Page 9 of Be Your Anything
Otto and Lucas planning a work meeting for later today.
This has been our little routine since we were in high school, a tradition that has seen waves of change in the decade that has passed since our early teen years. Significant others have come and gone, the group changing and shifting and dwindling and growing over the years as we’ve gained responsibilities, moved away for college, started new jobs, returned for holidays, and a million other things.
Through all of that, though, the core of this little group has never lost each other. Lucas, Paige, Wyatt, Otto, and myself—we’ve been friends since childhood, and it makes me happy to know we’re still friends, even now.
Monday Mournings, as we like to call our little ritual, is a staple I don’t think I’ll ever outgrow. We have a reserved table at Mary’s every Monday for brunch where we drink bottomless mimosas—though the guys seem to always prefer something a little harder—and come together to bitch and moan about life and to mourn the end of the weekend.
I missed it desperately when I went away to the east coast for college, even going so far as to try to recreate it with a handful of my sorority sisters. Needless to say, some of the girls saw me as a little elitist for saying they should schedule their college classes around a Monday morning brunch.
Having a bunch of sorority girls at an Ivy League institution see you as elitist is quite the pill to swallow.
I glance at Paige, who is flipping through her phone, and I decide now is the best time to bring up something I’ve been wanting to talk about with the group, before they dive too far back into their conversations.
“Alright, speaking of parties,” I say loudly, flipping the middle finger to Aaron, who groans loudly at the other end of the table at being interrupted again, “I just wanted toofficiallyshare that sometime in the coming weeks, you will all be receiving an invitation for an amazing event I’ve been working on.”
I clasp my hands together and beam at everyone then clear my throat and launch into my well-practiced speech.
“The Roth Foundation is hosting a fundraising dinner to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Bernard J. Roth Preparatory Academy. It will be in September, and the primary list of invitees includes prominent locals and alumni, so I’d absolutelylovefor all of you to attend.”
“So basically you want us all to be there so you aren’t faced with a horde of your mother’s friends?” Paige says.
I nod, my smile not dwindling in the slightest, unsurprised at Paige’s quick appraisal of my ulterior motives. “Exactly.”
Rebecka giggles, and I give her a fake glare that just makes her laugh harder.
“It’ll be the event of the summer,” I add, knowing this group alone decides what the events of each season are.
It’s a fact of life and based simply on our attendance.
Luckily, my group of friends is like an indestructible unit of loyalty. We support each other, even when it’s for seemingly meaningless society events, like this fundraising dinner I’m in charge of, which I’m fairly certain none of them would want to attend without being specifically prompted to go by their parents or friends.
“The better question isn’tifwe’re attending, but who we’re gonnagowith,” Paige says, tapping her chin slightly and looking off into the air, likely filling her mind with the possibilities at hand.
“Isn’t Rebecka’s older brother in town?” Ji-Eun asks, and I refrain from laughing when I see Paige’s eyes light up.
“Reggie’s back from Spain?”
“Yup.”
“I saw him on a run a few days ago,” I add. “He’s been working with a personal trainer. That man is toned, tan, and too sexy.”
“You think Reggie’s sexy?” Lucas asks, a smile on his face.
I open my mouth to respond with the fact that I think he’s sexyfor Paige, but Rebecka interrupts.
“Ugh, I’m right here,” she groans. “And that’s disgusting. He’s my brother.”
Paige ignores Rebecka and keeps her focus on me, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs then tapping her phone against her lips, looking incredibly pleased. “That sounds like a fantastic idea. I could use a really hot date.”
Rebecka gags.
“I also think it’s a great idea,” I finally say to Paige. “All that tan skin and those muscles?” I wiggle my eyebrows up and down. “The perfect anti-Giroux.”
“Giroux is a douche and I have no intention of making decisions based on his douchebaggeryness,” she protests.
Lucas chuckles next to me, and I swat him playfully.
Giroux is Paige’s ex-boyfriend. She was wooed by his fancy accent and charming words last year when he moved to the area with his family, but she was later revolted to find out exactly what kind of man he actually is.
