by Vivian Wood
“Poppy? Don’t you think?” Ryan and Sarah looked at her inquisitively.
“Sorry. What?”
“Come on Poppy, keep up with the conversation!” Ryan said.
“Some of us are coming off of eighteen-hour shifts, okay?” she said with a smile.
“Oh, my bad, big busy doctor lady. Here, have some of this beer bread. It’ll soak up some of that whiskey.”
“You go ahead and finish it,” she said. “I have to go to the restroom.”
“I’ll go with you,” Sarah said as she stood up and adjusted her skintight jeans.
“More for me,” Ryan said. He removed his arm from Sarah and used both hands to dig into the cheesy loaf.
“P?” Sarah asked as they stood before the mirrors. She swiped on lipstick while Poppy tightened her ponytail. “You’re not upset. Right? About me and Ryan?”
“Of course not!” Poppy said. “Don’t be silly. I’m happy if you are.”
“It’s just—there’s nothing going on between you guys, is there?” Sarah caught Poppy’s eyes in the mirror.
Poppy smiled. “No. No way. I’m just adjusting, that’s all. To Ryan being back, and finding out you two—it’s a lot. But I’m good. I’m happy for you both.”
Sarah hugged her tight. “That’s great,” she said into Poppy’s hair. “Because I’m super into him. Always have been.”
“That’s good!” Poppy said. “Seriously. Ryan’s a good guy.”
“Do you think he likes me?”
“I think we should get back to the party,” Poppy said as she picked up her phone from the counter.
Sarah linked her arm through Poppy’s as they walked back to the table, now surrounded by Ryan’s friends.
Poppy hung in there the entire night, even stayed through last call for the first time in years. But she just couldn’t help that feeling in her gut every time she looked at Ryan and Sarah.
8
Ryan
Hey, my friend’s having a pool party this afternoon! You and S should come. The text from Poppy woke Ryan up. He groaned at the bright morning light that streamed through his windows. If ever there was a reason to buy curtains, this goddamned morning sun is it.
When he saw the text was from Poppy, any last traces of sleepiness vanished. I have nothing but free time, he wrote back. Will ask S.
Ryan called Sarah, though he’d much prefer to text. However, he was in that strange millennial category where actual phone calls threw women for a loop. It was an easy way to make yourself stand out.
“Seriously, P’s going to a party?” Sarah asked. “This sucks, I have to work today. But you should go. Send her my love.” As he hung up with Sarah, relief washed over him. Why was he happy the girl he was seeing couldn’t go?
Ryan thought he’d get there early at two o'clock when he drove up to the address Poppy had texted him, but there were already cars lined up the street. Is this for real? The music blasting from the backyard answered him when he was still three houses down. He couldn’t even find a sliver of space to park his bike closer, since the street was so packed.
It took him awhile to push his way through the crowded foyer and through the throngs of people smashed into the living room. The kitchen, the obvious place for a makeshift bar, seemed to be professionally staffed with bartenders whipping up frozen margaritas and daiquiris.
“You seen Poppy?” he asked a random girl in cutoff shorts.
“Who?” she screamed at him.
“Never mind.”
Finally, he spotted her poolside on a lounge chair. Is that Poppy? She was dressed, if it could be called that, in the tiniest white bikini he’d ever seen with just a few strings holding the fabric together. From the other side of the pool, he had to admit—she looked pretty damn hot.
Funny, I’ve never noticed her like that before. Poppy had always been just his best friend. Sure, he’d considered it before, just like he did with every girl he’d known. But in the past, the idea of Poppy, well, it just kind of grossed him out. But today was different.
He tried to shake it off as he made his way through the crowd toward her. “This party’s poppin’, Poppy,” he said as he sat down by her legs.
She groaned. “That’s terrible.”
“That’s my specialty.”
She sat up with a smile, and when she did he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her tits. The almost nonexistent bits of material covered her areolas, just barely, and not well. Even though the suit was dry, he could make out the shape of her nipples. Thank God I’m sitting down. It would be really hard to hide this awkward erection. “Where’s Sarah?” she asked.
“Couldn’t make it. Working,” he said.
“That’s too bad,” she said, and made a face.
He shrugged. “We’re taking things really slow, anyway. It’s probably good to not see each other for a couple days. Besides, now you and I have time to catch up.”
“Catch up?”
“Yeah. You know, on what I’ve missed since I was last here. How’s school?” he asked. Stop looking at her tits. Stop looking at her tits. She shifted in her seat and leaned down to get a bottle of water. The weight of her breasts shifting mesmerized him.
“Not school anymore, really. I’m an intern now. I get to be on the floor with patients, getting my hands dirty.”
“You still interested in pediatrics?”
“Totally. I’m actually interested in pediatric endocrinology, which is a fancy way of saying that I want to help kids who discover they have diabetes or problems with growth or puberty.”
“Isn’t that kind of depressing?”
“I don’t think so. Kids are so resilient; even the sickest kids bounce back so fast, and they’re so hopeful. It’s kind of great. Maybe not the best party talk, though.”
“Yeah,” he said. “How are your parents, by the way? It’s kind of a trip being here after all this time.”
Poppy bit her lip and shook her head. “My dad is supposedly sober, but it’s not the first time Mom’s said that. Though she’s ever hopeful! I don’t know, I don’t talk to them much. How’s your family doing?”
“You probably know as well as I do! Ever since Eli became POTUS, well, most of them are busy being plastered all over the news.”
“So crazy,” Poppy said as she took a sip of water. “President at thirty-five freaking years old.”
“But they’re good,” he said. “Him and Mer are good. And, actually I can’t believe I haven’t told you this, Ellie actually settled down.”
“Yeah? Wait, with that jerk guy the media caught hooking up with some other girl in a bar bathroom or something?”
“No, no—one of Eli’s friends. Henry. I don’t know if you ever met him.”
“Whoa, age gap,” Poppy said.
“They seem to work,” he said with a shrug. “He's even moving with her cross-country so she can go to vet school in California.”
Poppy laughed. “I always knew Ellie was headed for big things.”
Her grin was enough to make Ryan smile.
“Hey,” she said, “how about we get a drink and get in the pool?”
In the kitchen, she asked the bartender for two piña coladas.
“What?” the bartender yelled over the music.
Poppy plugged the request into her phone and held it up. The bartender nodded, then a few minutes later handed them the colorful drinks. “Extra strong,” Poppy said with a wink.
The water was warmer than he expected. “Why isn’t anyone else in the water?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I’m not complaining.”
He wasn’t sure where the time went. Almost nobody else ventured into the pool—the women too afraid of messing up their hair, and the guys uninterested since it seemed there was just Ryan and Poppy, who swam in slow circles.
“Another round?” The bartender appeared poolside.
“Another?” Poppy asked Ryan with a raised brow.
“That’ll be our third,” he said.
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br /> “Fourth,” the bartender said.
“Why not?” Poppy said. “It’s a party.”
“Speaking of,” Ryan said, “how do you know all these people?”
“I don’t!” she said with a laugh as the bartender handed them more cocktails. “I don’t know, word of mouth happened, blah blah blah. You know how it goes. Plus, I like pools,” she said. “If my parents had owned one, it probably would have helped boost me up the high school hierarchy.”
“Poppy—”
“I’m serious! And I’m not upset. I mean, I know it’s because you kind of pulled me along with you back then. I’m sorry if I held you back.”
“Held me back?”
“You know… with girls and stuff. I wasn’t exactly the life of the party.”
“You were fine, Pops. You were perfect.” That had to be the drinks talking. “Oh man, how far we’ve come,” he said, eager to change the subject. “Can you believe Eli’s president now?”
“That’s so insane,” she said with a laugh. “I always thought Eli was a geek until I saw him a few years ago.”
“What do you mean?”
Poppy turned red. “I mean… Eli got attractive, you know? He’s not my type, but—”
“There’s just something about Scott men, huh?”
Poppy’s blushing deepened to a near purple. Ryan couldn’t help it. She’s fucking cute. Okay, maybe I’m buzzed. Drunk even. It’s not a big deal.
“Hey, help me with sunscreen?” she asked suddenly. “I have this patient with melanoma. Just fourteen years old. Now I’m terrified of skin cancer.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said.
As Poppy ascended the stairs, he couldn’t move. Her bathing suit was almost transparent. He saw the line of her ass, and when she turned it was like she was wearing nothing. Stay right where you are. This isn’t a good idea.
“Are you coming?” she asked.
“I don’t know, it’s really nice in here. Can’t you—”
“Ryan, seriously. I can’t do my back!”
“Okay, okay,” he said. He sat beside her as she worked the lotion up her legs, her tight stomach, and across her chest.
“Do me now?” she asked. Christ, don’t you hear yourself? Poppy turned onto her stomach on the lounge chair, and Ryan got to work brusquely.
“Ow, a little more gentle. Please?” she said.
He worked his way quickly from her neck and fumbled a bit with the string at her back—careful to avoid the sides of her breasts. As he moved down her back, he traced his fingers over those two dimples at the crest of her ass. He slid to the flanks of her hips. Was that a shiver?
Poppy sighed, and turned one cheek to the towel below her face. What would it be like? Just once—to kiss those lush lips?
Ryan stood up to move down to her calves, and Poppy looked up. Their eyes locked, and there was something in her emerald gaze. His eyes moved, seemingly of their own accord, to her lips and she licked them. Ryan sat back down and leaned toward her. As he closed his eyes, he saw her own flutter shut.
“I think I drank too much,” she whispered and jolted up.
You are a fucking idiot. Obviously they were both drunk, and Poppy wasn’t sending him any signals. “I, uh, I’m sorry?” he stammered at her.
“It’s fine! Really. Just… silly,” she said. He watched the fake, happy host façade take over and Poppy started chattering away with people nearby.
“You okay?” he asked her after half an hour. She was fully committed to ignoring him.
“Yeah! Actually, my Uber’s here,” she said as she packed up her things.
“Oh! I could have taken you—”
“I’m good,” she said, and gave him a quick hug. “Thanks for coming.”
You are a totally jackass, he thought as he watched her weave her way into the house.
9
Poppy
“I think I’m dying,” Poppy told the empty room. Her hangover had claws dug deep into her head, the perfect complement to the ball of tension lodged in her chest. What all happened yesterday? She could recall glimpses—her and Ryan in the pool. How he rubbed her down with lotion. When he leaned into her—no, that couldn’t be right.
She let the warm spray of the shower wash away parts of her hangover and the sticky sunscreen from the day before. When their eyes had locked, and his lips had been moving toward hers… they had, right? She couldn’t have imagined that.
It had sparked a curiosity in her, a kind she’d never felt until now. What would kissing Ryan be like?
Looking back on it, it was strange they’d never kissed before. After all, they’d had the perfect teen romcom setup. Best friends in high school, the nerdy boy who got hot and popular, and the girl next door who he finally sees as more than a friend.
Maybe it was just too weird to even consider. She got dressed on autopilot, yanked up the faded scrubs and shuffled into her ugly orthopedic shoes. Wait, it’s Friday. Friday! She was off rounds today for the first time since she'd scored this internship. Having Fridays off was reserved for the seasoned interns. Maybe that was her now.
I wonder what Ryan’s doing right now.
Guilt started to creep over her. An incessant, nagging voice in her head reminded her of Will. That’s your boyfriend! He’s the one you should be thinking about kissing.
She punched Will’s name into Facetime before she could talk herself out of it. “Hey!” she said when his face filled the screen. “How are you? I’m—”
“Can’t talk much right now,” he said. “I’m on my way to a coffee date with another writer. James? Remember I told you about him? He’s a big deal here. And, well, everywhere.”
“James, yeah, sure,” she said. The name didn’t sound familiar at all.
“It’s been crazy here, but in a good way,” he said. He talked to her in that formal voice he usually reserved for her friends he didn’t like. Which was all of them.
“How so? Are you managing to do any sightseeing?”
“Sightseeing? Really, Poppy?” he asked with disgust.
“Sorry. It’s just I’ve never been. I figured it would be cool to—”
“This is a work trip, not a vacation.”
“I know that.”
“But I’ve gotten some good feedback from people I’ve met with. Lots of feelers out there.” Feelers?
“That’s great! Yeah, I’m—”
“Oh, hey, I have to go now. I think I see him.”
“Okay, call me—”
She stopped when she realized it was dead air. Poppy pursed her lips and tossed her phone on her bed. He’s so self-absorbed! How had she never noticed before? He didn’t even ask how she was.
Why did it even matter? It’s not like you’re going to tell him about the almost kiss with Ryan, for crying out loud. Will was already crazy jealous. But in his defense, it wasn't like he was the first. Most of her boyfriends had been jealous of Ryan. She hadn’t dated a lot, but the few casual relationships she'd had always involved a jealous argument or two at some point.
Will was just the first one who wasn’t totally wrong. She’d never thought about Ryan like that in the past, but now… now was different.
A tiny piece of her wanted to know what sleeping with Ryan would be like. Kissing him would be close, but not quite close enough. What’s wrong with you? You’ve never wanted to have sex with anyone before!
To distract herself, she buried herself in chores. It had been weeks since she’d done any kind of cleaning, and maybe her mom was right after all—it did feel therapeutic. Cathartic, even.
When her phone started to chirp, she was annoyed at how easy it was to break that cleaning-induced meditative state. It’s probably Will, wanting to brag about his super successful coffee date.
“Shut up!” she yelled to her phone, but it persisted.
Finally, she grabbed the phone to see what the fuss was all about. Poppy, why aren’t you answering? It was a text from Ryan. I’m really sorry about yesterday.
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She sat down on her bed and composed reply after reply. Nothing sounded right.
Take you and Sarah to lunch to make up for it?
Poppy smiled and shot back a yes with a smiley face.
El Pajaro Azul in one hour, he replied.
She couldn’t help but dress up for the occasion. It would be the first time… the first time for what? For Ryan to see her in something besides wrinkled jeans, T-shirts, and a borrowed bathing suit?
Why not? She deserved to pamper herself from time to time, too. Besides, it had been months since she’d worn anything besides medical scrubs and jeans. She pulled on a coral, strappy maxi dress and wiggled on her wedge heels. It was casual, but eye catching. And she’d surely blend right in.
As she strolled through the extravagant entryway of the restaurant, she realized the last time she'd been here it was different. The new owners had really pulled out all the stops. The grand foyer spilled over with exotic plants, and she spotted a small mariachi band serenading table after table. In the center, right behind the hostess stand, a massive cage of blue parrots fluttered and squawked.
“Reservations?” the hostess asked.
“Um,” she began, but spotted Ryan and Sarah already seated in an intimate, half-circular booth, cuddled side by side. “Yeah, my friends are over there,” she said.
As she approached, her stomach began flipping. Stop it, she commanded, and forced the feeling aside.
“P!” Sarah said, and jumped up to hug her. “I heard the party was banging. I’m sorry I missed it.” She stuck her lower lip out in a pout.
“Oh, yeah, you actually didn’t miss much,” she said as she sat down and smoothed the dress beneath her. “The drinking and sugary mixers and the sun—I had a terrible headache this morning.”
“You just need more practice,” Sarah said with a wink and grabbed a tortilla strip.
“Everyone ready to order?” the waiter asked, pen poised above a pad.
“Poppy just got here,” Sarah said.
