me,” I say and feel that white wash of sweat when you know you’re about to argue with your best friend.
“I thought you’d want to know about Asher…but that, you know, you felt a bit guarded asking because of everything that went down in London.”
“Oh,” I say and wonder if it means I’m totally over him because that’s not what I wanted to ask at all. Okay, maybe a little. “Asher’s in the past.”
“But Henry’s in the future?” Arabella asks and waits for me to go on.
I shrug but in the let’s not fight way not in the whatever way. “It’s not that I like him. It’s more that I feel like there’s some fucked up vibe with him and you and me.”
Arabella drops my hair and sits on the closed lid of the toilet. We stay there in the quiet, semi-blue light of the bathroom and I sit on the edge of the tub. “Love…” Arabella picks at her cuticles then looks at me. “First off, I want to say that tonight’s your night to go have fun. Drink, eat, and be merry and hang out or hook up with whomever you like.”
“I love that you said whomever.”
“You can take the girl out of Britain…” Arabella starts but then her smile fades. “Have you and Henry gotten together already? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“No,” I say and shake my head. “Not at all. I mean, he gave me a backrub on the beach…”
“So basically he wants to…” Ararbella looks sad, but determined not to show this. But I can always tell how she feels — not because of her eyes like everyone always says — but because of her lips. Her mouth gives everything away, how the corners tug down just slightly.
I shrug and shake again. “I can’t really tell. But — how do you feel about it, Bels You look —”
“If he liked you…or if he tried to have you sleep at his place tonight, would you?”
“Would I sleep with him? No. No way. But the idea of kissing him…” I picture Henry’s grin, his friendly face, his beach body. “He does give a girl ideas…”
“I think you should do what you want,” Arabella says all in one breath and it’s as though I can hear her uncompleted thought “as long as it’s not with Henry”.
My friend and I stare at each other and then I slide backward into the bathtub and land on my butt. She pulls me out. “So there’s nothing else you want to tell me?” I ask. She shakes her head. “Then why did it — does it — feel bizarre to bring his name up?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s too triangular or like if we have to tell each other every detail of our time with him it just feels competitive.”
“Maybe that’s what he wants,” I suggest and slick Arabella’s deep blue-red lipstick on my mouth, blow an exaggerated kiss to myself then wipe the goop off with a tissue.
Arabella smiles from one side of her mouth, a look that always makes her seem like she’s tasted something sweet. “Nothing’s bizarre as long as we tell each other. The not telling you was the weird thing…And the not hearing from you. When you came back from the beach that day and Chris was here, I kept waiting for you to sit me down and tell me the story like you do — you know, first he said this and then you said this and he looked at you like this. And now I know he gave you a backrub then. But nothing else, right?”
“No — nothing. But, see, why are you so curious?”
She sighs. “I think since Toby cheated on me I see every non-disclosure as a betrayal or something. It’s like knowing all the details, being in the loop, makes me feel more in control.”
“Do you miss him” I ask. I don’t add the even though he treated you like crap and cheated on you and is overly infatuated with himself .
“I’m so over Tobias.” Arabella pulls me out of the bathroom and into her room so she can change into her “Doug and Ula are coming” work outfit (less summer sloppy and more black pants and a white tee-shirt standard). “And with Henry…just have fun — or don’t.
“I thought you’d want to know about Asher…but that, you know, you felt a bit guarded asking because of everything that went down in London.”
“Oh,” I say and wonder if it means I’m totally over him because that’s not what I wanted to ask at all. Okay, maybe a little. “Asher’s in the past.”
“But Henry’s in the future?” Arabella asks and waits for me to go on.
I shrug but in the let’s not fight way not in the whatever way. “It’s not that I like him. It’s more that I feel like there’s some fucked up vibe with him and you and me.”
Arabella drops my hair and sits on the closed lid of the toilet. We stay there in the quiet, semi-blue light of the bathroom and I sit on the edge of the tub. “Love…” Arabella picks at her cuticles then looks at me. “First off, I want to say that tonight’s your night to go have fun. Drink, eat, and be merry and hang out or hook up with whomever you like.”
“I love that you said whomever.”
“You can take the girl out of Britain…” Arabella starts but then her smile fades. “Have you and Henry gotten together already? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
“No,” I say and shake my head. “Not at all. I mean, he gave me a backrub on the beach…”
“So basically he wants to…” Ararbella looks sad, but determined not to show this. But I can always tell how she feels — not because of her eyes like everyone always says — but because of her lips. Her mouth gives everything away, how the corners tug down just slightly.
I shrug and shake again. “I can’t really tell. But — how do you feel about it, Bels You look —”
“If he liked you…or if he tried to have you sleep at his place tonight, would you?”
“Would I sleep with him? No. No way. But the idea of kissing him…” I picture Henry’s grin, his friendly face, his beach body. “He does give a girl ideas…”
“I think you should do what you want,” Arabella says all in one breath and it’s as though I can hear her uncompleted thought “as long as it’s not with Henry”.
My friend and I stare at each other and then I slide backward into the bathtub and land on my butt. She pulls me out. “So there’s nothing else you want to tell me?” I ask. She shakes her head. “Then why did it — does it — feel bizarre to bring his name up?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s too triangular or like if we have to tell each other every detail of our time with him it just feels competitive.”
“Maybe that’s what he wants,” I suggest and slick Arabella’s deep blue-red lipstick on my mouth, blow an exaggerated kiss to myself then wipe the goop off with a tissue.
Arabella smiles from one side of her mouth, a look that always makes her seem like she’s tasted something sweet. “Nothing’s bizarre as long as we tell each other. The not telling you was the weird thing…And the not hearing from you. When you came back from the beach that day and Chris was here, I kept waiting for you to sit me down and tell me the story like you do — you know, first he said this and then you said this and he looked at you like this. And now I know he gave you a backrub then. But nothing else, right?”
“No — nothing. But, see, why are you so curious?”
She sighs. “I think since Toby cheated on me I see every non-disclosure as a betrayal or something. It’s like knowing all the details, being in the loop, makes me feel more in control.”
“Do you miss him” I ask. I don’t add the even though he treated you like crap and cheated on you and is overly infatuated with himself .
“I’m so over Tobias.” Arabella pulls me out of the bathroom and into her room so she can change into her “Doug and Ula are coming” work outfit (less summer sloppy and more black pants and a white tee-shirt standard). “And with Henry…just have fun — or don’t.
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