“A party you helped organise and then failed to show up to,” he cries. “I don’t understand why you bailed on me at the last minute.”
His raised voice has me glancing around the cafe. I’ve made my peace with standing out in a crowd, but I prefer to do it on my own terms. Being reamed before an audience doesn’t appeal. “You had a gazillion other people there to celebrate with you,” I point out in a much lower voice. “Honestly, as inseparable as you and Leif are, I’m surprised you even noticed my absence.”
“Of course, I noticed,” he grouches before pausing to take a deep breath in, followed by a slow release. “It was an important night for me, Toni. I wanted you to be there.”
The unyielding force of his glare makes my skin prickle uncomfortably. What does he want me to say? That I didn’t want to go to his stupid party and watch him being deliriously happy while I stood alone on the sidelines? As if I need more reminding of how utterly single I am. How single I’ve always been. It’s not my fault no one can handle what I have to offer.
When I got dressed that night, I fully intended to go straight to Rodney and Leif’s new apartment. I was dreading the party itself, but I’d put a lot of effort into helping him with the preparations and I wanted to make sure everything went off without a hitch. Then, a different friend sent a text inviting me to a spontaneous party at his place. I figured it couldn’t hurt to do a flyby. Maybe even manage to pick myself up a date for the evening.
It didn’t take long to scope out the potentials and settle on my target. Larry was big and muscular, with a tipsy grin and easy eyes. He would have made the perfect date, if he hadn’t decided to spend the drive to Rodney’s place spilling his guts about his recent break up with the supposed love of his life. I’d listened, and pretended to care, in the hopes he’d get it out of his system before we reached our destination. He didn’t.
When it became clear Larry would spend the night drowning his sorrows in more beer, I turned the car around and drove his inebriated arse straight home. By the time I got back to Rodney’s for the second time, it was nearly eleven and I’d been stewing in my foul mood for over an hour. I sat in the car for a while, trying to come up with a decent excuse for my tardiness—one that didn’t involve pilfering a drunken stranger from someone else’s party, so I’d have a date. I came up empty.
If I’d gone inside then, and had to face Rodney’s annoyance… well, let’s just say I would have been in danger of ripping open my sealed section and shoving its contents right in his loved-up face.
In the end, I’d decided dealing with his disappointment was vastly preferable to enduring his total mortification at all the parts of me he claims to want to see. I went home.
Of course, now I’m forced to witness his hurt and confusion, I can’t help feeling bad. Sitting up straight in my chair, I swallow past the lump in my throat and prepare to dish out some actual sincerity. “All right, Rodney. I’m sorry I let you down. Next time you have a party, I promise I’ll be the first person there and the last to leave.”
A slow smile spreads across Rodney’s face and he nods. “I’m going to hold you to that.” His sudden smugness gives me pause, but he goes back to savouring his pie without another word.
I eat a bite of warm, buttery bread, watching him closely as I chew and swallow. “I’m forgiven, then?”
He tilts his head from side to side in a vague gesture. “You’re getting there, but I want my second course before I make a final decision.”
My hand tightens around the curve of my coffee cup. I should have known a simple gesture wouldn’t be enough to buy back Rodney’s affections. Pushing away my half-eaten plate, I resign myself to adding the extra dose of fabulous I have up my sleeve. “How about I take you and Leif to see Fifth Circle at The Claremont tomorrow night? Would that get me over the line?”
Rodney laughs out loud. “Undoubtedly, but those tickets sold out before I even knew they were available. There’s no chance.”
I give him a patient smile and wait for the penny to drop.
A moment later, his mouth falls open. “Are you kidding me? You have tickets?”
“Provided by Ned Corbyn himself.” I pull out my phone and open the text Ned sent me, complete with the QR codes for the tickets.
Gasping, Rodney grabs the phone so he can take a closer look. “Oh my god, this is so exciting. How did it happen?”
“You remember when I helped Logan with the Fifth Circle website a few months ago?” I’d bragged to Rodney about it at the time, because he’s a fan and I wanted to see him turn pea-green with envy. He’d happily obliged. What else are friends for?
“Ned was ever so grateful for my input,” I continue. “He offered me the tickets as a thank you.” In truth, Ned seemed pissed off about the stellar quality of the new site, which makes no sense, but whatever. The tickets are real.
The way Ned looked at me when we first spoke was real, too. The focus in his clear, green eyes as his gaze meandered slowly down over the full length of my body. I shiver. The man made me feel like… Rodney’s whipped cream.
“I give in,” Rodney cries, lifting his hands in surrender. “You are completely, one hundred percent forgiven. This is, like, the best engagement present ever.”
“Finally,” I say, heaving a sigh, right before those last few words kick in. “Wait, what?”
The smile on Rodney’s face grows wider, until I worry about the integrity of his cheeks. “That’s why I’m upset about you not showing up on Saturday night. It wasn’t just a housewarming. Leif and I announced our engagement.” He grabs on to the edge of the table, causing the dishes to rattle in surprise. “We’re getting married.”
“You’re fucking what?” The words snap out of me before I even think to hold them back. Rodney’s smile wavers. He blinks, his brightness dimming ever so slightly. I’m about to end up back in the shit tin. “That’s amazing,” I cry, yanking the corners of my mouth upwards as I leap from my chair and hold my arms out. “Congratulations.”
Releasing a breath, Rodney stands to hug me. “Thank you. It is amazing.”
We retake our seats, and I ignore the ache in my gut as I force myself to run through the litany of appropriate questions. When did it happen? How? Which one of them popped the question? Rodney happily answers every query with excruciating detail and much gushing. They have yet to set a date for the wedding, but the engagement party is in about six weeks. “And not only will you show up this time,” he adds with a pointed look, “but you’ll be the first person to arrive and the last to leave.”
Kill me now. I really do have to go. It’s not the sort of party I can miss if I still want to have a friend at the end of it.
“Leif is going to be thrilled about the concert. I played the Fifth Circle EP for him last month when we drove up to Maleny to visit the craft shops, and he totally freaked out about it.” Now Rodney’s over his pique, he appears content to babble away in his usual enthusiastic manner. I nod and smile and try not to scream out loud about the total bitch slap that is his engagement.
