Page 130 of Girls Will Be Girls
I didn’t help myself by listening to the romance mix Spotify made me all the way, and dreaming about what we’ll do when he comes to visit.
Before I boarded my flight, the girls told me to meet them at Frida’s bar tonight. She’s been working there ever since I’ve known her, and it’s become our usual place.
As much as I’d love to crash into bed and call Lou, I need to not come across as completely helpless and obsessed. I grab a quick shower, put on a flappy dress a 1920s icon would be jealous of, swipe a charger from Frida, and head over.
The beauty of Evergreen — Frida’s bar — is that it’s only a ten-minute walk from our apartment. It’s a sticky night, the New York summer air really going for a record tonight. I arrive at the bar with my hair in a messy updo after I couldn’t hack it on my neck any longer, and a light sheen of sweat gracing my forehead.
It’s wonderfully quiet in here, the almost midnight Wednesday crowd pretty sparse. I spot my little group of people instantly.
They all erupt in whoops and cheers as I make my way to where they’re all huddled at the corner of the bar top. Dylan runs over, eyes glassy and unfocused.
“My baby!” She squeals as she hugs me and sways me around.
“I missed you!” I squeeze her back. “You’re drunk.”
“I am!” She says delighted with herself.
She takes my hand and pulls me to the rest of the group. I hug Elijah, with Dylan making it a group hug after a beat. I untangle myself to leave the two of them cooing with each other. I go around the room hugging Lucas, Fred, Caspar, and Gordy, the entire gang.
The boys are a newer addition to our fearsome threesome. We met them all through Elijah, who grew up with them back in Vermont. Now, Caspar and Gordy live down here in New Yorkas well, and Lucas and Fred — or Frucas — come down regularly for visits, especially whenever Dylan and Elijah switch between their place in Boysen to their apartment in Brooklyn.
Our hellos are interrupted by the loudest screech you’ll ever hear. Frida appears at the doorway to the stock room, drops a cardboard box on the floor, and runs to me.
“You’re back!” She hugs me. “It’s been years.”
I laugh against her neck as her tall frame crushes me against her.
“I’ve been gone less than two weeks,” I say.
“That’s years in New York.” She pulls back, grinning at me.
“Missed you,” I say.
“Missed you more.” She says. “You had sex.” She states matter of fact.
“Jesus.” I splutter out a nervous laugh.
“You’re glowing!” She beams.
“That’s just sweat.”
“Nah.” She pulls me back to the bar. “You’re all in love and shit now.”
“I am not.” I stick her with a glare, but a small part of me didn’t believe myself.
Frida pulls me with her and pours me an amaretto on the rocks. She turns to the whole group.
“Does she not have the mostperson who’s in loveglow to her?” She gestures at me.
“I love that you’re in love.” Dylan coos.
“I am not.” I fight back, but the fight doesn’t feel real.
Lucas ignores me and continues. “You’re so cute with those heart eyes.”
“I don’t have heart eyes.” I take a sip of my drink to drown the lies.
Gordy shakes his head. “I can’t believe you’re ditching the singles gang. We’re outnumbered now.” He takes a swig of his drink, shaking his head.
