Page 6 of Fun at Parties
She plucks off the Post-it note I left on the lid.Today is going to be a great day!it says, with a happy face drawn in glitter gel ink. Charitably, she resists pointing out the inaccuracy of my prediction. “At Bailey’s party?” she asks instead, and I nod. “That’s perfect. I’ll give you a card to bring her from me. I wish I could make it.”
The bond they have—as two people who’ve met a grand total of one time—is unnerving. Sometimes Michelle is better at staying in touch with Bailey than I am.
“But what should I do with the first two weeks?” I ask.
“Deliver Tim’s car.” Michelle bats her lashes with a cheeky grin.
Michelle’s husband recently decided to relocate from Manhattan to the Connecticut suburbs, so he needs a vehicle. He has one here but hasn’t had a chance to come fetch it yet.
She’s joking, but it immediately feels right. After all, the last time I felt like myself was when I drove from Philly to L.A. “That’s a great idea.”
I can take another road trip. With three weeks, I’ll be able to take my time getting to New Jersey. When I moved out here, I took the most direct route possible, straight across the belly of the country, making the minimum number of stops.
“I’ve always wanted to take the northern route,” I say. “I’ll do things in nature. Visit national parks. I’ll go for walks and breathe fresh air and listen to silence. It’ll belikeWild.” By the end of the trip, my head will be as clear as an uncorrupted mountain spring.
Michelle shakes her head. “Have you actually readWild? Or seen the movie?”
“Sure. Parts of it.” The trailer, I think. Or at least the poster, with a resilient Reese Witherspoon wearing a backpack and contemplating something profound, a gorgeous landscape behind her. My fingers are itching to research routes and sights to see.
By the time this trip is over, I’ll be ready to focus on my goals again, make real friends here besides Michelle, and love the amazing life and job I have here in California. I’ll come back strong and composed and inspired, and nobody will be able to call me cold.
I type out a response to Bailey.Road-tripping to Seapoint! I love you so much I’m driving across an entire continent to see you. Please be waiting with a cocktail.There. Now I can’t change my mind.
Michelle turns on the blender, and I head down the hall to toss my sweaty clothes into the hamper. My room is small and tidy. Above Michelle’s old walnut guest bed, I hung a disco ball that scatters morning sunlight across the ceiling every day.
On the wall next to my closet is a collage I made when I moved in, with a grainy photo of me in my old studio in Philly next to my fancy CycleLove headshot.I can do hard thingssays the little card I pasted below the two. There are pictures of my friends: one of us sprawled out in the sand with frizzy ocean hair, another of us at the housewarming party Bailey and I threw when we moved into our apartment. I only lived there for three weeks before Igot the CycleLove job and had to scramble to help her find a new roommate.
Above the photos is a postcard featuring a sketch of the Santa Monica Pier and a piece of notebook paper with another quote I love:If you want to change your life, change your mind.
My fingers are itching to check what people are saying about me online, so I shove my phone in my nightstand drawer. Safer to keep temptation at a distance. Then, I shower, drink my smoothie, and chop the fresh celery and cantaloupe Michelle picked up at the grocery store this morning.
I used to buy precut produce, until I moved in with Michelle and she taught me that doing so was a convenient way of julienning my hard-earned American dollars. In fact, I used to make a lot of bad financial choices until Michelle taught me how not to be completely incompetent with money.
When I finally check my phone an hour later, my notifications are chaos. I skip a text from my mom, lacking the energy necessary to figure out why on earth she’s asking for a ring light recommendation, and go right to the Seapoint group chat.
Bailey:Just a PSA that the theme for my party is BACK ON. You all better get on it ASAP to avoid disappointing everyone with a half-assed ensemble!
Giana:What party?
Samuel:My grandparents’ anniversary dinner is next weekend. Maybe she means that?
Bailey:I hate you both.
Logan:AWW I miss Miguel and Margaret so much. I’d spend weeks planning my outfit if they invited me to celebrate their love with them
Nate:As usual, I’ll be half-assing my ensemble and feeling great about it.
At the sight of his name—proof that he’s out there somewhere, tethered to me by this group chat—my stomach flips. Which it shouldn’t, because it’s not like Nate and I don’t speak, or even see each other. We always spend time together when one of our other friends is in town.
Bailey:I hate you ALL
Bailey:Except Quinn. She’s driving three thousand miles to get here AND she’s volunteered to take on the role of costume enforcer. That’s love. You should all aspire to be more like Quinn.
Samuel:Quinn, you’re coming?
Logan:I’ve always aspired to be more like Quinn
Giana:Same but I wouldn’t drive three thousand miles for any of you. You’re lucky I’m coming down from Boston. Auggie is FERAL and will be allowed to use his iPad the entire drive, or at least until he throws up.
