“Then it’d be called lunch and would lose all the appeal.” Simone hands me a coffee and I want to hug her. If it didn’t require so much movement.
She’s always pleasant and happy. I didn’t know what to do with her for a while. The first time Aspen brought Simone to one of our brunches I thought she’d run screaming for the hills, or from the hill since in warmer weather we used to meet at Buena Vista Park. Before Aspen decided fifty degrees is too cold for her delicate southern California body. When Simone made it through the first meeting, I knew she had solid girlfriend potential. Later when she lost her mom to ovarian cancer and we flew to New York for the funeral, I knew we’d keep her forever.
“Why were you up late?” Aspen asks from her spot on the couch. She might have problems walking on two feet, but the chick never misses a beat when I’m trying to gloss over a topic.
Her pink tennis shoes become the most interesting object in the room as I search them for an easy answer. In the end I’m too tired and resign myself to go with the truth. She’ll get it out of me one way or another anyway. This saves time. "Ryland and I played Dragons Reborn. Simone, can you pass me a fork please?”
I reach for the fork Simone passes over to me with her lips pressed together, and I refuse to make eye contact. Every Sunday since Aspen moved to San Francisco last June, we’ve gathered together for the delectable delight that is Zazie’s Tahiti French toast. Two thick pieces of toast sit below a split banana with chocolate syrup and caramel running down the sides to pool at the bottom of the white Styrofoam container. The sweet cinnamon smell — one of my favorites — replaces the lingering smell of BO from the cab ride here, and I sigh in relief.
“Are you done?” Aspen taps her fork against her own white container. “Or should you and the French toast find a room?”
Leaning back against the sofa to get comfortable, I shake my head at the conquest for information that’s about to come. “Yeah, I guess. Let’s get it over with."
“How long were you with Ryland?” Simone asks the first question.
“A few hours. Grant was there earlier and I stayed later to keep playing.”
“Did you…” Aspen waves her hand in the air. “You know… in the bedroom?”
“Did we have sex, Aspen? No.” I roll my eyes at her continued refusal to say sex in public.
“Make out?” She leans forward in her chair waiting for my answer.
“Nope.” It’s an honest reply. Last night’s kiss was definitely not a make out.
“Hmmm.” She examines me, looking for a crack in my story I’m sure. “Did you fall asleep next to him while playing?”
“Um… no. I went home and slept in my own bed.” I quirk an eyebrow at her knowing full well it drives her nuts because she can't do it.
I circle the group with my eyes waiting for the next girl to shout out a question — Amanda’s known for her random outbursts — but they're quiet. Someone should write this down. It’s a first for us.
Aspen turns her conspicuous look from me long enough to take a bite of her French toast and settles back on the couch all nonchalant, but I know better. She’s already planned her next attack. “So you played Dragons Reborn?”
I breathe deeply glad to be over the kissing questions. “Yeah. Kind of.” Another honest answer. Aspen’s a true DR nerd. Now she'll understand. “He said I needed to learn how to play so I’d appreciate the finer details of the game.”
Her expression slowly turns to a small smirk as she blows my confidence to smithereens. “He likes you.”
“What?” I chew quickly and swallow before allowing my mouth to drop open. How in the heck did we go from playing a video game together to Ryland liking me? Now I’m extra thankful I didn’t tell her about the kiss. “No he doesn’t.”
Okay, yes we kissed… twice, but they didn’t mean anything. Ryland’s a soccer star… in England. He’s a known playboy and partier. He beats up goalies in bars. Just because I haven’t seen him drink a drop of alcohol or have a girl over doesn’t mean anything, and it certainly doesn’t mean one simple kiss meant more to him. Those kinds of thoughts are the ones that get a girl’s heart broken.
“Listen, Marissa, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from Finn it’s that when a guy asks you to learn how to play his favorite game, it means he likes you.”
Simone nods her head in agreement and I bite my cheek. Okay, kissing aside, could it be possible Ryland likes me? I can’t imagine many of his super model girlfriends sat around killing rats in caves with him until midnight on a Friday night. Am I considered one of the guys or more?
“It’s true,” Simone chips in. “Trey loves it when I play Dragons Reborn with him. It’s kind of fun.” She shrugs.
I shake my head in denial for my own benefit over theirs. “I don’t think so, guys. I’ve known him like a week.”
Simone sighs one of those lovey-dovey sounds and we turn to her. “I’m pretty sure it took me less than three days to fall in love with Trey, but much longer for me to admit it.”
I continue shaking my head worried they aren’t buying my refusal. “Besides Ryland isn’t even my type.”
“What is your type of guy?” Amanda leans forward getting into the conversation and now everyone is enthralled.
“Why? No more blind dates.” I give Aspen my best one-eyed glare.
She throws her free hand up in defense, her other still holding the container of half-eaten French toast. “Hey, Rebecca said he was cool. I just passed on the information.”
