Natalie
“Got anything special planned for the big twenty-two?” Zara asks, fingering the fabric of a shirt she’s thinking about purchasing at Olive + Ashley, one of our favorite stores.
I shrug. Birthdays have always been special occasions in my family. Since I was an only child, my parents would go all out. For the first time in my life, I’m not looking forward to it.
Normally, the night of my birthday, my parents and I go out for dinner at my favorite Mexican restaurant, La Fuente. It’s been a tradition for as long as I can remember. For obvious reasons, that won’t be happening this year. Dad texted a couple of days ago asking if he could take me out for lunch so we could talk, but I politely declined the offer.
I’m still pissed about what happened a few weeks ago. I have no desire to see him or his fiancée. They can both go to hell as far as I’m concerned.
“I’m not sure yet,” I admit reluctantly. “I thought my mom and I would hit the restaurant alone, but she texted yesterday and said a showing came up that she can’t get out of.”
Zara’s brows shoot up, and a look of sympathy settles across her elfin features. “Oh, that sucks.” She picks up a long, flowing bohemian-style shirt and looks it over with a critical eye. “What about your dad? Have you spoken with him since the incident?”
That’s what we’re now referring to it as…the incident.
More like the incident where I lost my shit.
I shake my head. “Nope, and I don’t intend to.”
When your parents go through a breakup, you realize how meaningful all those little traditions you didn’t appreciate during your childhood become. It makes you want to hang onto them tightly with both hands and never let go. Somehow, having a little bit of normalcy makes life feel as if it hasn’t been completely yanked out from under your feet.
So, my mom cancelling at the last minute stings. In her defense, she did ask a bazillion times if I’d be okay and offered to rearrange her schedule. I, of course, said no. I’ll be twenty-two years old on Saturday and didn’t want to act like a big baby. Even though I kind of feel like a big baby at the moment.
Now that she’s a single parent and reliant on her own income, if a showing comes up, she has to jump on it. She’s just starting out in this business and can’t do anything to jeopardize her budding career.
But it sucks.
Big time.
“What about Brody?”
I give her a blank stare. “What about him?”
Zara rolls her eyes. “Did you mention that it’s your birthday on Saturday?”
Why the heck would I do that?
I shake my head and focus on the rack of tops I’m perusing. Unlike Zara, I’m not in the market for something new. “Of course not. It’s not like we’re actually going out.”
“You two have been spending an awful lot of time together lately,” she says nonchalantly.
My eyes narrow and she suppresses the smile hovering around the edges of her lips.
“Please. We’ve been studying at the library.” Heat fills my cheeks as I think about all the times we’ve snuck around the corner of the stacks and made out. I can’t think of another guy I’ve enjoyed kissing more than Brody. He has the best lips. And his hands…
I really need to stop thinking along these lines. It’s dangerous.
“Sure,” Zara snickers. “Brody’s well known around campus for his academic prowess.”
I open my mouth, ready to blast her, but catch myself at the last minute. I promised Brody I wouldn’t tell anyone about his struggles with dyslexia. And that includes Zara. I’m almost taken aback by how quickly the need to defend him rises up within me.
The relationship we’ve become embroiled in is messing with my head. I should do myself a favor and end it. It’s been a few weeks. We could quietly part ways without too much commotion. No one would even notice.
The idea of doing that leaves a sick knot in the pit of my belly.
When did I start to develop feelings for him? It’s a shocking revelation.
Almost offhandedly, I say, “Brody cares about his grades. He’s getting a business degree. After the NHL, he’s going to join his father’s management company.” How many people my age have a ten-year plan in the works? I certainly don’t. I don’t think Zara does either.
Her eyes cut to mine in surprise. I bite my tongue, wishing I’d kept my big mouth shut. What do I care what Zara thinks about Brody?
Only recently have I come to realize that Brody isn’t the guy I always thought he was. And he isn’t the guy Zara thinks he is either. It bothers me that she can’t see him for who he really is. Which is ridiculous. It took me long enough to scratch beneath the surface.
“Huh.” A slow smile spreads across her face. “Is that so?”
I shrug and turn my attention to a shirt I have zero interest in purchasing because it’s easier to focus on that than acknowledge the growing curiosity in Zara’s eyes.
If I were smart, I’d change the subject before she figures out what’s really going on. That I’m actually falling for this guy.
Unfortunately, my lips start moving before my brain has time to pull the plug. “Brody could have gone straight to the NHL after juniors, and he chose to come here and work on his degree first. It’s important to him.”
Even though I’m tempted to tell her about the promise Brody made to his mother before she died, I don’t. For all Brody’s party-boy, manwhore ways, he’s turned out to be infinitely deeper than I gave him credit for. I wish other people could see that side of him.
But that’s not my decision to make.
It’s his.
And I would never break the promise I made to him.
Zara’s eyes narrow as she considers me. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you. For three years all you’ve done is hate on that guy.”
Her words make me wince. She’s right. “Hate is an awfully strong word,” I murmur. “I don’t think I ever hated him.”
She gives me an are-you-crazy look. I can’t blame her for being confused at my sudden about-face. “Yes, you did. In fact, I specifically remember you saying that you hated him and wished Brody’s penis would shrivel up and fall off. That was like a month and a half ago.”
All right. Fine. I said it. I wanted his penis to shrivel up and fall off.
But clearly, that’s no longer the case. I’m not sure what to do about these strange feelings growing inside me. I have to remind myself more and more often that we’re acting out a charade. That’s all.
No longer wanting to dwell on the Brody situation, I change the subject. “How about we grab dinner Saturday night? Maybe see a movie? We can keep it low-key.”
A look of guilt flashes across her face. “Oh. I can’t.” She bites her lip. “I’m sorry, Nat. I just assumed you’d be with your mom on your birthday. I’ve already made plans with Luke. His parents are coming into town for a visit. We’re going out to dinner.”
“That’s fine,” I say hastily, trying to backtrack. “It was just an idea. No big deal.”
After a moment she says, “I’ll cancel if you want and we can go to dinner and a movie. Now I feel terrible. I don’t want you to spend your birthday alone.”
I shake my head. “No way are you cancelling on Luke. I’m happy things are going so well for you guys.” I was nervous when she first told me about getting together with him. Most of the hockey players are douchebags. But not all. Luke is definitely one of the good guys.
Zara smiles and her entire face lights up as she confides, “I told him that I loved him.”
“Wow.” Setting aside my own disappointment, I say, “You two are amazing together. And for the record, I was wrong about him. Luke is a great guy. Nothing like Reed.”
What I’m starting to realize is that Luke isn’t the only hockey player I was wrong about.