- Aiden -
waited until Lucy unlocked the door to her apartment building before pulling away from the curb.
I don’t know if it was just the hit of sugar from the unreasonably decadent portion of ice cream I’d just taken to the face or the fact that nobody lifted my spirits like she could, but I was feeling really good.
I knew it was unfair to compare my girlfriend to Lucy considering that we grew up together, but it was disappointing that neither Chelsea nor my parents could feign even a fraction of the enthusiasm that Lucy did in my goals.
It wasn’t like I was under any delusions that Chelsea was The One or anything, but she was still supposed to be the person I could rely on more than anyone. Unfortunately, she just wasn’t interested in the same stuff as me... apart from sex and money, of course. But I did care about her, and we’d been through a lot together.
Which is why I was going to have a talk with her as soon as I got home.
After all, no one else knew how poorly she was taking care of herself, and I had waited long enough to say something.
And I had every right. Plus, if my parent’s awkward relationship had taught me anything, it was that communication was an essential part of a relationship. Or at least, avoiding communication at all costs doesn’t help anything.
She was sitting on the couch when I let myself into the apartment.
“Where were you?” she asked, keeping her eyes on her magazine.
“Hello to you, too,” I said, tossing my keys in the bowl by the front door.
“Well?”
“I went to check out a new ice cream place with Lucy.”
“Of course you did. Cause I can’t leave you alone for two seconds without you going to hang out with her.”
“Chill, Chelse. You know I like ice cream, and you don’t eat it. It’s not a big deal.”
“Are you sleeping with her?”
I laughed. “Yes, getting ice cream is code for that. Didn’t you know?”
“I’m serious, Aiden. You’ve been spending a lot of time with her.”
“Gee, I guess you’re right. I mean, if I started hanging out with her when I was ten-” I looked up and pretended to count on my fingers. When I looked back at her she was seething.
“I’m not laughing.”
“And I’m not sleeping with Lucy, okay? If that was going to happen it would’ve happened a long time ago.”
She tossed the magazine to the side and crossed her legs.
“Are you sure you’re not upset about something else?”
“I’m fine.”
“Okay, good,” I said, taking a seat on the couch. “Cause I would never cheat on you, babe. You know that, right?”
She nodded.
“Are you in for the night?” I asked.
“Yeah, why?”
“I was hoping we could talk about something.” I scooted next to her.
“What?”
“I want to talk to you about what happened the other day-”
“I told you I was sorry-”
“Not about what you said.” I put my arm across the couch behind her. “About what your agent said.”
She laid her head on my shoulder. “About what?”
“About you being too skinny.”
She sat up, wiggling out from under my arm. “What about it?”
“Don’t get all worked up. I just want to have a calm discussion.”
“You want to have a calm discussion about my weight?”
I nodded.
She cocked her head at me. “Do you know nothing about women?”
“Look, you know I think you look great.”
“What’s your point?”
“I think you would look even better if you gained a few pounds.”
“A few pounds?!”
“Yeah. I think you would feel better, too.”
“Did my agent put you up to this?” she asked, scooting away.
“No, Chelse. I’m only mentioning it because I care about you, and I want you to be happy.”
Her bottom lip started to shake.
“And I think if you ate a little more you would be happier, and maybe it would even help you get more jobs which I know is important to you.”
“I literally can’t believe you right now.”
“What?”
“I can’t believe you would pick a fight with me when I’m already waging a battle on another front.”
“What front?”
She raised her arm in the air and pointed at the middle of her forehead.
I squinted. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m calling it Luther.”
I couldn’t see the personified pimple she was referring to. “I don’t see anything.”
“Well, Luther is adding more than enough weight to my frame as it is.”
“I bet Luther would go away if you started eating a balanced diet.”
“I don’t expect you to get it because eating has always been an important part of your job, but it’s the opposite for me.”
“Okay, I’m not an idiot. I get that you don’t think I’m the right person to talk to about your diet, but you need to talk to someone- a professional or something.”
“A professional?!” She put a hand over her chest. “Oh my god. You think I need psychological help?”
I sighed. “Yeah, I do.”
“How can you say that? I’m just trying to stay ahead of the competition.”
“You won’t be competing with anyone if you don’t start eating.”
“You’re unbelievable, you know that? It’s bad enough that I have my agent bullying me, but I never thought I would hear this shit from you.”
“I’m not bulling you, and I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’m just trying to help.”
She put her hands on her hips. “You know what would help?”
“What?”
“If you stopped spending all your free time with Lucy and actually paid attention to me for a change.”
“Are you kidding?! All I do is pay attention to you. Believe it or not, you’re not as low maintenance as you think you are.”
She gasped.
It was everything I could do not to laugh. Was she really so lacking in self-awareness that she thought I paid more attention to Lucy than I did to her?
“She put that idea in your head. I know she did.”
“She did no such thing. In fact, she asked how you were doing.”
“What did you say?”
“I said you were fine, that you were volunteering at the nursing home today.”
She pursed her lips.
“But that’s not true, is it?”
“What? Of course it’s true.”
“Then why do you smell like cranberry vodka.”
“Because.”
“Because…”
“Because I got drinks with some of the volunteers after we were done.”
“Why didn’t you call me to come meet you?”
“Cause it was just for a quick drink, and then we all went home.”
I nodded. “How’s your Grandma?”
“Good.”
“Did you tell her I said hi?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” I put my arms behind my head and leaned back. “So when are you going to talk to someone about your eating habits?”
She walked over to the fridge and pulled a bottle of vodka out of the freezer. “I thought I made it pretty clear that I wasn’t going to.”
“It’s not optional.”
She took a pull from the bottle and squeezed her eyes shut as the frozen liquid flowed down her throat. “I thought you said you weren’t going to make me.”
“What’s in your stomach besides vodka right now?”
“A big greasy burger. Is that what you want to hear? That I went out with the other volunteers and ate a bunch of onion rings and a bowl of Cajun fries. Would that do it for you?”
“No, I want to hear the truth.”
“In that case, cranberry juice,” she said. “And six olives.”
I closed my eyes for a second. “What do you want for dinner? I’ll get anything you want.”
“I don’t want anything,” she said, sliding the vodka back in the freezer. “I’m stuffed.”
I shook my head. “Fine. Cause I’m full, too.”
Full up to here.