I pause. “Uh, yeah. Last year. While you were on your little romantic beach getaway with hunky frat boyfriend.”
Margot shoves my shoulder playfully. “You were in Vermont with your family! What was I supposed to do? Sit at home and wait for you to get back?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, you were,” I reply, sticking my tongue out at her. In all the twenty years I’ve known Margot, we’ve done almost everything together. Having grown up down the street, we spent every holiday, every birthday, every snow day together. Margot has been my best friend, my safe place, for my entire life, and I’m the same for her.
Well at least Iwas, until last year when she started dating Tomlin University stud Alex Prescott. She hasn’t completely forgotten me but she definitely spends less time with us at the apartment and more time shuffling back and forth between campus and Alex’s apartment in Boston.
I’m happy for her, though. Those two deserve all the happiness in the world after what they went through last year. I love seeing Margot so blissed out. And rightfully so, Alex absolutely adores her.
Speaking of the devil, Alex shuffles up behind Margot, reaching up over her head to pat mine. “Happy birthday,” he says as he pets my head like a dog.
I chuckle, “Thanks, Alex.”
“Anyone need a drink?” he asks, grabbing Margot’s coat to hold onto while we dance. A chorus of “margaritas” rings from our little group and Alex nods as he makes his way toward the bar.
Margot hugs Sydney as the song changes toTruth Hurtsby Lizzo. “I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was a bitch from Boston.”
“I’m just happy you’re here!” I squeak out. I love spending time with my friends but more than anything, I love being out having fun, dancing and letting loose. My roommates, however, aren’t always on the same page with me in that regard. Margot would much rather be curled up with a book or a rom com movie while Sydney would love nothing more than to go for a mile run then hit a pilates class.
Sometimes I wonder how we’ve kept such a close relationship all these years but I don’t question it. Somehow fate brought us together and I am not one to tempt that.
Besides, it’s not like we’ll be doing this forever.
While all three of us are graduating in May—Margot with a bachelor’s degree in journalism and Sydney in exercise science—I’ll still be here, entering the Tomlin University Medical School. I could’ve gone somewhere closer to home, applied at Duke or Johns Hopkins. Contrary to popular belief, I do care about my grades and I’ve managed to keep my GPA up all through undergrad. I probably would’ve gotten in.And wouldn’t that thrill my mother.
But, I originally chose TU for its medical program. Plus, I love the Northeast; you’d have to drag me away kicking and screaming from these fall leaves and cinnamon lattes.
Alex returns with our drinks and we cheer again to my birthday. After a little more dancing, my feet are actually killing me. “I need a break,” I shout over the music and Alex pushes our way through the crowd and into the more quiet seating area. It’s only ten pm but already the bar is packed and it’s a miracle we’re able to spot a booth for the four of us.
Throwing my heels off, I rub my toes gently, trying to get the blood circulating back into my extremities.
“Pretty unsanitary in a public place, brat.”
My hands freeze. Only one person in the world calls me that. Slowly, I gaze up to see the last face I was hoping for or expecting to see.
“Arden!” Margot squeals from the other side of the table and jumps up into his arms. “What are you doing here?”
“Figured since you spent Thanksgiving with your boy toy, I’d come visit you instead.”
“Worst birthday present ever…” I mutter. Arden laughs above me. Margot’s lovely boyfriend ignores the “boy toy” comment, reaching his hand out to shake Arden’s. After he greets Sydney, he looks down at me again.
“Birthday shot?”
Looking up at him from beneath my eyelashes, I hit him with my withering stare. Arden raises his eyebrows. With a huff, I stand. “You’re buying.”
He chuckles again then grabs my hand and pulls me away from the table, through the crowd to the bar. The feel of his hand on mine is foreign and I don’t understand the jolt it sends up my arm and down my spine.
While Arden and I have a bit of a sordid history, we’ve never been the “holding hands in public” kind of close. As if remembering myself, I wiggle out of his grasp. Arden hardly notices.
“What’s everyone drinking? I’ll get the next round, too.”
I tell him our drink orders but refrain from complimenting the gentlemanly action. I’m sure he’ll ruin it somehow.
“I really only dragged you over here to get another set of hands to carry drinks back to the table.”Knew it.
“Jackass.”
He flashes me that million dollar smile before ordering the group drinks and two shots of Don Julio.Top shelf. Fancy.When the bartender turns to make the drinks, Arden leans his arm on the bar, facing me fully.