Page 93 of The Way We Fell

“Are you sure you want to stay, Princess? Because we could—”

I grip his hand in mine and pull him towards the door, laughing as we go. We flash our IDs at the bouncer at the door and he waves us in. Paloma and Ruth are already there, holding court at a table in the corner beneath one of Pacifica’s signature purple downlights. Lo’s hair glows an eerie shade as Ruth waves us over with a dramatic arm motion.

“Hey, bro,” she says shyly, reaching up for a hesitant hug. “Hi Katy.”

I hang onto her for a moment longer than necessary when she hugs me. Our friendship is still tentative, but I’ll do whatever it takes to show her I’m still Katy, and she’s still my Roo. Paloma squeals from the table and I look around to see Amie and Cam arrive, hand in hand. Cam and Jay share a handshake and a manly back-slap before Cam kisses us girls on the cheek in greeting, and I hug Amie tightly.

“You okay, love?” I whisper-yell into her ear as I squeeze her.

“Yeah. No. Yeah, I’m okay.” She pulls away and smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. They’re dull and lifeless, and I’ve only ever seen them that way twice in the twenty years we’ve been friends. I skim my hand down her arm and grab her hand, waving to Roo and Lo with the other as I drag Amie in the direction of the bathrooms.

It’s loud in there, but not as loud as it is out in the bar. There’s enough of a reprieve that we can hear ourselves think and hold a conversation with only slightly raised voices, rather than yelling at the tops of our lungs.

“Talk,” Ruth demands as soon as the door closes behind us. Surprisingly, we’re the only ones in here, and we huddle together by a sink. Lo pulls a lipstick from her clutch and reapplies it in the mirror.

“I’m not pregnant.”

“We got that much, Sweet Thing,” Roo says kindly. “What else?”

“And… I’m not pregnant. That’s it. That’s the tweet. I’m not fucking pregnant.”

“Amie…” I wrap my arms around her torso, clinging to my best friend from the side. She returns my embrace immediately with a quiet sniffle.

“I know it’ll happen when it’s supposed to, blah blah, but I got pregnant with Maisy through a fucking condom, and now we’re rawdogging it constantly and I can’t do it? What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you, love,” I whisper into her hair.

“You’re perfect, Sweet Thing. There’s nothing wrong with you.” Ruth agrees.

“You know all those stories about people getting knocked up when they stop trying and stressing about it? Just let ol’ Hey-Zeus take the wheel for a bit.” Paloma pouts at her reflection, smacking her lips together before she finally turns back to us, lips plump, glossy, and violently red. “And in the meantime, we’re here for you.”

“I just want to give him that. He missed it all with Maisy and he wants it so badly. I want it for him. I want to do it all with him.” A tear tracks down her face, and Paloma reaches up to brush it away as more begin to fall. Within seconds, the four of us are tangled in a tight embrace, and at least three of us are crying.

“We’ve got you, love. Whatever it takes. Whenever it happens.”

Another moment passes before we break apart.

“I need a wee,” Ruth announces, breaking the tension as she flounces off into a cubicle. Paloma follows into the next one, and Amie and I lock eyes, shrug, and do the same.Might as well.A few minutes later, we finally return to our table, where Cam and Jay are slouched in chairs, legs outstretched and spread wide, trading phones with photos of old cars on the screens.

“Thought you’d fallen in.” Jay looks up and follows Ruth with his eyes as she passes behind him to an empty chair and drops into it. She slaps him lightly. It’s playful. It’s not quite as easy as their relationship was before, but it’s getting there.

We’re all getting there.

Chapter forty-nine

Katy

“Sorrywe’relate!”Paloma’svoice cuts through the din of our favourite Mexican restaurant. The last time we were here, I was about to start college and Jay and I weren’t even together yet. This time, the four of us are here again, but with Cam and Jay, too. Amie reaches up to hug Paloma before Lo slides into the booth beside her.

“We’re late becausesomeone”—Ruth points a literal finger at Paloma—“would be late to her own funeral given half a fucking chance.” Paloma smirks and pokes out her tongue at Ruth before blowing her a kiss. Ruth blows an air kiss back, pouting as she pushes one shoulder forward. This feels right. This is how it ought to be—all of us, together, saying dumb shit and loving each other regardless.

“Don’t worry, Lo,” Cam reaches over to grab Paloma’s hand in greeting. “We were late too. Suzanne got out of work late and she’s with Maisy this evening.”

“Our good lord and saviour, the angel Mama Suze.” Paloma raises her glass in a toast.

“Hear fucking hear,” Amie agrees, lifting her own glass in response and then taking a large mouthful of wine.

“Keller.” Ruth shoves lightly at my shoulder and I take the hint, sliding further along the booth seating and making space. She wraps me in a sideways hug. “Why the fuck is there aFor Salesign outside your house, Sweet Thing?”

---