Page 77 of A Me and Him Thing
My boyfriend doesn’t say anything because I haven’t spoken to him in so long. I dreamed of kissing Ren last night. We shared a relationship, and I’ve never even kissed him. Pathetic.
“Where would you like to go?” I ask, wondering if I can call her Zess for short.
“I love the McDonald’s down the road. Sound good?”
I freeze. McDonald’s? We’re surrounded by umpteen adorable individually owned small restaurants that offer unique dining experiences. Don’t get me wrong, I crave a Big Mac every now and again. Okay, probably once a week. But it’s not usually a place for a lunch date with a coworker.
Whatever. I’ll just go with the flow.
“Okay. Let’s go.” Why not? I need a friend.
The walk to McDonald’s is uncomfortable in the confines of a pencil skirt. Thank goodness for my Dior heeled sandals. They’re like walking on clouds. My Armani coat keeps me warm on this chilly January day.
I ask Zessica where she’s from. Her constant chatter about growing up in a small town makes the time go by faster. I can’t even tell you what she said. I was only half listening. Guess I’m not a very good friend. Add it to the ever-growing list ofBree’s Faults.
We’re way overdressed for lunch at McDonald’s, but we forge ahead anyway, placing our orders. Zessica doesn’t pull out her wallet when the total is due. So I go ahead and pay for both of our lunches. Not that it’s expensive or anything.
I’m surprised she wanted to go to McDonald’s because she ordered a salad. Of course, she added fries and a milkshake too, canceling out her healthy choice. I unapologetically order myself a Big Mac supersized meal. Go big or go home. I’ll run it off tomorrow.
We grab a table as I ask about Zessica’s family. Our meal consists of her telling me about her life, which somewhat resembles a soap opera.
“So after my mom and dad got divorced, my mom realized she’d married the wrong brother. She married my Uncle Jim next, which created a lot of family drama. Their marriage didn’t last long, though. She remarried my dad a year later. Now they just pretend the whole Uncle Jim episode never happened.”
Just like the Bree and Sawyer episode never happened.
I listen to her stories, suddenly feeling like my life is normal and boring, which is saying a lot. I watch her dip her French fries in mustard instead of ketchup as she tells me about her rivalry with her best friend during high school.
“So my best friend, Deb, makes the cheerleading team, and I don’t. She totally stops hanging out with me, stops eating lunch with me, and stops talking to me. Then she gets herself kicked off the squad for missing too many practices. Suddenly, we’re best friends again. And she just expects me to forget what she did to me and accept her back into my life. Can you believe it? I told her no way and found myself a new friend. Who needs someone like that in their life?”
I release a heavy sigh. I miss Quinn. Zessica has not asked me one single question about myself. She has only talked about herself the entire time.
Like I used to do to Quinn. She listened to me go on and on about my life. But she really listened and would offer advice or her opinion in return.
And it wasn’t a one-way street. In turn, I listened to Quinn as well. I knew all about her life and what she was going through.
I need Quinn. She’s my rock, the person who keeps me grounded, who keeps me happy.
My lunch with Zessica wasn’t a waste. It made me realize how much I need my best friend.
The thing is, in essence, I dumped Quinn for the “head cheerleader.” In my defense, I thought Quinn was dead. But there’s an unwritten rule—that’s probably written somewhere—about going after your best friend’s husband. I broke that rule.
Unlike Zessica, who refused Deb, I think Quinn might take me back. She waved me off and didn’t let me say what I really wanted to say to her during our first visit after I’d left. She’d acted as though I didn’t need to apologize. But I do. I need to apologize profusely. I’ll get down on my hands and knees and beg for forgiveness if that’s what it takes. I know I was in the wrong.
Quinn made the first move by inviting me to her baby shower. I know our friendship will never be what it once was. It’s notpossible. But if I can just call her every once in a while, or just meet up for lunch every now and again, I’d be a happy camper.
Zessica glances outside the window, yelping when she sees a bright yellow Camaro. She jumps to her feet. “Oh! That’s my boyfriend. He thought he couldn’t make it for lunch, but now he’s here. Gotta go. See ya, Betsy.”
After she exits the building, I mumble, “It’s Breanna.”
DURING THE WALKback to work, I can think of nothing but Quinn. After my first apology visit, she reached out to me about her baby shower. The ball’s in my court.
I gather up my courage and call her. Her ringtone for me is probably the theme song for Darth Vader.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Quinn.” Oh brother. I sound like a scared mouse.
“Hey, Bree. How are things with you? It’s nice to hear from you.” She knows it’s me after only two words. Or maybe caller ID on her cell made it obvious.
