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I hesitate for a moment, quickly running through my bank account in my head. I don’t like spending money on things I don’t necessarily need, wanting to save as much as I can because there’s only so much I make as an art teacher—and by selling my paintings. But the idea of eating an unfulfilling salad I made before school makes my stomach roil, and my hunger wins out.
“Yeah, let’s go,” I give in, grabbing my purse from under my desk.
Once I have everything, I follow Tina out of the classroom and down the stairs, in the direction of the main office. We greet the secretaries in the office—except Mrs. Blake, who doesn’t even glance in our direction. She’s been with the school since forever, and she’s always had an attitude problem for a woman pushing her sixties. The woman needs to retire already; her permanent scowl scares the kids as well as some of the teachers.
As Tina and I sign out in the book, Mrs. Blake finally says from her desk, “This is a school, not a runway, Ms. Olivers.”
I blink in confusion at her remark before looking at Tina. She’s in what she always wears—stylish jeans and a blouse, with high heels to match. She’s the only person I know who can wear heels for hours upon hours, days on end, and not hurt her feet. Mrs. Blake’s glare is on Tina’s shoes, and I suppress the urge to chuckle.
“Really? I could’ve sworn this was New York Fashion Week,” Tina retorts dryly, clicking the pen off as she throws Mrs. Blake a bored look. With a sweet grin, Tina adds, “I’m not a student you can dress code, Georgia.”
The other secretaries watch in amusement, used to Mrs. Blake’s comments by now, and I press my lips together so I don’t laugh and become Mrs. Blake’s target. I’ve had my fair share of being on the receiving end of her remarks, and if I can make it unscathed, I’d rather that.
I pull Tina out of the main office, her heels clicking against the hallways that have a few students lingering on their way to lunch. As we head toward the exit, Tina huffs. “That woman needs to get laid so she gets off our backs.”
I scrunch my face, shaking my head as we exit the building. “I definitely didn’t needthatimage in my mind, thanks.”
She snickers. The two of us cross the parking lot and head towards the main road. There are a strip of stores and restaurants across from the school, and I spot Panera easily among them. Tina and I cross the busy road and enter the restaurant, and I let out a breath as we walk into the warmth and out of the city’s cold.
The next few minutes are spent with placing our orders, with Tina ordering for Bianca as well as we wait for her—although, she arrives right when we sit down at a booth after ordering and getting our drinks from the soda fountains. “Did you speed here?” Tina asks with a laugh as Bianca greets her with a kiss after sliding in next to her.
“Of course not. I drove the speed limit like a good citizen,” my best friend scoffs, shrugging off her coat. “I ran out of the office as soon as I could, before Michelle could ask for anotherfavor,” she explains with an annoyed scrunch of her face and a roll of her eyes.
Bianca works as an editor for a fashion magazine and Michelle, another editor, is always asking Bianca to do things for her as favors—which she rarely ever returns. And Bianca’s too nice to say no most of the time, much to my and Tina’s aggravation on her behalf. “I’m going to come into your office one of these days and tell Michelle to fuck the hell off,” Tina grumbles, reaching for her drink.
“How about we talk about anything else?” Bianca asks with a grin. Her gaze goes to me. “How are your paintings going?”
I roll my eyes at the change of topic. “They’re fine,” I tell her truthfully. “I’ve got a commission from a man who wants me to paint his favorite picture of his wife for their tenth anniversary.”
“Aww,” both of the women across from me sound. “That’s romantic,” Tina nods approvingly. “Maybe not all men are hopeless.”
My lip curls in mild disagreement. “Eh.” I take a sip of my Coke. A thought crosses my mind, and I glance around for a moment. The restaurant is practically dead, with the nearest people to us sitting about four or five tables away. Looking back at the girls, I say, “Speaking of men—Caden invited me and Elaine to his friend’s daughter’s birthday party. It’s later today.”
Tina’s eyebrows rise and Bianca blinks in surprise. I hadn’t told them about the invitation right when it happened, taking a few days to think over my decision of attending before I got their input on it. “That’s the first time y’all are gonna be going out somewhere together, right?” Bianca asks. Her Texan accent sometimes drawls out when she speaks, having moved to Chicago for college. We met in the mandatory college writing class all freshmen have to take, and have been best friends ever since.
“I mean, it’s not a big deal, right?” I ask, bristling slightly where I’m sitting. I suddenly feel my stomach twisting in nerves. “It’s just a kid’s birthday party.”
Still, I couldn’t ignore the feeling in my stomach—and specifically the look on Bianca’s face, doesn’t help, either. I felt the same way when Caden had first told me about coming to the party a few days ago, suddenly feeling like we were treading into territory that is unfamiliar. But then I told myself I was being ridiculous; it’s only a birthday party, not a freaking dinner to a five-star restaurant. And I can’t lie—Caden telling me he thought Elaine would get along with Lilah, the girl whose birthday it is, warmed my heart more than it should have. I used that as my reasoning that this is just a friendly thing, nothing more.
Even if it is a little intimidating going to a party that will have other NFL stars in attendance, when Caden’s the only one I’m used to being around. He hasn’t felt like a celebrity to me in a long time, if ever. Foolishly enough, I feel like going to this party is going to change that perspective in some way, and I will be Caden Bennett’s single mom friend who is tagging along with her kid.
Bianca, though, seems to have a different mindset. “I mean,” she begins, and I already have to brace myself. “The first time y’all are hanging out, like, publicly, is him introducing you to the rest of his friends. . . Seems kind of, you know, like something more.”
I blink at her while Tina huffs out a breath. “Orit’s just a friendly thing and you both are being overdramatic,” she says, shooting us both looks of exasperation. Truthfully, I kind of appreciate that at least one of us is being level-headed about this. With a shake of her head, Tina looks back at me and lowers her voice, saying, “I told you sleeping with him would be messy.”
I’m instantly on the defensive. “Okay, okay, it’s not messy.”Yet. “I’m just not used to going with him anywhere, obviously. We stay in our apartments and I haven’t had to deal with, like, his side of the world, you know? But going to this party kind of opens the door to that.”
“And are you ready for that?” Bianca asks with an arch of her brow.
I don’t answer, because two servers show up to give us our food. We smile and thank them, and once they leave, I let out a breath. “I’ve been telling myself it won’t be that bad,” I explain, reaching for the plastic spoon so I can dig into my small bowl of mac and cheese. The barbecue chicken sandwich next to it looks just as delicious. “I mean, they’re his friends. I’m his friend. It’s just. . . A friend thing,” I finish lamely.
My words sound ridiculous in my head. Tina looks like she’s trying to suppress a laugh by shoving a spoonful of soup into her mouth. Bianca just blinks owlishly at me and asks, “Do you. . . Want it to be a justfriendthing?”
“Of course,” I say quickly. Maybe too quickly, because they both stare at me completely unconvinced. I take a bite of my sandwich, frowning as I try to ignore their stares.
Afriendthing is all I can handle right now. The idea of a relationship with anyone, much less Caden—I’m not sure I have the time or energy, really, to commit to someone. The only person I’m committed to is Elaine, and all of my focus is on her. The only self-indulgence I allowisCaden, but we both have agreed that it’s just casual. Two friends who occasionally sleep together. It’s been working so far, and I intend on making sure it keeps working until it can’t anymore. Until he finds someone hewantsto be with.
My food turns bitter in my mouth as that thought crosses my mind, but I do my best to push it aside. Bianca seems to pick up on this and points at me with her own plastic spoon and says, “I think you’re lying to yourself.”
