go with what’s good for me for a change.
Luca and Sophia meet up three times this week. They’ve hit the one-month mark, an occasion Sophia insists they commemorate with a dinner out, and Luca indulges her. When she’s with him, another side of her comes out. It’s a reminder she didn’t grow up with a father to indulge her every whim, to sit with her and have a pretend tea party, or to warn her dates to bring her home by nine.
I can still remember six months after Sophia and I had met and become best friends, the way she told me her dad had died in a drunk driving accident… where he was the drunk driver. Her mother, Sarah, had come into preschool, where Sophia was busy coloring butterflies, and broke the bad news. It wasn’t until much, much later that Sophia learned the truth: her father was a secret alcoholic. No one had even had a clue until the day he died.
She hasn’t trusted many people since. Sure, she’s had her share of breakups, but she’s never allowed herself to fall deeply enough for someone to trust them to catch her.
“You make your own luck. There is no fairy tale,” she’d said then, matter-of-factly.
After their celebratory Thai dinner date, she pulls on Luca’s arm and allows herself to be childish, whining about how she wants chocolate cake for dessert, or playfully telling him to skip his review session to spend the night. Now, the cracks burst in the façade of her former self. They’ve progressed from the awkward giddiness to not minding if he catches her flossing her teeth or she sees him wearing the same shirt twice in a row. Normally, I’d imagine that takes months, but they’ve jet-setted from casual dating to bonafide ‘it’ couple before I can blink my eyes, spending every weekend together. This time, it’s different. Sophia isn’t holding back. Whether I can do the same is a whole different story.
“Nithya?” A soft knock on my door Friday night, five days after the wedding, has me looking up from my computer.
“Do you want to go out tonight?” she asks, hopefully.
“Oh… What did you have in mind?”
“Luca and James are having a party at their apartment. They invited us.”
“Us? Or you with me tagging along?” I look at her suspiciously. It wouldn’t be beyond her to orchestrate a setup, but she giggles and raises her hands in surrender. She loves the idea of the two of us, best friends forever, dating a sexy set of roommates.
“I swear, Luca said both of our names and told me to tell you to come!” Her blue eyes look like lightning in a bottle, both daring and pleading with me.
Just to prove I’m not overanalyzing or even thinking of James, I say yes.
The apartment is crammed, and the music thumps against my eardrums. The wall where I collapsed and cried is right in front of me. The counter where James sat when I stumbled into the living room is lined with oblivious strangers. It’s like a secret–it puts me at ease that no one knows any of the history here, and the world can keep turning… but it’s a little isolating, too; a feeling I didn’t expect.
James leans against the wall, farther down the hallway near his room, and chats up a beautiful brunette. His silver watch gleams in the dim light as he gesticulates, beer in hand. When he laughs, he tilts his head back. He’s playful; he makes faces and animatedly widens his eyes. The girl he’s with crosses and uncrosses her long legs as she stands next to him, touching his arm when she finds his jokes funny. The intimacy hurts my heart… like I’m an outsider to something I so desperately want to be a part of. I can’t even explain why James tugs at my heartstrings–I hardly know him. Being saved by him, sharing a few laughs… that doesn’t a love make. It doesn’t amount to anything. But here I am, captivated. He’s with a girl, probably someone he’s seeing, and I didn’t know. It reminds me of how far out of his circle I am. And how silly it is to wish I wasn’t.
I pour
Luca and Sophia meet up three times this week. They’ve hit the one-month mark, an occasion Sophia insists they commemorate with a dinner out, and Luca indulges her. When she’s with him, another side of her comes out. It’s a reminder she didn’t grow up with a father to indulge her every whim, to sit with her and have a pretend tea party, or to warn her dates to bring her home by nine.
I can still remember six months after Sophia and I had met and become best friends, the way she told me her dad had died in a drunk driving accident… where he was the drunk driver. Her mother, Sarah, had come into preschool, where Sophia was busy coloring butterflies, and broke the bad news. It wasn’t until much, much later that Sophia learned the truth: her father was a secret alcoholic. No one had even had a clue until the day he died.
She hasn’t trusted many people since. Sure, she’s had her share of breakups, but she’s never allowed herself to fall deeply enough for someone to trust them to catch her.
“You make your own luck. There is no fairy tale,” she’d said then, matter-of-factly.
After their celebratory Thai dinner date, she pulls on Luca’s arm and allows herself to be childish, whining about how she wants chocolate cake for dessert, or playfully telling him to skip his review session to spend the night. Now, the cracks burst in the façade of her former self. They’ve progressed from the awkward giddiness to not minding if he catches her flossing her teeth or she sees him wearing the same shirt twice in a row. Normally, I’d imagine that takes months, but they’ve jet-setted from casual dating to bonafide ‘it’ couple before I can blink my eyes, spending every weekend together. This time, it’s different. Sophia isn’t holding back. Whether I can do the same is a whole different story.
“Nithya?” A soft knock on my door Friday night, five days after the wedding, has me looking up from my computer.
“Do you want to go out tonight?” she asks, hopefully.
“Oh… What did you have in mind?”
“Luca and James are having a party at their apartment. They invited us.”
“Us? Or you with me tagging along?” I look at her suspiciously. It wouldn’t be beyond her to orchestrate a setup, but she giggles and raises her hands in surrender. She loves the idea of the two of us, best friends forever, dating a sexy set of roommates.
“I swear, Luca said both of our names and told me to tell you to come!” Her blue eyes look like lightning in a bottle, both daring and pleading with me.
Just to prove I’m not overanalyzing or even thinking of James, I say yes.
The apartment is crammed, and the music thumps against my eardrums. The wall where I collapsed and cried is right in front of me. The counter where James sat when I stumbled into the living room is lined with oblivious strangers. It’s like a secret–it puts me at ease that no one knows any of the history here, and the world can keep turning… but it’s a little isolating, too; a feeling I didn’t expect.
James leans against the wall, farther down the hallway near his room, and chats up a beautiful brunette. His silver watch gleams in the dim light as he gesticulates, beer in hand. When he laughs, he tilts his head back. He’s playful; he makes faces and animatedly widens his eyes. The girl he’s with crosses and uncrosses her long legs as she stands next to him, touching his arm when she finds his jokes funny. The intimacy hurts my heart… like I’m an outsider to something I so desperately want to be a part of. I can’t even explain why James tugs at my heartstrings–I hardly know him. Being saved by him, sharing a few laughs… that doesn’t a love make. It doesn’t amount to anything. But here I am, captivated. He’s with a girl, probably someone he’s seeing, and I didn’t know. It reminds me of how far out of his circle I am. And how silly it is to wish I wasn’t.
I pour
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