Page 75 of Not Your Basic Love Story

The presentation ended, and the four of us on the couch stared at the blank screen.

“Any other questions? Concerns?” Priya asked, looking like the future CEO of a Fortune 500 company.

Of course, I had questions and concerns. I had many other feelings, too. But I wasn’t going to lay them all on Priya. My little wedding in the woods had suddenly exploded into a giant, extremely intricate and lavish party of over five hundred people.

Angelina filled up my glass.

The night went on from there. We all dressed up and went out for dinner at a rooftop patio with panoramic views of the mountains. Angelina kept sneaking Priya sips of her martinis. Miranda kept chastising her younger sister. Miranda and Nicole’s conversations fluttered from pregnancy to weddings. I drowned out my worries, and the overwhelming amount of information Priya had so casually laid upon me, with a pitcher of sangria and various girlie shots that came my way. After dinner, Priya and Angelina went back to the condo, as Priya was too young to get into any of the clubs. We’d suggested joining them, but they insisted they’d be fine without us and encouraged us to have fun.

And you know what? We did. Nicole was actually a blast to hang out with. At one point, we found ourselves in a karaoke bar, and they even attempted to show me the choreographed dance moves they had forBarbie Girl.The night ended with a traditional trip to McDonald's, and we carried our bags of greasy food back up to the condo.

The door opened, and smoke billowed out.

I coughed in the haze. “What the hell?”

The girls had hotboxed the condo. There was giggling, a door slamming shut, more giggling.

Miranda coughed and ran to open a window. “Angelina Veronica Meyers! I’m pregnant, for fucks sake!”

Nicole and I laughed, apparently already high from the contact fumes, and got to work opening windows to air out the joint. Ha. Joint. Damn, I really was high.

And extra hungry.

We sat out on the balcony and ate our spoils, all of us reeking of cannabis.

Angelina and Priya joined us several minutes later, unable to avoid the smell of delicious, deep-fried goodness. Miranda glared at her sister, then laughed, and before we knew it, we were all laughing.

I sighed, sides aching. “Thanks for this, guys. I mean it. I’m really lucky to have you all in my life.”

Smiles, group hugs, and happy chatter filled the balcony until we’d all eaten our fill. Afterwards, Miranda announced she was going to bed. I smooched her cheek, and she got up to leave.

“Me, too,” Angelina said.

“Samesies,” Priya agreed, both of them standing.

I glanced over to Nicole, who was staring out at the night sky dreamily. We sat in silence, alone on the balcony, a weight palpable between us. I had to saysomething. I let out a steadying exhale.

“You know, Nicole. I’m glad you came tonight. I know we’ve never really gotten along in the past, but it was fun being out with you.”

She looked at me, and tears welled in her eyes. Honest to God, tears. “I’m so glad you invited me!”

Then she hugged me, her expensive perfume mixing with the weed and Mcdonald's to produce a somewhat noxious combination. I patted her back.

She pulled away and wiped at her eyes. “Sorry, it’s been a rough few weeks. I don’t have a lot of friends. My one work friend I thought I could trust betrayed me a while back, and I came close to losing my job. So now I’m like a pariah there. It’s probably only a matter of time before I get fired. And… and Chaz. He’s gone all the time for games. I’m alone in that big house. Thank god I have Miranda, you know? She’s always there when I need someone to talk to.”

I rubbed her back. I wanted to say something along the lines of ‘if you weren’t such a bitch maybe you’d have more friends,’ but I realized the comment applied to me, as well, and held my tongue.

Nicole sniffed. “I’m pretty sure Chaz is cheating on me.”

“What? What makes you think that?”

She chuckled. “Just look at him. He’s gone more than he’s home, and when he is home, he doesn’t really seem interested. We only have sex like twice a week now, which is basically nothing. And he won’t let me look at his phone.”

I didn’t really think twice a week was a shortness of sex, but okay. “Doesn’t seem like anything to me…”

“He’s done it before. I found underwear in his car. Some fucking fan girl, probably. Ugh. Damn puck bunnies.”

“Nic, if he’s cheating on you… why do you put up with it? I mean, look at you. You’re drop-dead gorgeous, and smart, and you’re a self-made person. If you can’t trust him, why marry him?”

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