Page 15 of Like You Want It
I drop my phone into my bag without a reply, laughing to myself about how ridiculous my best friend is.
Dina is sassy in a fun way, but she has the biggest heart and I love her to death.
When Theo moved out and I cleansed my apartment, she came over with a six-pack of wine, because apparently that’s a thing, and all of the cheese and salami and bread she could find. Wine and charcuterie boards became our go to for girl’s night. A concept she takesveryseriously, though I know she’s not actually upset about me spending time with Susie.
As I stand in the check out line, I try to think back to the last time Dina and I had a proper girl’s night with wine and facemasks and gossip. It used to be routine. Dancing on Monday nights, wine and cheese on Fridays.
But our schedules are just different now. She got a new dream job a few months ago working for a tech startup, and I’ve been working a second job at the gym around the corner from my house.
People used to say it when I was younger. That as you get older, you grow apart.
I don’t want that to happen to me and Dina. I’ll just have to make sure I point it out to her so we can make our friendship a priority. Bitches before riches and all that.
I check out of the grocery, then head out to my car and start the short drive home, looking forward to cleaning off the sticky sweat from my yoga class earlier this evening.
I work forty hours a week at The Steam Room, but also teach yoga at the gym around the corner from my house. Monday and Wednesday nights, and alternating Saturday mornings.
Having a second job was something I kind of fell into at a time when I really needed an extra bit of cash, but I really enjoy it. There’s something calming about a room full of people who are all focused on their health, both the physical and mental.
However, working that extra ten to fifteen hours a week really poops me out. So, by the time Thursday evening finally rolls around, I am so so so ready for a goblet of wine with Susie.
“Welcome, welcome!” I say as Susie sets a bottle of rosé on the table and eyes my apartment warily. “I’ll give you a tour in a second, but feel free to snoop while I set out the snackies. And keep an eye out for Cabbie. She’s a snuggler and would love your pets.”
I try not to watch her as I unwrap salami and prosciutto to put on my charcuterie board, though I can’t help but enjoy the different reactions people have to my apartment.
Honestly, I know it’s a bit of a shit show. But it’s also a very strategic shit show. It might look like a box of highlighters exploded in here, but everything works well together. All of the different pinks match, and the blues and yellows are accent colors on the same palette. I mean, I’m not a total monster.
I’m putting a slab of blue cheese on my big, wooden chopping board when she glances over from where she’s standing at my bookshelf with a smirk.
“Find something interesting?” I ask, walking over and taking a look at where her eyes are.
I find her looking at my very small, almost embarrassing movie collection.
“Alright, so a few things,” I say, before she can speak her mind. “I’m not a collector. I might enjoy having a bright apartment, but I want it to be clean and well organized. So, it has never worked in my favor to collect a million movies. Plus, most of the good ones you can watch on Netflix.”
She squints at me. “I feel like you’re not being completely honest.”
I sigh. “I had a ton of movies once. But then I also had a boyfriend who took most of them when he moved out. I’ve just never seen the point in buying them all again.”
She nods, her eyes flitting around my living room. “I feel like I get it now.”
I try to follow her line of sight, but then when I look back at her, there’s a little bit of mischief lightening the brown in her eyes.
“What do you get?”
She shrugs. “Nothing.” Then she wanders over to my expertly organized tray and pops a cracker it into her mouth.
I scowl at her. “Secrets don’t make friends.”
She giggles, but doesn’t add anything else. Then she goes right back to snooping.
“So what’s the deal with your brother?” I ask, picking up the food and walking over to place it on the coffee table.
Susie sits down on the floor, leaning against my couch, and reaches out for a piece of bread. “What do you mean?”
“Did he not tell you about our little chat the other day?” She shakes her head and I laugh, snagging my glass and the bottle of wine before joining her on the floor.
“Well, he mentioned that he met you,” she corrects.
