Lizzie:Stop it right now.
Olive:Oh…this is fantastic.
Lizzie:Well, there goes the introduction I hoped for.
Lizzie:I’ll live through you, I guess.
Lizzie:How’s the sex?
Lizzie:ooo, wait, how big is he?
Lizzie:Actually, now that I’m thinking about it…you were walking slightly lopsided at the Wingrove wedding.
Olive:She was too!
“Are you happy with yourself, Cassandra?” I ask, watching as my best friend struggles to breathe through her laughter. Her face is beet red.
“You have no idea. Besides, you threw Olive under the bus, I figured I would return the favor.”
She’s right. I deserve it.
Me:You guys are annoying.
I send the text, throw my phone across to the other side of my couch with my best friend. There’s ice-cold drinks on the coffee table in front of us, and the new season of our favorite reality dating showHate or Date meready and waiting for us to watch.
We somehow manage to get through the first episode with minimal pauses for discussion, until finally she breaks the silence, and it’s not about the show.
“What if he wants a repeat? He’s already told everyone you’re his girlfriend. What if he’s done that so the two of you can make love without anyone thinking anything of it? Oooh! Maybe he wants to hold your hand in public, and kiss you hello or goodbye in front of people and have no one question it. Oh, I think I like him.” Cassandra swoons, and I think if I rolled my eyes any further into the back of my head, I’d be able to see my brain. I want no part in this conversation, but I fear I have no choice.
“You realize you just swooned over an interaction you created in your head, right?” I ask her, taking a small sip of water before placing the glass back down onto the table. She’s either still deeply in her honeymoon phase with Harley, or she’s balls deep in a romance novel where the man is doing everything he can to impress his girl.
“Did I, Jenna?” She awkwardly sits up to lean forward, blinking rapidly at me. I shove at her shoulders to playfully force her back down.
“Even if those types of interactions happened in real life, we both know they’d never happen in a scenario that involves me.” I take another sip. I’ve never been in the type of relationship where any man would want to hold my hand in public, or kiss me hello and goodbye. Especially in front of other people. Why start now? I reach for the remote that she holds against her chest, but her grip is so tight.
“Why do you do that?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. Her long, brown hair sits in a braid over her shoulder, while she eyes me cautiously.
“Do what, Cassandra? Please explain to me what it is you think I do.” I turn toward her as she sits up, and this time I let her. I watch as she crosses her arms over her chest, and tucks her feet underneath her thighs.
“You think you’re not worthy of anything other than a one-night stand, because somewhere along the way you got it in your head that no one wants anything more from you, other than your body. You’vesomehowconvinced yourself that your body is all that’s of value, and the only thing you have to give. You’re not your mom, Jen.”
We sit in silence for a beat while I mull over what she just said to me. I know she’s right, but it doesn’t mean I’m able to just flick a switch and suddenly have every doubt and insecurity scrubbed clean.
My mother ingrained that shit deep into every crevice of my mind and body. It’s going to take a lot more than the words of my best friend, and some guy who made me feel good about myself for one night, to undo all the damage that’s already there.
“I know I’m not her. I could never be Becky Rogers. That woman is who the Rogers curse—”
“Is named after. Yes, I’m aware. But you do realize that curses don’t actually exist, right? You’re smarter than that. Stop using it as an excuse to not let yourself at least beopento meeting someone,” she presses me with logic, and I roll my eyes. We have this exact conversation whenever I meet anyone new who could potentially want something more from me other than sex, but I never have it in me to want to try.
“And you’re aware that Ilikethe way my life is, right? Just because you’re happily married, C, doesn’t mean I want to be.” I lean over to take the remote from her, and this time she gives it to me.
“Fine.” She raises her hands in defeat. “But I know you, Jen. And I know the way you talk about people you like and people you don’t. Your words might say that you want nothing from him, but your blushing cheeks and your lack of eye contact tell me a completely different story.” She shrugs, and I bring my hands to cover my face, which forces a laugh out of her. It eases the tension between us, thankfully. “Three months of seeing his handsome face every single day. Your hands running through and touching his hair every day. Your face up close and personal with his? I love you, Jen, but there is absolutely nowayyou’ll be able to keep it in your pants. Harley met him earlier, and apparently, the first thing he did was ask about you.”
I hate that her last sentence made me want to call her husband and hound him with questions.
What did he say?
Who was he with?
