Between Friends (3 page)

I shudder and
scrub myself down with my loofa. I can only hope the more water
that washes over me, will rinse away those thoughts forever. But
without any luck, by the time I am dried off and back in my bedroom
I can’t stop replaying the night in my mind. Just seeing my sheets
mangled all over my bed makes me flush and ache inside. I so
desperately want to shake away the part of me that actually
liked
what happened
between us, especially because it feels so weird and wrong. I
couldn’t possibly have feelings like that for Ben. He is my best
friend.

I brush out my
wet and tangled hair, when a memory flashes in my mind.
It was New Year’s Eve and our last year of
college. Stephanie and Michelle had somehow convinced Jessica to
ditch Michael for the night, which meant it would strictly be us
girls. Therefore, I was forced to wear stiletto heels, green eye
shadow, and an uncomfortably short jean mini-skirt that was one
size too small.

I was totally out of
my element. I wished we could have stayed in and given each other
manicures and pedicures, while watching Dick Clark’s Countdown with
a big bowl of popcorn. Besides, it was abnormally cold outside and
I had just started casually seeing Marco, who at the time I was
head over heels for. I also had no intentions of “picking up
tonight” as Stephanie casually stated, while she smeared on a
bright red layer lipstick.

Once we made it to a
club called The Cove, Michelle was the first one to drunkenly
stumble out of the cab, landing face first on the concrete. I
immediately stepped into mother hen mode and suggested we bring her
back to our apartment. Stephanie, in her drunken stupor told me to
shut-up and relax. She bent down and unknowingly flashed a row of
sorority boys her butt cheeks, while helping me bring Michelle to
her feet. Jessica was so preoccupied on her cell phone that she
hadn’t even heard a word I said. I tugged her arm and told her
Michelle had too much to drink, insisting we bring her back to the
apartment.

Jessica flipped her
phone shut and slapped Michelle playfully across the face, “She’ll
be fine. It’s New Year’s Eve Megan. Just get her some
water.”

Once we were inside,
the booming music vibrated against the walls and swallowed any sort
of voice that tried to escape our lips. Immediately Stephanie and
Michelle hit the dance floor and grinded amongst the sweaty
mosh-pit of people busting a move. I absolutely refused to join
them and had Jessica escort me up to the bar to get a drink. While
I waited for our order, Jessica stood off to the side, still
engulfed in her cell phone sending a streamline of text messages.
Within minutes, Michael appeared with Ben and their other two
friends Matthew and Eric.

Right away, I knew
Jessica had been texting Michael the whole time and meeting him
there was her plan all along. While part of me was annoyed by her
sneaky antics, the other part of me was actually quite pleased to
see them, especially Ben. As the night progressed, Jessica and
Michael eventually disappeared, leaving me to play babysitter to
Stephanie and Michelle, while Matthew, Eric and Ben sat up at the
bar drinking beer. I had to admit, the countdown wasn’t the same
without Dick Clark and a warm blanket, but as the DJ shouted out
the remaining seconds to midnight, I was thankful for everything in
my life, including my friends.

With an explosion of
confetti all over the club, people were hugging and kissing all
around us. Matthew and Michelle, who for years had been on again
off again, were making out on the dance floor. Eric and Stephanie
gave each other a friendly hug before switching off to share one
with Ben and I. But, when no one was looking, Ben leaned over and
whispered in my ear, “You look great.”

For a second he
lingered there, which made me a tad-bit uneasy as his breath
tickled my ear. I pulled away, but he stood there smiling at me
with a weird gleam in his eye. I smiled back raising my glass to
cheers him. Moments later, Eric suggested we leave the club and
continue the party at his place. Stephanie and Michelle agreed, but
I decided I wanted to go home to bed. Everyone moaned at my bail
out, but as far as I was concerned when the clock struck midnight,
New Year’s was over.

We bounced outside into the cool
night air and hailed down two cabs. I stepped into my cab alone,
but as I was calling out my address to the cab driver, Ben grabbed
the door and stuck his head in, “Do you want me to come with
you?”

“
Aren’t you going to
Eric’s?” I asked completely confused.

Ben just stood there, silently
hovering with his lips slightly parted. I waited for him to say
something more, but he didn’t. I shifted on the dirty squishy seat,
feeling the cool winter breeze gush into the cab and nip at my bare
legs. I pulled down on my uncomfortably short skirt and asked, “Can
you close the door now?”

Ben let out a sigh
and slid into the cab. He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek
then mumbled, “Happy New Year’s Megan.” Without another word, he
popped out onto the sidewalk and slammed my cab door
shut.

I never thought much
of what happened that night until right now. For some strange
reason, as that trivial moment replays itself over and over in my
mind, I find myself seeing it in a whole new light. Could he have
been trying to see if there was more than friendship between us? I
laugh out loud just thinking how ridiculous that sounds, even after
we just stupidly slept together. Ben would never like me like that.
He knows I am just a plain-Jane closet dork who likes all the
Planet of the Apes movies (originals only) and doing crossword
puzzles in the Sunday paper.

I am forced to snap back to reality as my cell
phone repeatedly vibrates on my nightstand.

“
Hello?”

“
What are you doing?”
Jessica’s voice booms into my ear.

“
I just got out of the
shower. I’m ready. Almost at the door.” I lie, and notice we have
less than twenty minutes to get to the airport on time.

“
Well, I am at your
door,” Jessica shouts, “Now open up.”

I quickly fix my bed
and inhale a whiff of Ben’s over sprayed cologne as I flip up my
sheets. I race out of my bedroom, fling open my front door and let
Jessica step inside the dark interior.

Jessica is perfectly
groomed with her long blonde hair loosely curled at her shoulders.
She is wearing oversized sunglasses and a gigantic travel bag that
dangles from her forearm. She pushes past me and examines my living
room with a curious eye. Suddenly I think she knows everything and
is about to call Ben and I out on our big secret. She even brushes
her hand along my sofa (in the exact same spot where Ben tugged off
the bottom of my pants). I gulp, toss my wet hair into a messy bun
and follow her into my bedroom.

“
Aren’t we going to be
late?” I nervously chuckle.

Jessica flops down on
my bed, placing her head between her hands and lets out an
exasperated sigh. I sit down beside her, worried she is going to
tell me someone died. But instead, she looks at me with tears in
the corner of her bright blue eyes, “I tried on my dress last
night, and I hate it. I think it’s too tight!”

Jessica has always
been known to be a tad overdramatic. I almost burst out laughing at
her trivial bridal dilemma. She is no more than a size zero, making
it nearly impossible for her to look bad in anything she puts on.
More importantly, I know for a fact her dress fits her like a
glove. I am the one who spent countless hours with her and her
doting mother shopping for wedding gowns. It was ninety-four
dresses later on Saturday, May seventeenth at one fifteen in the
afternoon, at the tenth bridal shop of the day, when Jessica was
more than smitten with her gorgeous ten thousand dollar gown when
she said, “Say Yes to the Dress.”

“
Well?” Jessica
shouts, jumping me in to full maid-of-honour mode.

“
You could call off
the whole wedding,” I joke giving her a playful nudge.

Jessica narrows her
eyes at me and crosses her arms over her well-endowed chest, “This
is a big deal Megan. Everything needs to be perfect. This isn’t
supposed to be happening right now!” She throws herself back onto
my bed, sinking into my comforter.

“
Jessica, please. How
could you not look amazing in anything you put on?” I say and pat
her leg for encouragement, “Besides, Michael wouldn’t care if you
walked down the aisle in a paper bag. He would still marry
you.”

Jessica sits up and
taps her finger on her lips, "You’re right. I do look fabulous in
just about everything.” She gives me a tiny hug before her gaze
darts across the room, “Where’s the checklist?”

My panic button goes off. I
haven’t seen the checklist since I left my house last night to meet
Ben. I fumble my words; until Jessica catches on that I don’t know
where it is. She gets up and starts whizzing around my room in
search of her infamous checklist. I too, begin searching, until I
happily catch a glimpse of it crumpled up on my suitcase in the
corner of my room. When I reach down to pull it up, I hear
Jessica’s voice perk up, “Whose hat is this?”

Oh no.

I slowly raise my
head up and face Jessica with a nervous smile. In a desperate
attempt to distract her, I wave the checklist out in the open. But
Jessica isn’t easily fooled. She pops out her hips, holding Ben’s
baseball cap by her skinny index finger. I walk over to her and
snatch his hat, trading her off by shoving the checklist at
her.

“
Well?” she laughs
with a devilish grin, “Whose hat is it?”

“
It’s nobody’s” I
shout and storm over to my suitcase. I zip it shut and stuff Ben’s
hat into the drawer on my nightstand.

“
It’s Marco’s isn’t
it?” Jessica whines and forces her hands to his hips.

“
You caught me.” I lie
and roll my luggage out of my bedroom. Jessica follows me, not
letting me get away that easily.

“
You know I am trying
to set you up with my cousin Steven. How many times have I told
you? He is all excited about getting to know you in Costa Rica. You
can’t be sleeping with Marco again if I introduce you.” She
scolds.

Oh great. I totally
forgot about Jessica’s grand plans to set me up with her recently
divorced, thirty-year old cousin Steven, the doctor.

“
I’m not sleeping with
him.” I reassure her.

“
Then what’s his hat
doing here? In your bedroom?” Jessica persists, pressing her hand
against my front door and blocking our exit.

“
He came to talk.
That’s all.” I lie as my heart races. I tilt my head to the side
and hope I have satisfied her unnecessary inquisition.

“
I sure hope so.”
Jessica says giving me the stink eye.

“
Can we please go?” I
sigh and push her out of the way.

Jessica purses her lips together
and places her moment of judgment. She removes her hand from my
door and says, “Alright, but you better not be lying to
me.”

I yank the door open and silently
curse Ben for leaving his hat here.

Chapter 3

The airport couldn’t come soon enough.
Jessica’s racecar driving is enough to make anyone fear for their
life. She cranks up her music and transforms into turbo speed. She
sings at the top of her lungs, flails her arms and dances while
driving on the freeway. When she slams on the breaks for the
hundredth time, she blames every other driver for an almost near
collision. At one point, she even speeds up and gives one driver
the finger as we pass by. I clench onto my seat the whole way
there, remembering why I always volunteer to drive.

Once we safely arrive at the airport,
I stumble out of Jessica’s brand new BMW and want to kiss the
pavement. Before I can even wipe the sweat trickling from my brow,
Michelle and Stephanie slide into the parking spot beside us.
Stephanie rolls down her window and flicks her long auburn hair to
the side, “Are you girls ready to par-tay?”

Jessica gives a cheer about finally
getting hitched, and slams her car door shut. I am still hunched
over trying to recover from motion sickness when the three of them
link arms and walk towards the airport. I stop my wobbling legs and
yank out not only mine, but Jessica’s luggage from her trunk. I
shout out to Jessica and ask her to come back and help me, but she
somehow doesn’t hear me. I grunt and flip my carryon onto a
suitcase before I wheel everything inside the airport, all by
myself. As the automated doors fly open, I see the girls chattering
amongst themselves and already waiting in the check-in line. I let
out an exasperated huff and continue to schlep our belongings,
making a mental note I am the best-maid-of-honor a girl could ask
for.

“
Want some help?” I hear
Ben’s voice come from behind me.

I whip around and almost drop
everything. Ben is holding out two coffees looking squeaky clean
and completely relaxed. When I don’t say anything, he hands me a
coffee and asks if I still like it with one-milk and one-sugar. I
nod and thank him, feeling my stomach tighten. He knows that’s
exactly the way I take my coffee. It’s our everyday routine to grab
one together in the morning as we head to the office. But somehow
his asking so only magnifies that there was that easy breezy before
we slept together part of our life, and the now awkward present of
the aftermath.