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F O R T Y O N E
- Madeline -
I hadn’t caught up with Kiki in months, and I hoped seeing a friend might help me shake off the malaise I’d been feeling since my roommate fell out of love with me. Okay, so maybe he was never in love with me, but it certainly felt like things had been heading in that direction.
It was her idea to meet for a drink, which I hoped meant our little tête-à-tête over the laundry basket was water under the bridge. She said she had some “big news,” and part of me hoped it was that Steve finally started paying rent. Or maybe they broke up and she wanted me to move back in, which would be a wonderful surprise. After all, James was due back in a month and a half, and I had no idea what I was going to do then.
Worst case, I knew Maeve would cave and let me crash on her couch, but it would have to be a limited-time deal for both our sakes. I also hadn’t a clue whether BELLE was going to offer me a full-time position or whether I’d even take it if they did. Yes, it would be a great opportunity, but at the same time, working there had shown me a shallow, cynical side of the fashion industry I wasn’t sure I wanted to be further immersed in.
I wished I could talk to Quinn about it since he’d been so supportive when I opened up about my career prospects (or lack thereof) in the past. But aside from the fact that a six pack of Smirnoff Ice appeared in the fridge the other day, I was pretty sure he’d forgotten all about me. In fact, I bet he only got it to test whether I was still living under his roof now that I’d become so masterful at avoiding him. Whatever his motive, the sweet liquor remained as untouched as if it were a mousetrap waiting to snap my neck.
As I approached Kiki’s favorite bar in Wrigleyville, I got a text from her saying that she was running late but that Steve had already secured a table by the front window. My heart sank. Making small talk with Steve till she arrived would be a chore, but it was too late to stall. He was already waving me over like an old friend.
I told myself it could’ve been worse. It could’ve been a text from Quinn asking me to move out so he could have his room back. Or a Tinder notification. I’d reinstalled the app a few days ago with a heavy heart, thinking it might help me move on from the blue-eyed boy across the sitting room, but it was no use. Every stranger I swiped across failed to stir anything in me.
I wondered how long it would be before I felt up to going on a date with someone, up to kissing someone, up to letting another man touch my hips or my lower back. The thought gave me chills. There was only one man whose hands I wanted on me, and he hadn’t even used them to knock on my door in weeks.
Never much of a mind reader, Steve threw his arms around me as soon as I reached the table. I was numb to the contact, but he hugged me all the same, told me I looked great, and confessed that Kiki had been missing me like crazy.
I smiled. “I’ve missed her, too.”
“Crazy how life gets in the way of spending time with the people you care about, huh?”
“Yeah.” Life. Doors. Pride. Whatever. It all gets in the way.
“Beer okay?” he asked. “I already ordered a pitcher.”
“Beer’s perfect.”
“They’re on special ’cause of the ballgame tonight.”
I glanced at one of the three TVs I could see from my side of the high table. “Great.”
The waitress arrived, and Steve poured a cup for me first, which I found pleasantly surprising. Maybe he’d matured over the last few months.
“To your big news,” I said, lifting my glass.
“Unfortunately, I have to keep you waiting,” he said, tapping his beer against mine. “Kiki wants to tell you herself.”
“I can stand the suspense a bit longer,” I said, trying not to let sarcasm infect my tone.
He forced a smile and smoothed his hand over his head. “I got a big boy job.”
My face jutted forward. “Is that the news?”
His eyes sparkled as he laughed, and for a moment, I thought I caught a glimpse of whatever Kiki saw in him. Not that it was enough to make me forget his habit of not locking the bathroom door and stinking up the whole apartment, but still. “It’s news,” he said. “But not the news.”
“What’s the job?” I asked, hoping Kiki hadn’t told him the details of our last argument.
“It’s with Home Depot. The one in Evanston.”
“That’s great, Steve.”
“If I play my cards right, I can work my way up to manager and maybe even get my forklift license.”
“Cool,” I said, marveling at how different people’s dreams could be as a shadow stopped in the window. I turned towards it when I felt eyes on me and found Quinn standing there, not smiling. His eyes pinged over to Steve and then back to me. I raised a hand in an unenthusiastic wave, gasping for breath as soon as he disappeared from view.
“Who was that?” Steve asked.
