Oh no.
“Okay, so while you were having a dance with Aiden, Paul kind of approached me and we got around to talking. Did you know he went to Harvard, Ronnie? That’s beside the point. The point is, he isn’t really all that bad. At least not to me. In fact, we seem to have a lot in common. He asked for my number and I gave it to him, and we’ve been on a couple of dates.” She pauses and I take a breath, realizing only then that I’ve willfully stopped breathing. “I really like him, Ronnie.”
“Why?” I ask, pushing my brows together. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve just had a fight with Taylor, or that George still hasn’t called me and it’s been over a month now, or that Farrah is somehow behind my sister’s heartbreak. But for whatever reason, I can’t stop the bewilderment from tainting my tone. “Kelly, do you know how ridiculously condescending Paul is? I grew up with him and he criticized everything, whether it was the fact that I didn’t wear matching socks or that freckles were a fashion faux-pas or whatever. And now that he’s graduated from Harvard, he thinks he has a degree in telling everyone what’s wrong with them. He’s a jerk. How could you even get with someone like him, Kelly? You’re way too good for him.”
It’s then that I notice the flush in her cheek and the tears in her eyes. I’ve overstepped my bounds this time, and I only notice it now, when it’s too late.
“I knew you would say something like that,” she remarks, and though she’s trying to be mad at me, I can tell that she’s too crushed to even pretend. “You have an opinion about everything, don’t you Ronnie? Well guess what? This is one of the moments where you’re wrong. And yes, Ronnie, even you can be wrong. I don’t know if you’ve realized this just yet, but not everyone can be as picky as you when it comes to relationships. I’m not as pretty as you are, okay? I’ve been alone for a good deal of my life, and you know what? I want to be taken care of. I want a guy who adores me, and Paul could be that guy. Yes, he has flaws, but then again, so do I, and I’m mature enough to accept them as parts of who he is. And news flash Ronnie: you have flaws as well. You’re going to have to get over this whole not-settling-in-a-relationship because you think no one meets your ridiculously high standards when really, you’re just scared of being in a relationship, and even more than that, you’re scared of being yourself in a relationship.” She stops in order to catch her breath and slams the store keys on the table. “I have a date with Paul tonight, and though I pushed it back so I could close up with you, I’m leaving now.”
With that, she turns and exits. If the door could slam, I’m sure Kelly would have slammed it behind her because she’s always had a flair for dramatics.
Jesus.
I’m not sure how I’m feeling at the moment. Taylor’s mad at me because of this whole Stephen-Farrah situation and now, Kelly and I had had a fight. I’m upset, mad at my sister and my friend for being ridiculous, but even more than that, I’m mad at myself. Is Kelly right? Am I being judgmental when I really shouldn’t be? Are my standards too high? Am I really afraid of being myself in a relationship?
At least I have time to contemplate my emotions, considering no one comes into Penguin’s anyway. But I’m not sure I can stand myself at the moment.
* * *
The days come and go. Taylor and I have made up from our previous fight, but there was never any doubt about that. We’re sisters after all, and we’ve both realized and apologized for our mistakes. However, I note that Taylor doesn’t wish to discuss Stephen anymore, and whether or not Farrah is responsible for his hasty departure doesn’t matter to her. Ultimately, Stephen made his own choice. I have to agree with Taylor and I also respect her wishes.
I haven’t spoken to Kelly since our fight that February night. She quickly rewrote the schedule so I work a different shift than she does. Taylor ended up going to the store to return the keys to Kelly because I didn’t want to see her, and right now, I still don’t.
I know that Kelly was right about a lot of the things she said in our fight. I know that there’s a lot of myself I have to work on. I know that I’m not perfect. But I know Paul, and I don’t like Paul. And I know, I know, that Kelly can do so much better than Paul. I still don’t understand what she sees in him. But will our friendship cease to exist because of a guy? And if that’s the case, am I to blame for that?
I mean, I suppose I would be. As far as I know, Paul hasn’t mistreated her and she seems happy with him as far as I know. My dislike for him is because of his attitude towards me, but that was before he got with Kelly. Could a person change? I’m the holdout in this scenario. Kelly wanted to talk to me about Paul and I’m the one who refused to listen to her, was quick to judge. And yet, Kelly knows I don’t like him. Even though my opinion doesn’t matter in Kelly’s relationship, the fact that she went out with Paul before talking to me about it first really hurt. Shouldn’t my feelings regarding him matter somewhat, especially since I had the misfortune of growing up with him?
I wish I could answer the question, but all my mental capabilities are being focused on my finals coming up. Winter quarter is coming to a close and I need to get my shit together if I’m going to maintain my 3.8 GPA. I would have had a 4.0 if I didn’t have strep throat during a midterm for my previous Statistics class, and my professor wouldn’t let me make up the test even though I had a doctor’s note. But I suppose that’s neither here nor there.
And on top of finals, I still have to work at Penguin’s. Hannah may come from a wealthy family so she could take twenty credits and not worry about paying rent and a third of the utilities, but I don’t have that luxury. And I’m not even taking twenty credits.
I hate work now. Not only because of studying pressures, but because it makes me realize just how much I miss Kelly. It’s nearly the end of March now, and spring break’s coming up. Instead of planning a vacation we’ll probably never take together, I’m talking to myself and Kelly is most likely with Paul, not even thinking about me. I hope she’s thinking about me. I hope she misses me too.
I need to apologize. I may not be able to change my disdain for Paul but maybe I could hide it. And who knows? Maybe I could get used to him, especially if I see how well he treats Kelly.
At that moment, the door opens and in walks Kelly herself. I feel myself straighten behind the counter and my breath refuses to come out. I know my eyes are hopeful but I don’t care. My pride has lasted me practically two months, but it’s been exhausting and I want my friend back. If she wants to tell me something, I’m willing to listen. And when she’s finished, I’ll apologize.
“Hey.”
The word is small coming from her lips, and she looks somewhat nervous, like she’s not quite sure how I’m going to react. I can’t blame her. She knows how stubborn I can be.
“Hey.” I smile, hoping that may put her more at ease, and I nearly jump when she smiles back.
Progress.
“Listen.” She stops and takes a breath. I realize that she’s going to ask me something and it’s something she’s obviously thought about. Oh my God, is she going to fire me? I really don’t need that right now, not when I have payments and finals I need to worry about.
“I want to ask you a favor,” she continues. “Paul’s a personal assistant to a Mrs. Judy Solomon. I’m sure he’s mentioned her in the time you guys have seen each other. Anyway, she’s opening another art gallery up in San Francisco and she wants to meet me so she’s inviting me up there for the grand opening.”
“That’s great,” I tell her, and I’m surprised to find myself happy for her. Not that I wouldn’t be anyway, but if she can find happiness with someone like Paul, who am I to try and make her give that up?
“I know.” She takes a step forward. “Ronnie, I miss us. I miss our friendship. I know that you were only trying to look out for me—”
I cut her off. “Kelly, there’s no reason for you to apologize,” I tell her. “This one’s on me. I’m sorry. Just because I don’t like Paul doesn’t mean you don’t. And you were right. I
was being selfish by trying to hold you back. The world doesn’t revolve around me, no matter how badly I wish it did.” We both smile. “And if Paul makes you happy, then I’m happy for you. And I can attempt to dislike him less.”
“Really?” She seems so surprised by that that I can’t help but feel even worse about not being more open to it in the first place. “Oh, that’s wonderful Ronnie, because he really is so good to me, and I’m sure you’ll see him differently. Not that I changed him or anything, but he is better.”
“What’s the favor you want to ask me?” I ask. “To try and like Paul?”
“Oh.” She stops herself, frowning a bit. “No. Ronnie, I would never force you to like someone you don’t. I just wanted you to respect my decision is all. But no, that’s not the favor. Paul and I are going to San Fran in order to meet Mrs. Solomon, and I was hoping you would come with me. Paul has already agreed to it, and he’s agreed to pay for half the hotel room cost. We’re flying on Southwest Airlines so it’s cheap, and you won’t miss any school—we’ve arranged to go for the week of spring break.” She looks at me with those wide eyes of hers. “Well? Will you do it? Will you come?”
I know I should think about it, especially considering how poor I am. But I don’t. “I suppose so,” I agree.
What can I say? I’ve learned that friends make sacrifices for other friends, no matter how excruciatingly painful the experience will most likely be.
Chapter 11
Spring break comes fast, which is something I’m grateful for. I’ve already registered for my next quarter’s classes and bought the books that are required for each class as well. All I have to do now is try and not stress over the grades that have yet to be posted and enjoy myself up in Frisco. That last part is going to be harder than it sounds because while I have my best friend back, I highly expect her to be by Paul’s side the entire time we’re up there. I don’t hold this against her in the slightest though, because Kelly’s been worrying about whether or not Mrs. Solomon will like her. I try to reassure her but that task is practically impossible. Though I don’t say it, Paul seems like the kind of guy who would dump a girl if his precious Mrs. Solomon told him to.
Prick.
The flight up to Frisco is, surprisingly enough, relaxing. We fly out of John Wayne Airport, which is in Orange County so we don’t have to worry about LA traffic, and the flight itself is just under an hour. Paul actually offers Kelly the window seat, but she takes the middle one, an indirect action to keep Paul and I separated because she knows there’s only so much of him I can take. My iPod is in my ears the entire time, Kelly’s reading, and Paul is writing some schedule for the evening.
After arriving in San Francisco’s International Airport, we pick up our luggage at the baggage claim. Paul then tells us that the hotel’s about twenty minutes away, and suggests that since we’re a bit late in regards to his self-composed schedule, we should hail a taxi rather than try and experiment with the BART. I do want to test the BART out because I hear it’s like a subway, but it’s not underground. I’ve always liked subways and wished southern California had that as a public transportation option, but I highly doubt that will happen anytime soon.
“So,” I begin once we’re outside. Paul’s a few feet away from us, trying to catch a cab, leaving Kelly and I alone. “What’s the plan, exactly? Chill for a while at the hotel and then leave for this gallery thing or what?”
“The invitation says the opening doesn’t start until eight o’clock,” Kelly tells me, and I get the feeling that the words leaving her lips aren’t hers at all, but Paul’s constant recital of them in order to drill them into her head. “However, Paul can’t be sure if he’s going to be called in early, which means we’ll all be called in early, so he wants everyone to be ready by five o’clock sharp.”
I take out my phone in order to check the time. “He realizes that’s in an hour, right?” I ask.
Kelly shrugs, a tiny smile on her face. “I know,” she says with a nod. “He’s always worrying. I think it’s kind of cute.”
“Kelly,” I say, trying to get her to focus. “Let’s say that miracles do happen, and I get ready by five. What if Mrs. Solomon doesn’t call Paul at all? That means I’ll be sitting around watching TV in a dress while trying not to spill anything on it. It’s the only dress I brought and I highly doubt they’ll let me in wearing jeans.”
“Just don’t eat anything,” Kelly says as though the answer is so obvious.
Clearly, Kelly doesn’t realize, after years of friendship, that I’m pretty much always hungry and me not eating in the next hour will mean I’ll be stuffing my face at the gala, and she really doesn’t want that, does she?
“You can’t control yourself just this once?” Kelly asks with an arched brow. I give her a look and she shakes her head like I’m some kind of child who has to go to the bathroom constantly and can’t continue to hold it. “Why don’t you chew on ice and pretend it’s a cheeseburger?”
“Oh yeah,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “Like that’s going to work. Cheeseburgers, for one, have cheese on them.”
“Ladies!” Paul shouts. We both turn and find that he has a taxi waiting for us with the trunk already open for our luggage. “Come, come! We have to go, or we’ll be late!”
“Late for the hotel?” I mutter under my breath.
Kelly refuses to acknowledge my retort. “Has she called, hon?” she asks as we head over to the cab.
“Not yet,” Paul replies and takes the responsibility of loading our luggage in the trunk. “But that doesn’t mean she won’t.”
And just like that, we head off to the hotel.
* * *
Despite the fact that Paul and Kelly’s room is adjacent to mine, I can’t help but be excited at the prospect. This room is the room I’ll be staying in for a week. Paul may be a douche, but he’s a douche with connections. While Paul was checking us in, he dropped Mrs. Solomon’s name, and we were upgraded to suites.
I’m stoked.
My luggage is in the closet and I plop on the couch and grab a remote. Though we haven’t traveled very far, the last week has really done a number on my sleeping schedule. Might as well relax while I can before the dragon woman—what Kelly calls Mrs. Solomon when she’s sure Paul isn’t around—rings. I know it’s practically five, but I highly doubt that she’ll call, knowing we’ve just settled in.
I’m flipping through the channels, but it’s hard to find a decent show on Sunday evening so I leave it on HBO. Just as a rerun of True Blood starts, someone starts pounding on my door. I pick myself up and look through the peephole. When I see a half made-up Kelly, my heart stops.
“What’s up?” I ask after I open the door.
“You’re not dressed?” she all but shrieks after I’ve closed the door. “We have to leave in ten minutes!”
“How was I supposed to know that?” I ask in the same tone.
I dash off to my closet, hoping the dress I’m preparing to wear tonight isn’t too wrinkled. I open my bag, discarding unnecessary clothing until I find the dress, and then run to the bathroom.
I don’t think I’ve ever changed this fast in my entire life. Without Kelly’s help, I highly doubt I would have met Paul’s deadline, but she assists me with my hair and makeup, and after I slip on a pair of high heels, we throw ourselves out my door. My stomach is screeching in pain at how neglected it feels, especially when we head out of the lobby and a fresh batch of cookies have been made with a sign next to it, saying “Please take one! Compliments of the staff.”
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a moist chocolate chip cookie until that moment.
“There’s going to be food at this thing, right?” I ask Paul once we cram into the back of another cab.
“Hors d’oeuvres,” he tells me.
“Wait, it’s five thirty,” I say. “She’s not even going to provide us with dinner?”
Kelly shakes her head as subtly as she can, her eyes telling me to shut up.
“Mrs. Solomon can’t be bothered to provide dinner,” Paul says. “She’s very stressed about this particular event. I can’t even say if she’s eaten at all or not.”
I want to tell him that I’m sure as hell not stressed about the gallery opening, and I don’t think it would take up too much time if we stopped at some fast food joint to grab a cheeseburger, but I don’t. I look at Kelly as if to tell her, “See? I am trying.” She smiles and nods, thanking me in her own silent way.
The drive isn’t very long, but the traffic here’s not the best. As we drive, I look out my window and try and take in the sights. I’ve only been up here a few times; my father’s parents live in Oakland, but I haven’t seen them in a while. San Francisco always gives me this artsy feeling but an I’m-an-artist-and-way-better-than-you kind of vibe. I also think they hate on people from Orange County because Orange County is predominantly Republican. Like that’s my fault. I’m registered as an American Independent, thank you very much. Plus, I’ve never seen as many homeless people as I do on the streets of San Francisco. I feel bad for all of them and wonder where they go when it’s time for sleep. But it’s the perfect place to open up an art gallery, I have to admit.
“Hey,” I say as we drive down the wharf. “Are we going to have time to visit Alcatraz while we’re up here?”
“Why would anyone want to visit Alcatraz?” Paul asks me.
“Not only is it an historic landmark and a crucial part of our criminal justice system,” I tell him in a firm voice, “but it housed a slew of gangsters from the 1920s and 30s including Al Capone, Machine Gun Kelly, and my personal favorite, Alvin Karpis.”
“You would have a personal favorite gangster,” Kelly says, shooting me a knowing smile. “Whatever happened to Dillinger?”
Four Sides of an Attitude: A Cufflinks & Austen Novel Page 10
