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“Thirty,” she agrees and disconnects the call.
The server sets down a plate of Pad See-Ew with tofu in front of me and I lean over and breathe deep. My mouth waters at the sweet and savory aroma and I can’t wait to dive in. What is it about Asian food that makes me so damn happy? No one knows the answer—not even me—and I will die happily oblivious. Years ago, Shelly joked I must have been Asian in a former life. When she suggested it, I shrugged and continued shoveling udon noodles in my mouth.
After the server walks off, I finish my last spring roll while Shelly begins attacking her rice and chicken with green curry. A moan rips from her throat and I laugh at her lack of shame. It is one of her many qualities that makes me love her. Shelly is just one of those humans who is one-hundred-percent herself. Her candid nature refreshing.
“Good?” I inquire with a layer of sarcasm.
“Mmm. You have no idea,” she mumbles around the food in her mouth.
All I can do is shake my head and laugh again. It is at the exact moment when I am shoving my noodle-packed chopsticks between my teeth that Shelly decides to ask me a question. Is that a secret rule at the dinner table? To ask people questions when it is most inconvenient? Seems the case.
“So, what was it like seeing him again?” Her question is innocent, but I almost choke on my noodles when she asks.
What was it like?
Like thirteen years vanished and I saw the first guy I fell in love with standing in front of me. My heart beat behind my rib cage as if I had locked it in a coffin and tossed the key. My heart has never thumped and thrashed so hard, so loud, so uncontrollably in my chest. I broke out in a sweat, nervous to be near him. Nervous to know if he missed me in all the ways I missed him. Nervous to know if he ever thought about me as often as I did—do—him. It was—is—terrifying.
“It was strange,” I lull. I want to own my truths, but I don’t know what they all are yet. How can I express emotions I don’t quite understand right now? How can I express the cacophony of feelings when they’re a cyclone in my skull?
Was I ecstatic? Without a doubt. Did I freak out? Definitely. I still am. Did every memory of him come sprinting to the forefront? Most of them. My favorite memories, anyway.
But it has been several years since we have seen or spoken to each other. He may look the same—with the exception of some added muscles and a semi-different hairstyle—but we are poles apart from who we once were. I can’t speak for Gavin, but our breakup broke me. The loss of him made me view relationships differently.
Shelly regards me a minute, looking in my eyes and trying to read the deeper meaning I avoid speaking aloud. “No doubt. How many days is he here?”
“Not sure,” I tell her. Because it is true. I have no idea how long he will stay. Part of me wants and doesn’t want to know when he leaves. “But the shoot ends in seven days. Each shoot is a different location in the area. There’s also a rest day scheduled. How long he’s here after… I’m not asking.”
She shovels a forkful of meat and rice into her mouth, nodding. When she finishes chewing, her eyes meet mine and she has her protective mask on. “Do you need me to hang around more? While you’re doing the shoot, that is. Kind of like reinforcement, in case he’s being an ass or you need a minute.”
My heart melts at her sentiment. I have no idea what I did to garner such an amazing friend, but I love Shelly hard. No one comes to my rescue as much as she does. She protects my heart as if it were her own. And she knows I would reciprocate in a heartbeat, if need be.
“Nah. I’ll be alright. I just need to keep my focus and not let my mind drift to the what ifs like it has before.” Too often, I have thought over every possible what if. And it does nothing but give me anxiety.
“Fine. But the first time he fucks shit up, I’m kicking his ass.”
Her face is dead serious, but all I respond with is a laugh. One that starts in my belly and rises quickly in my throat. The hearty laugh cathartic and exactly what I need after today. There is my Shelly. The best sidekick a friend could ask for.
“I know you will.” I reach over the table and pat her shoulder. “I know you will.”
Chapter Six
Gavin
People. Are. Everywhere. Surrounding and trapping me. Bodies rub against mine. Music blares so loud, hearing will be a challenge in the morning. Micah picked some bar and restaurant on North Indian Rocks Beach. I don’t remember the name, nor do I care. All that matters is being out of that hotel.
What I do care about is personal space. And these fucking people don’t seem to understand the concept. Claustrophobia has never come up as an issue, but in the last couple of days it has consumed me. I just like personal boundaries. And it seems as if everyone has forgotten what they are. Seems as if everyone is in on some massive joke to crowd me.
“You alright, man?” Micah asks when he notices me tense on my stool.
“Just a little crowded in here.”
“Sorry about that. You know how it is this time of year. Spring break seems to go on till the end of April. You want to head somewhere else?”
Dragging in a breath, I answer, “No. Crowds tend to freak me out more now. You think I’d be used to crowds with my job and people doing whatever they can to catch my attention. But nope. Still don’t want people in my perimeter.” I draw an imaginary bubble around my body for emphasis.
Micah slaps me on the back and adds a laugh for good measure. “Some things never change.” He pauses to take a swig from his beer. “How’ve you been, man? It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you.”
Guilt rushes through me. It had been close to six months since I last spoke with Micah. Time escaped me as life got busier. But I had known for a few months I was returning to the area. So why hadn’t I messaged or called him to let him know? The answer hits me like a bulldozer and I know exactly why I didn’t tell him.
