Page 11 of Once Bitten, Twice Fried
Julie looked right, left, up and down. The space was really huge. It was an old warehouse sitting on the banks of the Brussels Canal. She had no idea what it used to be used for, but it was an amazing space to organise a music festival. She’d really outdone herself for location scouting this time. Though Lucile, who was the project manager at the festival organisation, seemed more into attending the festival itself than setting it up.
“For sure, we can put the mezzanine over this back wall.” Julie pointed to the left side of the building. “It will come at maybe three metres height so looking out at the balloons will make it look like some sort of canopy. With the right lighting, there will be a very cool effect.”
“Nice. Nice, nice, nice. I can’t wait to see this!” Lucile was walking around with stars in her eyes.
“But that’s not for sure yet, right? We need to discuss the budget and planning schedule.”
“Oh yeah. That’s right.”
The last word echoed in the silence of the warehouse. Julie started to feel cold. The day was not particularly chilly, but the drafts coming into the warehouse were making her regret wearing only her suede bomber jacket over her striped sailor top. Julie crossed her arms.
“Do you want to discuss them now?” She asked as Lucile was still busy looking around.
“No, sorry. I need to tell my boss about this place first. Why don’t I drop by your office on Monday? I’m sure he’ll be thrilled with the potential.”
“Sure. You have my phone number and email address.”
Lucile took her phone out and started taking pictures. Julie took it as an opportunity to leave. It was getting much too cold.
“I’ll be on my way then. I’ll tell the security guard to close it after you leave.”
“Yes yes, thanks!” Lucile answered distractedly.
Julie quickly walked to her car, a grey Golf. She got behind the driving wheel and started warming up again. All in all, this had been a good meeting: Lucile was very happy with the space and any design suggestion Julie made was warmly welcomed. Of course, there was always a difference between what a client wanted and the budget they had. But Julie felt confident about this. It was a serious organisation that was getting funding from the city itself, so it should be a walk in the park. She sighed with relief. She was grateful to have an easy client this week, since she hadn’t been sleeping well lately.
Not since Zoe had answered positively to Yasmine’s catering request.
Julie had no idea what to make of it. Her body had gone into full panic mode when Yasmine had told her and for the rest of the week, her mind couldn’t focus on anything other than Zoe. It was over ten years ago already, why was she still reacting like this? Why couldn’t she let go of a dumb crush she’d had in her early 20s? Julie turned the radio on, looking for a sign. “Can’t Hurry Love” started blaring. She turned it back off.
She started the car, deciding that she could drive back to the office to answer a few emails, then call it a day. Fridays were never particularly busy at her job. It was a short drive to her office, which was also located near the canal. Come to think of it, maybe Julie could have just walked there. Or take one of these rentable bikes. Maybe her ex had been right when she’d sold her car to force her to be more environmentally friendly? Julie shook her head for even entertaining the idea.
The office was in a trendy neighbourhood, in an old renovated garage which they shared with a photography studio and some sort of web start-up. Julie was almost sure they were designing an app for something, but every time she would run into one of the people from that office, her mind would automatically shut down at the computer jargon. She walked through the open space and sat down at her desk, next to the big arched window. It was quiet this afternoon; the few people who were still there were graphic designers trying to meet end-of-week deadlines.
On a whim, she decided to google Zoe’s name while she waited for her emails to load. Her curiosity was still gnawing at her, and she knew she wouldn’t get much work done unless she indulged herself at least a little bit. Maybe she’d look at photos of Zoe and realise she felt nothing. Maybe she’d find out that Zoe was now a terrible person who had terrible rich-people hobbies like hunting endangered animals for sport. Maybe her career was going down the drain and everyone thought she was a badcook, and she just needed someone to come along and whisk her away. Someone like Julie…
The first image that came up was Zoe and a handsome dark-haired man, gazing at each other lovingly. Julie’s stomach dropped. She clicked through to the accompanying article and her stomach dropped further. The handsome man was up-and-coming British actor Tom Wright, and he had been engaged to Zoe for over a year. They had a house in London, and were very happy together. Halfway down the article was another picture of Zoe, alone this time and smiling serenely into the camera. Julie gazed at the photo and felt her blood hammering in her ears. Zoe was even more beautiful than the last time Julie had seen her, and even more unavailable. Julie was doomed. She wondered briefly if she could back out of being Yasmine’s bridesmaid. But then she would have to explain why, which was definitely worse. Looking Zoe up had been a terrible idea. It had only confirmed that her feelings hadn’t gone away, even after more than ten years.
She closed the window and started going through her unread emails, but she didn’t have the energy to deal with any of them. It was 4:30 pm on a Friday. She was kidding herself if she thought she’d get any more work done on a day like today. Even though she’d been back in the office for less than 20 minutes, there was no point in hanging around any longer. She started packing her things back up to go home.
* * *
As soon as she got back into her apartment, Julie collapsed onto her sofa. The problem, she thought, was that stupid kiss. That one kiss that ruined everything a lifetime ago. Zoe and her had hit it off pretty quickly, becoming instant best friends. And sure, Julie had thought she was cute, but she had not even hadthe slightest idea how hopelessly in love with Zoe she would eventually become. Countless late nights studying (occasionally) or partying (frequently) had meant it was often easier to crash at whoever’s flat was closest, both of them crammed into a single bed, than to go all the way home. It was never easy to share a bed with Zoe, with her limbs all tangled up in Julie’s, but after the kiss, Julie had found it impossible. One stupid drinking game, several too many beers, and one ridiculous dare. It had been in front of all their friends, who had laughed uproariously as their lips awkwardly met. Zoe and Julie had laughed too, in the moment. But once they were in the safety of Julie’s apartment that night, they found that that kiss had opened up the possibility for another. And another. And with her arms wrapped around Zoe and Zoe’s hands on her waist, they’d kissed until they’d fallen asleep. Somehow that night, their bodies had fit together perfectly.
The next day, Julie had woken up to find Zoe already on her way out the door. She’d thought they might talk about it later, but Julie was too shy to bring it up and she supposed it didn’t matter much to Zoe. Moreover, Julie didn’t want to hurt herself more by pursuing a straight girl who would be gone in a few weeks.
Julie suddenly jumped. She had fallen asleep on her couch and the sound of her phone buzzing had woken her up.
“Any plans tonight? Wanna go to the bar?”
It was a text from her friend Claire. Julie sat up and scrubbed her eyes. She probably could use the distraction from pining after Zoe alone in her apartment.
“Yeah, meet you at 8 pm? Which bar are we talking about?”
An answer arrived a few seconds afterwards.
“Perfect. THE bar, obviously.”
Julie knew what she meant. Brussels had a pretty good gay bar scene, but nearly all of them were exclusively frequentedby men. Women all congregated in one tiny hole in the wall and constantly fretted that it would be taken over by hipsters, but they were warded off by a certain chaotic energy that only a lesbian bar could have. This was how it survived in all these years, and Julie was thankful for that.
