Page 100 of Friendshipped
TJ:Okay. I’ll text you tomorrow. If that’s okay.
Lexi:I look forward to it.
36
Trevor
I’m planning dates and times to visit Thai restaurants in the Columbus area when I get a call from Meg at work this morning. Don’t ask me how she got my work number. That woman could break in to steal the crown jewels. She’s never deterred by barriers. Guards, pshaw. Alarms, whatever. Attack dogs, minor inconvenience.
It’s not like I am looking into alarms and attack dogs. Yet. It really bothers me how much Meg’s around these days and it always seems to be at times when Lexi gets an eyeful of Meg draping herself on me like a piece of saran wrap. Clingy and suffocating.
“Trevvy,” her voice coos through the phone.
“Meg.”
“You don’t sound happy to hear from me.”
“I’m working. This is my focused voice. Did you need something?”
“I’ve got big news.”
“Well, I work for a newspaper, so lay it on me.”
I mostly tell myself jokes when I respond to Meg. She rarely comprehends the humor.
“Oh, well, it’s not newspaper news. Though. Maybe it could be. I don’t know. Anyway, I’m moving out of my parents’ house.”
I can see her confusion as to whether her move’s newsworthy. In a town like Bordeaux, anyone moving spreads like a lead story on the six o’clock news. Little tidbits entertain for days. But, no. I’m not taking out space in the Tribune to share Meg’s change of address.
“I’m moving into an apartment with Ella Mae,” Meg says with a voice that sounds like she won the Publisher’s Clearinghouse Sweepstakes.
Personally, it would take more than winning a sweepstakes to convince me to live with Ella Mae. The woman makes social media posts of everything from her trips to the grocery to the process she uses to whiten her teeth. But she and Meg are best friends, so I guess it suits them to become roommates.
“I need someone with lots of muscles—like yours Trevvy—to help move furniture and boxes into my new place. Can you help me tomorrow?” She practically purrs my name.
I could say no. In theory I understand my options. But I don’t want to be rude, and I’ve been raised to pitch in whenever I can. Meg’s an old friend.
If only she would accept the fact that we only will ever be friends. If she can’t, I’m going to have to start putting more distance between us to make my boundaries clearer.
“I’ll help. I’ll see if Rob can come too.”
“Thank you, Trevvy!”
“Trevor,” I mutter. “I’ll meet you at your parents’ house after I mow lawns in the morning.”
“You’re the best!”
It’s no use trying to correct her use of that nickname. I tried. She’s stuck on calling me Trevvy. And, yes. Lexi heard it. I threatened to never show up to her home with warm baked goods again if she ever repeats the nickname or mocks it in my presence. What she does behind my back is fair game. I can only ask so much.
I turn back to my work and then I shoot Rob a text. He responds saying he’ll meet me at Meg’s in the morning. What can I say? Misery loves company. Plus, with him there, I’ll hopefully have a barrier to Meg latching onto me.
On the drive home Lexi asks me what I’m doing this weekend and I reluctantly share my plans to help with the move. Lexi goes silent for a full six minutes afterward. I don’t completely understand the animosity between these two women. It’s almost like Lexi feels jealous. I know she’s not, but I can’t really explain the level of aversion she has toward Meg.
* * *
After helping Meg move,I head over to my brother Aiden’s farm. Apparently, I need a healthy dose of fresh air and dwarf goats to get the past few hours out of my system. Don’t ask.
Aiden does remote IT work for various companies as an independent consultant. He’s two years older than me and has been single since he broke things off with his high-school sweetheart, Milly Greene, three years ago. After their relationship imploded, Aiden decided to buy a run-down farm and refurbish the property.
