Not one but two people messaged me we need to talk in the span of an hour. And we all know those words never lead to anything good.
I didn’t have to wait long before my boss showed up to tell me about her have to talk message. Her husband’s job was transferring him to California in a month. Soon, I would be out of a job. A friend of my boss was already interested in the space. She stated so multiple times. For a dance studio. Not somewhere she was going to offer yoga classes where maybe I could sneak in to teach a class. Ballet, tap, jazz, contemporary. Nothing I knew anything about. I couldn’t even call or text Preston to ask what his message was about or to tell him about my job because after my meeting ending, my phone was officially toasted.
Did I mention our internet went out at work too? So not only didn’t I have a cell phone, we had no Wi-Fi, computers, or phone system. Not that my bookkeeping mattered anymore.
Then my lunch order was wrong. Not a big deal, but when you are allergic to nuts, which I was highly so, and you get a salad with chicken and cashews instead of chicken and soybean, things could have turned very anaphylaxis… fast. I kept it together, though, and Kaitlin was kind enough to switch her salad with mine since she wasn’t in danger of stopping breathing.
It was when I arrived at my apartment and my door decided it was going to add to my hellish day that I’d had enough. Reality won this round. All I wanted to do was go home after my boss said not to worry about the paperwork for the day and sink in my tub. I was more than ready for two hours of alone time to sort out what I would do if I lost my job before facing the next we need to talk. But my key wouldn’t turn. It happened from time to time. I kept forgetting to mention it to my landlord because the next day it would be fine.
Preston always managed to make the key work with some spray and elbow grease, so I knocked on his door. Chanel answering wasn’t what I expected. Or needed.
I stood there, blinking. My mind had to be playing tricks on me. The Florida heat clearly was making me see a mirage because she was supposed to be in Paris. Not in my boyfriend's apartment. Not standing in there all blonde and perfectly petite with her tight sundress that showcased her size two figure. Mentally, I raised my middle finger to reality for this last poke.
“Tenley, I missed you,” she lied as she air kissed me on both cheeks as if we were great friends. We weren’t. We never were. Any chance of a friendship ended between us the day she and her group of friends tried to warn me away from her Preston when they first started dating.
“Channel,” I mocked. “Is Preston around?” I knew he was. His car was parked in his designated spot. Right next to mine.
“He just got out of the shower and is getting dressed.” She opened the door wider. “Do you want to come in and wait? We were about to have dinner and talk about, you know, things.”
I almost took a step inside and called Chanel on her bull. But from the opened doorway, I could see it—the table set for two, the half-full wine glass in her hand, and her heels she had kicked off that were resting next to his sneakers. I smelled it too. The scents of something Italian cooking filled my nostrils—garlic, cheese, and sauce.
I couldn’t think. My throat was tightening up more and more by the second. I was having a hard time breathing, and I thought maybe I did swallow one of those cashews, after all.
I needed to get out of there and away from finding out what we need to talk really meant. The answer was already standing in front of me looking smug. I didn’t want to hear the words Preston was going to tell me when he came out of the shower.
It was fun while it lasted, but it was never meant to be forever. One month was the original plan, yet he gave me six. Our time was over.
I finally answered her question about coming in. My head was telling me to say yes. Go in. There was a reason she was here and not the one you were thinking. In the end, my heart made the decision. “No.”
Chanel had to rub it in. It was what she always did. As soon as I walked into the same room as her and Preston, she would stand a little closer to him. Hold his hand a little tighter. The worst, kiss him a little longer. I had endured it for five years, and after having him for six months, I wouldn’t be able to survive if I ever saw it again. “There’s plenty of food and wine for all of us to share.”
“No thanks.” The words that came out were polite. In my mind, I was really saying screw you. And oh, God, this hurt.
So I did what any normal twenty-six-year-old girl would do when faced with impending heartbreak and was locked out of her apartment. I ran, then drove an hour and a half to my mom.
I knew it was both childish and the coward’s way out. The adult way to handle it would have been to stand my ground and not let the witch get the upper hand. Fight for your man. But I’d had a shit day.
I had more on my plate than I was ready to handle. Alone.
So when I threw open my parents’ front door, ran into the living room where they were watching Alex Trebek on the television, and practically jumped in my mom’s arms, I was grateful nothing else went wrong.
“Honey, what’s happened?” my mom asked while running her hand over my head. I was curled up next to her with my arms wrapped around her waist.
“I had a bad day,” I answered back through a hiccupped sob. Dad muted the television and did what he always did when I was upset; he walked into the kitchen, then came back with a glass of milk, two graham crackers, and a box of tissues. Even though I wasn’t five anymore, it was comforting just the same. He nodded, then left us to talk in private.
“Oh, Tenley. Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head while it was pressed against her lap. “I just want to forget this whole day ever existed.”
She continued to stroke my hair. “You know you’ll feel better if you talk about it.”
In the past, maybe it would have. The last time I cried over a heartbreak, I was a freshman in college. I was home for spring break, and my then boyfriend was in Mexico with his friends. Pictures of him and some fling surfaced. I ate graham crackers and milk while Mom explained I was destined to have more heartbreaks. How in a few months, I would forget all about him when my next knight would show up and sweep me off my feet. My knight was Preston then too. But he didn’t sweep me off my feet back then. He defended my honor, as he always did, and gave Erik a black eye when he showed up at my dorm room to apologize.
I sure knew how to pick them. It seemed every boy I ever dated cheated or replaced me the next day.
With the way my heart felt—ripped and torn to shreds—I didn’t think talking would repair it. There would be no Preston defending me. No best friend to drink with me and say “screw all men” even though he was a male himself. There would be no sugary breakfast the next morning where we would nurse our hangovers, then spend the day watching movies that had nothing to do with love. Because my best friend was the reason my heart was breaking.
I couldn’t tell my mom, though. She loved Preston. And I didn’t want her not to love him. I slid to the space between the couch and the coffee table. With my knees pressed to my chest, I picked up one rectangle cracker. Instead, I told her how I lost my job, my phone broke, how I could have died if I hadn’t noticed my lunch contained nuts, and how my apartment door sucked while I dipped my graham cracker in the milk.
Mom knew. Intuition and all. “We can get you a new phone tomorrow. I’ll have your father call your landlord about fixing your door. A new and better job will come along. And you will eventually forgive Preston for whatever he did.”
I dropped my cracker in the milk, and the sinking feeling returned to my gut because the truth was I didn’t even know if he did anything wrong. I was just too scared to find out.
“I remember the first time I saw the two of you together.” She smiled. I fe
lt the tears start to burn behind my eyes because I remembered too. One part of me didn’t want to, but the other part wanted to hold on to those memories for dear life because it might be the only thing I had left of us.
“You were going to the fair with his family. You were so insistent that it was no big deal. You were only seven at the time, but I saw it when they pulled in the driveway. The way you checked your outfit and smoothed your ponytail.”
I remembered. “And you let me wear lip gloss for the first time.”
With my head resting on her leg, I listened, thinking about simpler times. “You were smitten with that boy. And I was too when he told me he’d watch out for you and would make sure you didn’t eat too much junk food before riding any roller coasters.”
Being friends back then was easy. There was no dating back then. Being best friends with a boy wasn’t an issue. It wasn’t a no-no. “He did too.”
“Is it something that can be fixed?” She cared. She told me as much last time we visited. He was a keeper.
“I don’t know. I’m scared, Mom.” She pressed her hand to my head once again. “I love him so much, and I have for as long as I can remember. I don’t think I could go back to being just friends.”
“Have you told him how you feel?” she questions.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because what if he doesn’t love me back?”
“Oh, honey. Why wouldn’t he?”
Because he didn’t notice me for nineteen years. Because I was the girl he went to for advice when he thought some other girl was pretty. Because he initially only came to me so I could help him get over his ex, the woman who was currently in his apartment when she should be in Paris.
I didn’t say those things, though. Instead, I shrugged my shoulder and finished my milk. “Can I stay the weekend? I don’t feel like driving home.”
“You know your room is always ready when you need it.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Everything will look better in the morning.”
I brought my cup to the kitchen and gave Dad a kiss on the balding spot of his head as I walked by him.
All the Right Moves Page 16
