lights are on at Reese’s when I pull up.
Reese has a serious boyfriend, so I don’t see her as often as I used to when we were freshmen, but we’ve remained close. Conveniently, she found a job on campus after graduation and still lives in town, while most of my friends have moved on to greener pastures.
Reese answers the door to her apartment in black skinny jeans, heels, and a designer sequined top.
“Bow-chica-bow-wow,” I singsong. “Going out?”
She drags me inside. “Yes, and you are too.”
“Actually—” I stop in the middle of her simple living room, consisting of a plain, muted brown couch, a coffee table, and a television. It always amazes me that someone as fashionable as Reese lives in a place without flair, but her roommate is down-to-earth and Reese’s aesthetic obsessions tend toward clothing and accessories. “—I was planning on finding Eric, then crashing early.”
Reese’s roommate Elena waves to me from the kitchen, her dark, wavy hair pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head. She’s in flannel pajama bottoms and a ribbed tank top, stirring something that smells like beef stew in a large pot. My mouth waters. I wouldn’t mind throwing on flannel PJs, forgetting this whole confronting Eric business, and joining her.
Reese studies my face. “What’s going on? I figured when you asked to stay here instead of with Eric, something was up.”
“To be honest, I don’t know what’s going on.” Which means there’s a strong possibility I’ll be making a butter pecan run in the near future.
“Okay.” Her eyes narrow. “So what’s your plan?”
“Find him and figure it out?” Then eat my weight in butter pecan?
I’m pretty sure I know what Eric’s going to say, but I still need to hear it. When your boyfriend doesn’t call for a month, doesn’t return your calls, and doesn’t appear to care whether you breathe—what was that ingenious book title?—oh yeah, He’s Just Not That Into You . There’s no sense in pretending everything’s okay, because it’s not.
Reese drums her multicolored nails against her lips— are those rhinestones on the tips? “What do you think about going to a bar?”
My upper lip curls. “Umm—”
“I only suggest it because I’ve seen Eric out a few times. Some of my co-workers have run into him at the bars too.”
Okay, that’s weird. I have no flippin’ clue where Reese works on campus. She’s vague about it. “Your co-workers know him?”
She waves her hand absently. “Never mind that. The point is, you might have better luck running him to ground at a bar.”
And doesn’t that just sound depressing? I have to hunt my boyfriend down to get him to dump me. “I guess that’s as good a plan as any.”
A sad smile crosses her face. “Let’s try Big Billy’s. It’s the new hotspot on Friday nights.” She scans my outfit. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but … did you bring anything else to wear?”
I glance at the baggy jeans and T-shirt I threw on for the drive. “Are you trying to tell me I look like crap?”
“If things are as bad as I think they are between you and Eric, you should look hot. Make him see what he’s missing.”
Hot. Jaeger makes me feel hot, and desirable, but my boyfriend doesn’t. Something’s wrong with that picture. “Okay.” My voice comes out weak and sad. When did I become this broken, pitiful thing?
“So, what did you pack?”
I pick at my T-shirt.
She shakes her head and grabs my wrist. “Come on, we’ll raid my closet. My mom just sent a batch of new clothes from Rodeo Drive.”
I forgot how rich Reese’s Hollywood parents are. This should be interesting.
An hour later, I’m dressed in a black mini, a butterfly-style top, and five-inch heels, entering Big Billy’s. My old college town is small, but you’d be surprised how dressed up people get. The clothes I’m wearing are mild compared to the short, sequined ensembles blinding me.
Reese and I squeeze
Reese has a serious boyfriend, so I don’t see her as often as I used to when we were freshmen, but we’ve remained close. Conveniently, she found a job on campus after graduation and still lives in town, while most of my friends have moved on to greener pastures.
Reese answers the door to her apartment in black skinny jeans, heels, and a designer sequined top.
“Bow-chica-bow-wow,” I singsong. “Going out?”
She drags me inside. “Yes, and you are too.”
“Actually—” I stop in the middle of her simple living room, consisting of a plain, muted brown couch, a coffee table, and a television. It always amazes me that someone as fashionable as Reese lives in a place without flair, but her roommate is down-to-earth and Reese’s aesthetic obsessions tend toward clothing and accessories. “—I was planning on finding Eric, then crashing early.”
Reese’s roommate Elena waves to me from the kitchen, her dark, wavy hair pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head. She’s in flannel pajama bottoms and a ribbed tank top, stirring something that smells like beef stew in a large pot. My mouth waters. I wouldn’t mind throwing on flannel PJs, forgetting this whole confronting Eric business, and joining her.
Reese studies my face. “What’s going on? I figured when you asked to stay here instead of with Eric, something was up.”
“To be honest, I don’t know what’s going on.” Which means there’s a strong possibility I’ll be making a butter pecan run in the near future.
“Okay.” Her eyes narrow. “So what’s your plan?”
“Find him and figure it out?” Then eat my weight in butter pecan?
I’m pretty sure I know what Eric’s going to say, but I still need to hear it. When your boyfriend doesn’t call for a month, doesn’t return your calls, and doesn’t appear to care whether you breathe—what was that ingenious book title?—oh yeah, He’s Just Not That Into You . There’s no sense in pretending everything’s okay, because it’s not.
Reese drums her multicolored nails against her lips— are those rhinestones on the tips? “What do you think about going to a bar?”
My upper lip curls. “Umm—”
“I only suggest it because I’ve seen Eric out a few times. Some of my co-workers have run into him at the bars too.”
Okay, that’s weird. I have no flippin’ clue where Reese works on campus. She’s vague about it. “Your co-workers know him?”
She waves her hand absently. “Never mind that. The point is, you might have better luck running him to ground at a bar.”
And doesn’t that just sound depressing? I have to hunt my boyfriend down to get him to dump me. “I guess that’s as good a plan as any.”
A sad smile crosses her face. “Let’s try Big Billy’s. It’s the new hotspot on Friday nights.” She scans my outfit. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but … did you bring anything else to wear?”
I glance at the baggy jeans and T-shirt I threw on for the drive. “Are you trying to tell me I look like crap?”
“If things are as bad as I think they are between you and Eric, you should look hot. Make him see what he’s missing.”
Hot. Jaeger makes me feel hot, and desirable, but my boyfriend doesn’t. Something’s wrong with that picture. “Okay.” My voice comes out weak and sad. When did I become this broken, pitiful thing?
“So, what did you pack?”
I pick at my T-shirt.
She shakes her head and grabs my wrist. “Come on, we’ll raid my closet. My mom just sent a batch of new clothes from Rodeo Drive.”
I forgot how rich Reese’s Hollywood parents are. This should be interesting.
An hour later, I’m dressed in a black mini, a butterfly-style top, and five-inch heels, entering Big Billy’s. My old college town is small, but you’d be surprised how dressed up people get. The clothes I’m wearing are mild compared to the short, sequined ensembles blinding me.
Reese and I squeeze
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