Page 86 of Notes About Vodka

Even though I’ve already started giving her mine.

Me: Hey! So what’s on the fancy Liberty House Thanksgiving menu tonight? Gold-plated mashed potatoes?

Laura: Haha, very funny. Just the usual Thanksgiving spread—turkey, stuffing, way too many sides. Why, jealous?

Me: Me? Nooo. I totally prefer cheap karaokebar burgers and drinks that probably taste like liquid regret. At least I’ll have some backup with Mads and a few others from Pianissimo at Off Tune. But hey, at least it's festive in its own way.

Laura: Sounds like a five-star experience.

Me: Exactly. But, you know, would be better if you were here to sing badly with me.

Laura: Oh? What song were you going to butcher in my honor?

Me: Total Eclipse of the Heart, obviously. You know, to really drive home the "missing you" vibe.

Laura: Dramatic. I love it. Record it for me?

Me: Only if you promise to send a video of you pretending to enjoy your overpriced dinner. And no edits—raw footage of your best fake smile.

Laura: Deal… Wait...

Laura: Is Roqui going to be there?

I pause, remembering how upset Laura was that I invited Roqui. Sure, Roquelle is a bit touchy feeling, but she was always like that, even before we dated.

Me: I learned that mistake from your birthday. Roqui is not invited. Have fun with your family, though. You deserve a good night.

Laura: As long as dad actually leaves a decent tip and my step-sister Leigha behaves, all will be good.

Me: Ah, a wildcard. I'll be waiting for updates—preferably with dramatic live commentary.

Laura: Cross fingers, I’m going to try and get my dad and step-mom back to the apartment and join y’all.

Me: Keep me posted, I hope you can make it

Pocketing my phone, I step onto the balcony. I dig the metal of my smoking bat into the dugout, pulling out a hit of weed. Lighting it up, I take a long drag, holding the smoke for as long as possible before I exhale.

The immediate high may relax the muscles in my back, but my heart is still tense with longing.

Blet! Dammit, I really miss my Laura.

Hours later, I’m slightly drunk as Mads and I make our way out of the subway tunnel on Canal and Bowery.

Earlier, we grabbed pizza near NYU, sitting in a cramped booth with red-checkered tablecloths. The pizza was greasy and perfect, and one slice turned into two, which turned into several beers and eventually vodka tonics at a nearby bar.

"So," Mads said, swirling the ice in his glass, "what's the deal with you and Laura?"

I’d shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Just friends. I think."

"You think?" Mads laughed. "Come on, Val. You look at her like she hung the stars. And don't think I haven't noticed all the notes you two pass back and forth at work."

I sighed, setting my glass down. "Yeah, okay. I’m falling for her. Hard."

"Knew it," Mads said with a grin. "You two were pretty cozy at her birthday party the other night."

"Yeah, well, it’s...she's...complicated," I'd admitted. "Family stuff. School."

"Val, she's a woman. Of course it’s complicated," Mads replied."What about you? School still good? NYU keeping you busy?"

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