Page 2 of Dear Bad Boy Next Door
I can feel my throat tightening, and I want to hang up, but I know that will only make this unbearable situation worse.
“Fine,” I say, my voice squeaking with emotion. "Email me the list of what you need to be done. I've gotta go."
I end the call before she can say anything else. She’s said enough as it is already.
“Luce!”
I turn and see Cassidy getting out of her car with a pizza box in her hand. The happiness in her smile is like a salve on my heart. If she or Maren or Willa knew that my mother just put me through the wringer again, they'd insist on calling her back and telling her where she can stick her list of things for me to do for the party. It’s perfect that we are all meeting up tonight. I need my best friends to help me forget the family shit I’m dealing with and just have fun.
“You are a sight for sore eyes!” She runs up to me and gives me a one-armed hug while balancing the pizza box in her other hand.
“I know, it feels like forever since we’ve all been able to get together and hang out.”
We head up to Willa and Maren's apartment. Willa opens the door, and the familiar hum of the blender lets us know that Maren is making her secret recipe, Margaritas.
"I've been waiting all week for one of your margaritas," Cassidy says as Maren walks in with a pitcher full of the blended lime goodness.
We each take our familiar spots on the sofa sectional and dig into the pizza and sip on our frozen drinks. The conversation amongst us begins with a familiar hot topic—Maren needing to quit her office job with her insanely hot boss.
Maren and Willa go back and forth, each making their little digs at one another. You’d think that they didn't like each other the way they snip at one another. I even nearly get pulled into the argument when I choke back my laughter when Maren points out that Willa is still living off her parents while she's in grad school. Willa gives me a sharp look like she wants to point out that my parents are wealthy too, but I've long since stopped taking money from them. I didn't want to be like the other pampered princesses I went to high school with that loved to show off using daddy's credit card. Not surprisingly, Margot can be put in that category as well. She never understood why I got a job working at the mall after school instead of spending my afternoons there hanging out with my friends. She’d tell me endlessly how embarrassing it was that her friends saw me there. What she didn’t know was that was half the reason I did it. But then she started lying about actually knowing me. It’s not like we looked anything alike. She took after our mother with her blonde hair, bright smile, and slender figure.
“Okay,” Cassidy holds up her arms between Maren and Willa. She has always been the mediator of the group, able to calm any situation down before it got out of hand. “Let’s all take a breath before this turns into a repeat of sophomore year when you two didn’t speak for a month because of Brandon Davidson.”
“I’m sorry,” Maren says.
Willa nods. “Me too.”
“Good, we are all friends again. Let’s clink this out.” Cassidy holds up her glass. We all laugh and clink our glasses.
“What I want to know is why we are all here, staying in on a Friday night?” Maren asks, refilling everyone’s glasses. “I mean, I know why I don’t have a life, but we are all smart, funny, beautiful women. We should have guys lining up down the block for us.” She turns on the sofa and glances out the window, down at the street below. "It's empty."
Beck’s face pops into my mind. He’s the hot bad boy that lives across the hall in my building. He’s not like any guy that my mother would find socially acceptable for me to date—with his tattoo sleeves on both arms, leather jacket, and motorcycle. I think for a moment what it would be like to ride on the back of it with my arms around his waist and the wind blowing in my hair.
Willa interrupts my thoughts when she starts talking about her crush on her hot British professor. I talk about Beck. Cassidy shocks me when she mentions her long-standing crush on her brother's best friend since she was in high school. And eventually, Maren spills the beans about her crush on her billionaire boss.
“So, what are we saying here?” Maren says, standing up from the sofa and turning to look at each of us. “Are we all going to sit here every Friday night, lusting after our secret crushes until we are old spinsters?”
“What are you suggesting?” Cassidy asks.
“We’ve got to tell the guys in our lives how we feel so we can move on. We can’t keep holding onto a hope that they might one day wake up and see us differently. There are guys out there waiting for us.” She points out the window towards the city skyline. “And we are too busy hiding behind our unrequited love to go out and meet them.”
“How are we supposed to tell them?” I ask. “I can barely get the courage to speak complete sentences around him, let alone admit how I feel.”
Maren looks unsure for a moment.
"Here," she runs over and grabs a box of stationary off a shelf. "We will each write out a letter. We don't have to send them, but maybe, by putting down on paper how we feel, we can finally move on and meet someone new."
“It’s not the craziest idea you’ve ever had,” Willa says.
It is a crazy idea but one that just might be exactly what I’ve been looking for to change the monotonous direction my life is going in. I'm always playing it safe. I let others take the spotlight without a fight. What's the worst thing that could happen if I actually give Beck this letter—he goes from not knowing my name and ignoring me to knowing my name and ignoring me.No one will be looking at you.My mother’s voice echoes in my mind.
“Are you in, Lucy?” Maren asks.
I look up and realize they are all watching me, waiting for me to agree to this crazy but brilliant plan.
I smile. “Let’s do it.”
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