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Pushing the hair from her face, I tuck it behind her ear. “Friday night,Sixteen Candles.I’ll order pizza and you can pick up popcorn on your way.” I poke her in the arm playfully.
Noelle rolls her eyes. “You do realize how misogynistic that movie is, right?”
I feign being offended, holding my hand over my heart. “It was the eighties, and speaking ill of John Hughes is a punishable offense,” I say, putting my arm over her shoulder and leading her to the elevator bank. “Besides, it’s my birthday and I get to pick, so there.”
Noelle laughs as I press the button.
“Okay, but next time I get to pick the movie,” Noelle says, turning her back to the elevator.
“Deal,” I agree, just as the doors open and a group of girls pile out.
Holding the door for her, she gets on. “Remember everything I told you. No going out alone, always watch your drink, use condoms…”
“Moooom!” she whines.
“And call me,” I say, looking at my beautiful girl. “Call me, and I will always pick up.”
Her face softens and the gravity of these elevator doors closing weighs on us. We both know that she is always a phone call and a thirty-minute drive away, but once these doors close, a new chapter begins for both of us.
The doors bang against my arm, and I slowly let go, but Noelle moves forward, crashing into me. “You’re gonna do great things,” I say into her hair and kiss the top of her head before letting go.
As I walk back to my car, I feel tiny drops of rain hit my skin with the force of a train, because each one reminds me of Adrian.
Go to him.
If only it were that simple.
When I get to my car, Georgie is leaning against it.
“Have you been waiting here the whole time?” I ask, walking into her waiting hug.
“Your dad is a terrible wingman. I was holding out for you,” she winks.
The rain is only a slight drizzle, not enough to cool anything off, but enough to draw the humidity even tighter around you.
“I don’t think I’m much better,” I say, laughing at my best friend.
“I thought maybe you’d need a drink.” She throws her arm around my shoulder although the height difference makes it hard, but she manages to steer me down the street towards a pub.
We settle into a booth, and Georgie orders us a bottle of wine.
“How’s our girl?” she asks, nodding her head in the direction of the dorm building.
“Way too fucking smart for her own good,” I say shrugging, and then smiling at the waitress as she pours a glass for each of us.
“That girl is all you, sweetheart. You can take all the credit because you did italone.” Georgie raises her eyebrows, along with her glass.
Letting out a breath, I feel as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. “For eighteen years that girl has been your life and you poured every ounce of yourself into her, and it shows,” Georgie says, her green eyes pinning me. “Now it’s your turn.”
“I’m going to be forty-four-years-old, Georgie.” I place my forearms on the table and lean over them.
“Fuck your forty-four years old, Lake,” she says pointedly. “And fuck every negative thought in that gorgeous, brilliant head of yours.” She slaps her palm flat on the table between us.
“The truth is, it wasn't my age, it wasn’t Beth, and it wasn’t Noelle either that sabotaged my relationship with Adrian.” Noelle was right, I’ve been the one holding myself back because I’m scared. I didn’t want to fall because landing meant opening myself up to a future I couldn’t predict. It was so much easier to walk away than to stand in front of him and confess that I’d fallen in love with him. Being in love meant being vulnerable, and I had spent years avoiding vulnerability.
My confession comes not as a shock or a revelation, but a release, like letting go of something that has weighed me down for too long.
“It was me.”
