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You know what they say—idle hands, or whatever.
two
ImeetEvieoutsidemy building a little after 9:00 PM and we start to make our way from Pioneer Square towards SoDo. It’s warm enough, like we knew it would be, but the air is thick and smells like rain. She towers over me more than usual in her stiletto heels, and I wonder how she manages to walk any type of distance wearing them, but she looks amazing, as always. She’s classically chic with a hippy buried underneath; she's a girl who still thinks she can save the world. I guess, in a lot of ways, she did kind of save me.
“Ruby, did you hear me at all? Who are you texting anyway?” she asks, or at least I think that’s what she said. She was right; I wasn’t listening.
“Um, Alex,” I tell her, “He’s having some…relationship drama, I guess.”
“Good. I don’t give a shit about Alex, but you don’t need to be involved in it,” she says.
“I’m not involved in it,” I say.
“You’re just his shoulder to cry on? Because you shouldn’t be that either.”
“He’s my friend. He’s always there for me, just like you are. I really don’t get what the deal is with you guys.”
“Ruby, I don’t like how he treats you. I don’t like how he strings you along,” she says. Her words come out a hint softer and calmer this time, dripping with sincerity, whether I like them or not.
“He doesn’t, though. He’s been very clear, actually, that we’re just friends. That’s the problem.I’mthe problem.” As much as it guts me to say it, that part is true. It isn’t his fault that I can’t get rid of whatever feelings I have.
“But there are no boundaries with him. You’re emotionally invested in this non-relationship and it’s keeping you from…having an actual relationship.”
“I don’t want an actual relationship,” I tell her. I’m not necessarily being dishonest. I haven’t wanted one—not with anyone else and not for a very long time. “You know what? Let’s not talk about it, okay?”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “You’re right. I don’t want to fight about it. I don’t care if Alex and the girl that he took home to hurt you that turned into a long, bad joke aren’t having a good time right now. Sorry, again. Shit. I had a couple of shots before I left my apartment and I’ve been super stressed at work anyway, so maybe I’m lashing out a little bit.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her.But please, just let it go.
She spends what’s left of the walk venting, and soon enough I find myself pushing my way through a crowded club that I’d never willingly go to on my own, making my way toward Olivia. She’s sitting at a booth in the back with four other girls, all of whom I think I may have met before, but I can’t say for sure. Her head is thrown back laughing at something someone else said. She spots us quickly and waves us over, and I follow Evie apprehensively through the crowd. It’s too hot and too loud in all the wrong ways. I think I was touched unintentionally—or at least I hope it was unintentionally—by at least ten people as I crossed the room. I’m sweating already. I hate sweating.
“Ruby!” Olivia runs over and hugs me enthusiastically. It’s her birthday, so I’ll allow it. A man walks up with a tray full of colorful shots that aren’t really my thing, but since Olivia is, we toast to her, and I suck one down anyway. I notice there’s an extra on the tray, so I take that one too. I’m going to need it. Then, after a while, the conversation isn’t so bad, and neither is whatever this is that they are trying to pass off as music in here nor are the colorful lights that are either doing absolutely nothing or completely blinding me. Even Olivia’s friends are downright pleasant and not as off-putting as I’d remembered.
The topic of conversation shifts to some guy, and I tune in, hoping for something juicy. “I know that guy. He works in my building, and you can tell he thinks he’s really fucking special,” Olivia says.
I follow their gazes and spot the guy they are talking about. Blonde hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders, cheekbones for days. I’m not impressed. I’ve seen this guy a million times. Well, not this exact guy. But there are millions of this guy out there. There are probably at least six in this club right now.
“He flirts with every woman on the floorrelentlessly,” she adds. “His name is Jake. I know because my secretary cried about him for a week.” Her friends laugh, but I wouldn’t really call that funny.
“Gross,” one of them adds.
“I saw that,” Evie says, leaning in towards me. “You’re checking that guy out. You heard‘emotionally unavailable’, and your heart skipped a beat. I think I even heard a deep sigh. You want me to go over there?”
“You want to go over there? Help yourself,” I reply with a shrug, knowing full well she wasn’t going to go over there for herself. She’s been in a relationship for forever now. She doesn’t reply, only shakes her head and looks at me with disappointment.
“What? He’s not my type,” I tell her. “Not even close.”
She gives me some kind of eyebrows that seem to express that, for whatever reason, she doesn’t quite believe me and convinces me to dance with her. It’s almost too crowded to move. I’m far too sweaty, and I know I must stick out in a crowd like this. Everyone else seems so bright and shiny and carefree instead of dark and shattered like me, but eventually, I have to admit that I am having fun. We dance and sing the lyrics of songs we don’t even know until Olivia lets us know they’re over this scene and ready to move on to the next place.
We head outside, and I take a quick personal inventory. I have my friends. I have my stuff. I have a beautiful fall night that smells like rain in my city—my absolute favorite place. Maybe I’m luckier than I think. Then, the uber pulls up. We all pile in, with me rounding out the pack.
“Whoa,” says the driver, “Wait a second. I only have room for six.”
“The app said seats 7!” says Olivia, or maybe it was Kate. I’m not really sure at this point.
“Yeah, six of you and one of me. One of you has to get out—those are the rules,” he replies.
“Go ahead,” I tell them. “I’ll meet you there.”
