Page 22 of Once Bitten, Twice Fried
“Excuse me.”
Julie felt a light tap on her arm. Her blood froze. She could recognise that British voice anywhere. She turned around and her face dropped.
Zoe was stunning. Her hair looked even better than on the pictures Julie had seen online. She had a light smile on her face and Julie couldn’t help but look her up and down. The college student she used to know had grown into a beautiful woman with curves in all the right places. Zoe’s eyes were still those two beautiful deep dark circles that could suck the world into them.
“Hi Julie.” Zoe put a hand on Julie’s wrist. “It’s been a while.”
Zoe’s touch was burning like a piece of hot coal. Julie was paralysed. In all the scenarios she ran in her head, this was the worst one and it was the one that was happening right now. The chaos of the group behind Julie was very loud and she was thankful for that. That meant nobody could see the impending disaster that was happening in her corner. She kept thinking how stupid she’d been for not guessing that Zoe had just been to the bathroom or something. And that she was probably sharing the bench with Yasmine, that’s why there were no empty chairs.
Zoe leaned forward and looked into Julie’s bag. “Is there a shirt for me in there?”
Julie blinked stupidly at her, struggling to answer. Her English was quite good - in college, it had been all she ever spoke with Zoe, whose French was pretty limited, and she often worked in English with foreign clients. But now, while she’d understood Zoe’s question in English perfectly, her brain was refusing to supply her with the correct words to respond. It was refusing to supply her with any information, really, besides that Zoe smelled exactly the same as she had the day she’d left Belgium, which was deeply unhelpful. After a moment of spluttering, another thought occurred to her that a linguistic mismatch might be a great excuse to avoid a lot of conversations this weekend. Maybe convincing Zoe that she’d lost her English could be Julie’s way out of this mess?
“Oh sorry.” Zoe looked up and grinned before Julie could start miming her lack of understanding. “Est-ce qu’il y a un t-shirt dans ton sac pour moi?”
Zoe’s pronunciation was perfect. Had she kept on learning French after she’d left Belgium? And why was her slight British accent so cute? Julie wanted to scream. Zoe lifted a brow and moved forward. Too close. Julie forced herself to snap out of it.
“Um” she cleared her throat. “Of course. I counted you in the group when I made these,” she replied in French. No pointin torturing herself further when Zoe clearly understood. She handed Zoe her shirt and could barely feel her own arm any more. Her entire body was numb. Zoe took the shirt, her hand brushing against Julie’s. Zoe laughed as she unfolded the t-shirt. Julie felt a piece of her heart break off and fly away as soon as she heard that crystal laugh for the first time in years. She knew she was a goner.
“This is brilliant! Did you make it yourself?” Zoe looked at Julie. A soft warm look.
“Yeah. A graphic designer at work showed me some tricks.” Julie added without thinking, “To thank me for helping her build her IKEA couch.”
Zoe chuckled. “Her IKEA couch?”
“Yes, you know? They’re kinda tricky if you don’t follow all the steps properly.” Julie was amazed that she was talking to a woman she had an absurd crush on and who was a famous celebrity. And the topic she chose was… IKEA couches? She had no idea what else to do as Zoe continued on the subject.
“I remember that you were not that great at following IKEA instructions. Like that time Yasmine and I bought a cupboard and you had to build, unbuild and rebuild it all afternoon.”
Oh god. She remembered that day very clearly. It was an unusually warm and sunny day somewhere in mid-October. Zoe had asked her for her help and Julie had very gallantly said yes. But she hadn’t imagined that Zoe would be wearing tiny denim shorts for the entire afternoon. Needless to say, Julie had been quite distracted from the building instructions.
“I guess I’ve gotten better?” This was going very badly. Julie tried to remember Claire’s advice from lunch time.Just avoid her at all costs. You’re so doomed.What else was she supposed to do? Even having small talk about building Swedish kit furniture with Zoe made Julie weak in the knees. She couldn’tstand it for another second. She spun away from Zoe, taking no notice of whether Zoe was responding to what she’d just said.
“Sarah! Where are we going next?” Julie called to another one of Yasmine’s cousins, who had also studied with them in university. Sarah knew what her role was here. She stood up with her hands in the air.
“OK girls! Who’s ready for a pub crawl?” A chorus of cheers answered her and Yasmine was pulled out of her seat by two hens. The hen do was officially on its way.
The group left the restaurant and headed towards their first bar on the list. Julie tried to keep up with the head of the group, painfully aware that Zoe was walking behind her alongside Maria, another of their university friends. Julie laughed along with whatever the people in front of her - Yasmine, Sarah, Leila and Marion - were saying, even though she couldn’t hear all of it. She jostled in behind them as they entered a cramped bar. It wasn’t anything special, really, but it somehow had an effortlessly laid-back atmosphere that helped Julie relax her shoulders just a tiny bit. Everyone else headed to an empty table in the back, but Julie diverted towards the bar to order 7 - wait, 8 - shots, plus a half-pint of beer for herself. Everyone else had gotten a head start on her at the restaurant, and Zoe’s presence was enough to make her limbs tense up. She needed something to help her relax. The group loudly cheered as she walked back with a tray with tiny glasses filled with tequila on it. They were all sitting around a small wooden table with chairs and stools that they had grabbed from other parts of the bar. Julie was extremely relieved to see that the only spot available was far away from Zoe. She deposited the tray on the table, grabbed her beer off it, and moved towards the empty chair.
“Wait! Julie!” Alice, yet another friend from college, waved at her and stood up. “You should catch up with Zoe!” Julie cursed inwardly but couldn’t be mad at Alice. She was just being nice.
“Oh thanks Alice! That’s very kind of you.” Zoe exclaimed as she shifted to make room for Julie to sit next to her.
Julie slowly walked towards her, trying hard to smile and be as relaxed as possible.
“A half-pint of beeranda shot of tequila? You’re drinking like we’re still in college.” Zoe had entirely switched to speaking French. She seemed totally comfortable with it, like she’d never left Brussels.
Julie nodded as she gulped her beer. She was saved from having to answer Zoe as Leila handed her a shot. Julie knew this was the worst idea ever. They were all in their thirties, they would regret this so much tomorrow. But she licked her hand covered in salt, drank her shot in one go and chewed on her slice of lemon like a good sport. She still couldn’t help but pucker her mouth at the taste. It tasted like being 21 years old. She felt Zoe shudder next to her.
“Oh god. I’m still a wuss after all these years.” Zoe was shaking her head, her full shot glass still in hand. She turned towards Julie. “You drank that all at once. That’s impressive.”
Julie nodded again, without adding anything.
“So, what are you up to these days?” Zoe asked.
Julie hesitated. She couldn’t be a jerk and completely ignore Zoe just because she had feelings for her. She would try to keep the conversation short. “I’m an event planner and designer.”
“Oh really! That doesn’t surprise me. In spite of your lack of punctuality, I remember you were quite good at organising things.”
