While my mom was busy picking out some new bras and underwear at Victoria’s Secret, I took the opportunity to pick out some items for myself. I had to make sure that my mother didn’t see me choosing several lacy pairs of panties and matching push-up bras. Holding up a pair of see-through underwear, I imagined Clay taking them off of me and my blood heated up. Yep, I was getting these for sure. I surreptitiously paid for the items and then hid the bright-pink bag in my purse.
Saturday morning, Rachel came over and helped me pack for our night away. She oohed and aahed over the new clothes I had gotten, calling dibs on the cute black off-the-shoulder top my mom had picked out. It was the first time in weeks that I had felt that old ease and normalcy in our relationship. I was convinced tonight would be just what I needed. Not only because I would have time with Clay, but because I could repair my relationships with my friends.
“Your mom has some serious style, Mags,” Rachel commented, stuffing the black top into my overnight bag. I found my super-snug skinny jeans and put them in the bag as well.
“Yeah, she dresses way better than I do,” I admitted, rummaging through my underwear drawer and pulling out several pairs of bras and panties that I had chosen yesterday.
“Wow, so, you and Clay. Alone. All night. Are you ready for that?” Rachel asked me, chewing on her bottom lip in a way that indicated she was nervous.
“Shh,” I hissed, closing my bedroom door.
“Sorry,” Rachel said, lowering her voice.
“I don’t know, Rache. I do know that I love him and he loves me. And whatever happens, happens,” I said determinedly. Rachel picked at her nails.
“Well, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Don’t let a guy make you feel like you should, you know?” I knew what she was getting at. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she was telling me that she worried I would be pressured to have sex. If she only knew how many times it was Clay who had called a halt to things.
“I know that. I’m not going to do anything I don’t want to do,” I assured her. Rachel nodded, apparently trying to take me at my word. Why did I get the feeling she didn’t believe me?
“This is the real deal, Rache. I love him,” I told her, sitting down on my bed. Rachel sat down beside me, put her arm around me, and laid her head on my shoulder.
“I know you do, Maggie. And I’m happy you’ve found that.” Rachel sounded genuine and I felt my stomach unclench in relief.
I leaned into her. “Thanks,” I said, and we were quiet a moment. “What about you and Daniel? Are you going to play nice this weekend?” I asked, nudging her with my shoulder.
Rachel grunted. “I’ll play nice if he plays nice,” she said tersely. I gave her arm a pinch.
“I know you’re angry with him. He hurt you. I understand how hard it is to open that part of yourself to someone. But Daniel cares about you. And maybe the timing just wasn’t right. Don’t rule it out. You guys are made for each other.”
Rachel shrugged. “I don’t know. If he could forget about Kylie for more than two minutes, maybe you’d be right.” I felt bad for her, because she was speaking the truth. “Besides, even though things are weird with us right now, he’s still one of my best friends. And as much as I fantasize about us being something else, I really don’t want to ruin our friendship,” she said wistfully.
“I know. But the best relationships are built on friendship first,” I said, zipping up my bag. Rachel shrugged again.
“I seriously doubt Daniel sees me as anything but a friend. Hell, he thought we had penises!”
I laughed, recalling that conversation clearly. But I, for one, knew that Daniel wasn’t entirely unaffected by Rachel. I had seen his eyes when he saw her in that pink sparkly dress at Fall Formal. I saw how upset he got when she was mad at him. He had feelings for her, all right. Whether he was willing to act on them was the real question.
“I just think life’s too short to get hung up on maybe’s,” I told her simply.
Rachel rolled her eyes at me. “Well, aren’t you philosophical all of a sudden? Love has turned you into Gandhi.” I laughed as I hoisted my bulging duffel bag to my shoulder and headed down the stairs.
We were still laughing as we rounded the corner into the kitchen. My mom was perched on a stool, tapping away at her laptop.
“What are you girls laughing about?” she asked, giving us a smile. I shook my head.
“Nothing, Mom,” I said offhandedly.
“Hi, Rachel! Do you girls have lots of fun planned for your evening?” my mom asked, looking at Rachel.
Rachel swallowed thickly and nodded like a puppet. “Yeah, we’re going to see a movie at eight o’clock. You know, the new Brad Pitt one that’s out. He is so hot. Even if he is a little old. I mean, who cares, when you look like that? And he and Angelina Jolie make the most perfect couple.” I elbowed Rachel in the ribs so she would stop her nervous rambling. Rachel closed her mouth and gave my mom a pained smile. There was no way my mom was going to buy this! It was too obvious we were lying!
But the teenage gods were smiling on us. My mom simply gave Rachel an odd look and then nodded. “Okay, then, have fun. Do you have your cell phone, Maggie?” she asked me. I pulled it out of my jacket pocket and waved it in front of me.
“Love you. See you tomorrow,” she said, returning her focus to whatever was on her laptop screen. Yes! Home free! I tried not to run out of the kitchen in my rush to get out of the house before she changed her mind.
Once we were in Rachel’s car and heading down the road, she let out a loud breath. “Damn, I thought for a second we were so busted.”
“I know. Especially after your fantastic monologue about the wonders of Brad Pitt. You are the worst liar!”
