OPEN YOUR HEART: Material Girls 1

by Henry, Sophia

  “Thank you so much. He’s gonna love to hear that. The loss has hit him hard.”

  “I know.” Emily reaches over the bar and places her hand over Maria’s. “I’ve been thinking about both of you.”

  Maria finishes the drinks and hooks a lime to each rim.

  “Hugo is Maria’s husband,” Emily explains as we walk away from the bar. “His mom passed away a few weeks ago after a long battle with breast cancer. He’s devastated.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yeah. I’m gonna do a portrait for him at like, one quarter of what I’d normally charge for a piece like that. They don’t have the money, and I know it would help him so much in his healing.”

  “That’s awesome, Em.”

  “Life is about being good to others, right? Not money.”

  I raise my glass to clink with hers. “Cheers to that.”

  It’s ironic because we’re standing in a massive backyard, drinking freely from an open bar, at a party put on to impress wealthy people.

  “Though, I gotta admit, having money can help,” Emily continues. “Hugo and Maria have been part of our family for years. She’s part of the housekeeping team and he works with our landscaper, Erik. When Hugo’s mom got sick, she didn’t have insurance and they couldn’t afford her treatments. Liz jumped into action. She found them an oncologist, started a non-profit, put together a silent auction fundraiser. I still can’t believe she did all that with everything she had going on at the hospital. But that’s Liz.”

  Nothing about that story surprises me. Liz is an overachiever with a heart of gold—and she never would have told me she did all that unless it came up somehow.

  As I sip my drink, I glance over at Liz. She’s moved to a different circle, this one filled with people in a much older age range than the other group. Her mother stands next to her, confident and regal. They look so much alike.

  Something churns in the pit of my stomach. Is this Liz’s future? Pool parties where no one swims and douchebags who actively try to put down everyone they speak with? Plastic smiles to pretend she cares about what the person she’s speaking to has to say? Faking who she really is and what she wants out of life because her peers won’t understand a person who wants to help others who can’t afford quality care rather than be the premier surgeon in Charlotte?

  Is this my future if we stay together? Heads turning because my body is covered in tattoos rather than seersucker suits? Liz ticking off my accomplishments to prove my career has value to people I don’t give a fuck about impressing? Sneaking off with Emily because having her as an ally makes being around these people tolerable?

  The first pint of Jack and Coke goes down way too easily as I think about what a super-shitty boyfriend I’m being right now. I’m being just as judgmental as these people are.

  “I’m surprised you’re here,” I say to Emily.

  “Oh, I’m not staying long! I’m just making an appearance to down enough free drinks to piss off my parents. But it’s Maddie’s twenty-fifth and she made me feel guilty when I said I wasn’t going to come.”

  “Are you two close?”

  Emily snorts, which causes heads to turn our way. She raises her glass and curtsies. “No.”

  It’s funny, because Emily and Maddie are very similar personality-wise. Emily is just the tatted goth version. But I have a feeling she’d think that assessment was an insult, so I keep my mouth shut.

  “The dynamic has changed over the years.” She pauses when a waiter appears next to us with two brand new pints of Jack and Coke. I set my empty glass on the tray and take the new drink. Looks like Maria has Emily completely hooked up. “Maddie and Liz are two years apart, so they used to be closer. They’ve grown apart recently, and Liz and I have gotten closer. I blame you for that.”

  “You’re welcome,” I say.

  Emily pulls her long mane of silver hair over one shoulder. “It’s nice to have a relationship with her. Liz has been out in medical-land for so long. She hasn’t had much time for any of us. I get it, believe me.”

  “She works her ass off.”

  “Absolutely, but it was also her way of getting away from all this shit, ya know? I know she hates it. I can tell.” She gestures around the yard, without a care in the world of who sees her. “I left the family with a bang. She left with a whisper.”

  She’s paraphrasing The Hollow Men, one of my favorite poems by T.S. Eliot, and I’m glad she changed the word “whimper’ to whisper, because Liz does not whimper. My girl is rock solid.

  “So this isn’t her thing?” I ask, looking at her over the rim of my glass.

  “She can play the part. I bet it’s like you when you’re on stage. Is that your natural habitat? No, but you put on a realistic performance.”

  I nod. The similarities hadn’t crossed my mind. Why is it so easy to see the things that will break people apart rather than the things that will bring us together?

  “It just sucks because she’s gonna be around people like this all the time. That’s the field she chose. I hate to stereotype, because we both know not all people fit into any one mold, but damn, there are a lot of pretentious asses in her field. She just doesn’t fit in.”

  “Hey!” Liz touches my arm.

  “Hey!”

  She looks between Emily and I as if watching a tennis game, even though we’re both still. “Can I grab you for a minute; I want to introduce you to my dad.”

  My stomach tightens. Meeting Harris Commons is the absolute last thing I want to do tonight. I’d rather create a tattoo on my arm with cigarette burns.

  “You’re gonna introduce Austin as your boyfriend here? At Maddie’s party?” Emily asks. “Don’t you think that’s a bit rude?”

  Liz pulls her shoulders back. “Why would it be rude to introduce Austin here? I thought it would be rude to invite him and not introduce him at all.”

  “Because this is Daddy’s favorite way to brag. Gathering his snobby friends, puffing up his chest as he moves about the grounds of his beautiful home, pretending to have a perfect life and family.”

  I scoff at the last example. Perfect family, my ass. They’re one event away from a major blow up. What if my being here is that event? I don’t know if I can take that stress.

  “So what? I still want Austin to meet him.”

  “Austin, are you ready to be grilled?” She lowers her voice in an attempt to sound like her father. “What do you do? Oh, a musician? Looks like we have another creative. Not much money in a field like that, is there? You must have another job, yes? At The Usual Market, you say? Well, isn’t that blue-collar. What do your parents do? Oh, well. How did you and Elizabeth meet? Did you know that she graduated at the very top of her class at Columbia? You know Columbia, right? It’s one of the best medical schools in the country. Where did you go to university?”

  “You can stop now,” Liz says through clenched teeth.

  “Plus,” Emily continues. “Don’t you think Austin already feels out of place? You couldn’t give him the heads up as to how to dress for this?”

  My hands fly to the hem of the borrowed polo. Liz said I looked fine.

  “His outfit is completely acceptable,” Liz says quietly, glaring at her sister.

  “Yeah, for a normal human’s pool party! Did you tell him that this is a garden party? And—even though we all hang out by the pool—no one actually swims?” Emily gestures toward the water where many are gathered around, but no one is actually in. No one here, except me, is wearing anything that would be deemed swimwear.

  “Please stop,” I say, trying to quell the anger building up between the sisters. Liz’s bottom lip is quivering as if she’s about to lose her shit. And I know that’s not something she wants anyone to see. “Should I jump in and get this pool party rolling?”

  “No!” Both girls cry in unison.

  I had no intention of jumping in the pool. I just wanted to get the two sisters to stop arguing.

  “Elizabeth! There you are.” Mrs. Co
mmons stops next to Liz. “Dr. Crowder and his wife just arrived. Come say hello.”

  Dr. Crowder’s name rings familiar as Liz’s mentor at the hospital. The fact that he was invited to Maddie’s birthday party seems a little odd, but then again, maybe the families are longtime friends. I have no clue.

  Liz hesitates, but her mother won’t allow that. “Emily will be happy to keep Austin busy for a few more minutes, right?”

  Her wording strikes a chord. When she says “a few more minutes” it seems like she’s noticed that Liz and I haven’t spent a lot of time together and that’s the way she wants to keep it.

  Emily smiles sweetly. “Of course, Mama.”

  “Cut it out,” Mrs. Commons says in a clipped voice. “You and I have a few things to discuss later.”

  Emily rolls her eyes and lifts her drink to her lips. Without waiting for Liz to answer, Mrs. Commons whisks her away.

  “Welcome to the family,” Emily quips without a smile.

  I’m trying not to be the needy guy who gets pissed that Liz and I have barely spent any time together at the party she invited me to, but it gets even more difficult with each passing minute. Thankfully, I have Emily to talk to. This isn’t an environment where I feel comfortable enough to strike up a conversation with any random person. Though Emily mentioned that Trent was a special kind of douche, I’m fairly certain there are more guys like him, who get off on trying to make people feel badly about their lives.

  I’m not ashamed in the least, but I also don’t feel like spending the entire evening on defense with people who will never understand my way of thinking. They don’t want to. They can only see things from their own perspective.

  Emily and I spend the entire evening shooting the shit about people we know and catching up on things going on in our respective careers. I’m not the only one with exciting things happening. Emily is one of the most requested tattoo artists in Charlotte. Hell, people come in from all over to be tattooed by her. Which is pretty fucking amazing for as young as she is.

  “This party is lame as fuck,” I tell Emily. “I was in NYC, partying with the guys from Scared Bunny on my twenty-fifth.”

  “Oh, look at you, Mr. Big Stuff! Is the ickiness infiltrating your pores, making you feel the need to brag about who you know and where you’ve been?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “I was kidding!”

  “I know, but there was some truth in it and I’m pissed at myself.”

  “You need to cleanse your chakras.”

  I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about. I’m not a very new-age, spiritual guy. “Will more Jack Daniels do that?”

  “Dude! You can’t get sloppy drunk. My parents will hate you.”

  Our eyes meet and we both bust out laughing. There is no doubt in either of our minds that her parents hate me already.

  It’s never a good thing when I start keeping track of time based on how many drinks I’ve consumed rather than numbers on a clock. How long have you been here? I don’t know, about four Jack and Cokes?

  “You’re so different than your family, Em. How the hell did you come from this?” I open my arms and spin around. Which is not the best decision for someone who’s downed four pint glasses of Jack Daniels and Coke.

  “I don’t even know. We should get out of here. Wanna share a ride?”

  “Yeah,” I answer without thinking. “Drinks at The Market?”

  “I’m down,” she says. “Let me run in and get my bag.”

  Emily and I weave through groups of people who stare at us with every step we take. I don’t see myself as that different, but I guess when people look at me, with almost every inch of visible skin from the neck down covered in tattoos, they get nervous. They see something they don’t understand, so they condemn it.

  When I swing open one of the French doors to allow Emily to enter the house first, Liz is there.

  “Hey!” she says with a smile. Her eyes dart between Emily and me, causing her smile to falter. “Are you leaving?” Her voice rings in my ears like a song. The song I wrote about two people who would never work out because they come from completely different backgrounds has never rung as true as it has tonight.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, were you going to tell me? Say goodbye?”

  “I wasn’t sure where you were. You kinda ditched me.”

  “Ditched you? We were in the middle of a conversation and then you ran off with Emily.”

  “Remember the night we met, Liz? At my house when my friends were yelling things and being complete assholes? I didn’t leave you alone to chat with them because I didn’t want to put you in a situation that I knew would make you uncomfortable. You may think I have nerves of steel, but I don’t. I came here tonight because I was excited that you wanted me to meet your family and friends. I thought that I meant something to you.”

  Liz’s eyes are wide, as if surprised. “That’s exactly why I invited you.” She reaches out to touch my arm, but I back away.

  “And yet, you dropped me right into an uncomfortable situation. You and Maddie had to come out, guns blazing, right? Bragging about my accomplishments just so your friends thought I had worth. Am I not good enough without a few songs on the radio, Liz?”

  “You know that’s not—”

  Emily cuts Liz off. “Hey guys, let’s, uh, take this somewhere else.” Then she presses two palms into Liz’s back and shoves her inside the house.

  I glance over my shoulder, realizing that we’ve created a commotion. Most heads are turned toward us, staring and whispering. Get it together, Austin. You’re embarrassing Liz.

  When I look at my girl, her eyes are glassy, as if tears are seconds away from spilling over her cheeks. She’s wringing her hands in front of her. “Can we please go somewhere to talk?”

  I nod, forgetting Emily is even there, and follow Liz as she leads me through the house and up a massive, ornate, winding staircase. Every step reminds me of how much I don’t belong here—and don’t want to belong here. Who the fuck needs a staircase like this? Who needs a house like this? The overly ornamental marble fireplace; gaudy mahogany everything; wrought-iron fixtures jutting out of the walls for no reason; gilded mirrors taller than my six-foot-three frame around every corner.

  When we get to the top of the stairs, a painting of a woman and little girl catches my eye. There is no doubt the woman is Cookie Commons about twenty to twenty-five years younger. There’s only one girl in the picture in a household of three girls, so I can only conclude that it’s their firstborn.

  “Is that—?” I point to the wall.

  “Shut up.” Liz dismisses me without even looking at the artwork I’m pointing to. I close my mouth. There’s no need to point out that they have a custom oil painting of themselves on the wall of their home when we’re in the middle of a scuffle.

  Liz opens the door to the right of the painting. As soon as she turns on the light I’m flooded by her—or what used to be her. The familiar smell of amber and vanilla, Liz’s signature scent, floods my senses and tells me she’s been wearing the same perfume or body lotion since high school. The thought makes me smile. It’s very much like her to find something she likes and stick with it, even as trends come and go. She’s not swayed by the masses.

  Built-in shelves, bursting with books, span an entire wall. A plush, purple cushion lines the bench of a beautiful bay window. I imagine Liz sitting there, reading, studying, looking out at the stars, wondering when her life would be her own. The queen bed has an ornate fabric headboard, with bronze nailhead trim around the top, and is draped with a purple comforter.

  The walk to her room has given me the time I needed to calm down. If Emily hadn’t interrupted us, I may have lashed out and said something I couldn’t take back. I’m usually an easygoing drunk, but I allowed the alcohol to intensify an already anxious situation for me. Then I ran my mouth and projected my insecurity onto Liz. Never a good combination.

  Liz sits
on the bed and looks up at me. “I’m sorry.”

  “I am too,” I say, taking a seat next to her. “I didn’t mean to—I—” I grab my hair with both fists and take a deep breath. Just spit it out, tough guy. “I felt really insecure out there, Liz. And that’s not your fault, it’s mine, but—”

  “It is my fault. I’m sorry I put you in that situation. I invited you because I’m proud of you—of us. I couldn’t wait to introduce you to my family and friends.” She lifts her eyes to mine, but drops them quickly. “But then we got here and I realized that this was not the right situation to bring you into. I should have introduced you to my parents alone, without others around. Not because I’m ashamed of you,” she explains quickly, “but because I should have known how uncomfortable it would be. I should have known that my parents would be taken off-guard when they saw you and would try to compensate that by being rude to you. I’d like to believe my friends would be kind, but sometimes I give them too much credit.”

  “I get it.”

  “And then I got jealous because you were hanging out with Emily all night.” She scratches a pull in the duvet, an imperfection I missed at first glance. When we look deeper into what we think is perfection, the flaws become visible, those unique imperfections that make us human.

  “I wasn’t trying to make you jealous at all. I understood that there were people you needed to talk to and at first it was cool because I had Emily there. But as the night went on, and I had more drinks, I admit, I got upset. I was like ‘Hey! I’ll just be over here waiting for you to make me part of your life.’”

  “It was never my intention to make you feel that way. I’m sorry. I—maybe that’s why we’ll never work, Austin. We’re too different. You and Emily have so much more in common. She’s—”

  I grab her hands and squeeze them in mine. “I don’t want to be with Emily. I want to be with you.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” I chuckle. “Because you’re hot as fuck.”

  She cocks her head and huffs. She doesn’t believe me. Which is absolutely tragic.