Page 47 of At First Smile
Even heartbreak isn’t a good enough reason to cancel boozy brunch with Trina and JoJo. Though, is this heartbreak? As Trina repeated no less than five times, after JoJo called her to debrief on the drive home from LAX last night, I didn’t really know Rowan. My heart isn’t computing this fact. Last night after JoJo dropped me off, I sank into the oversized clawfoot tub in my en-suite and lost myself in a good long cry with Adele as accompaniment. Add a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and I was a crushed-girl cliché.
“No more tears,” I command, my eyes fix on my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
I’ll pack away all the reasons for each tear. Rowan’s deception. My falling for it, for him. The way he left me at baggage claim. Amid all the reasons for my tears, the one that stings the most is that I’ll never see him again.
Dashing away one last tear, I grab the hairbrush off the counter and sweep my long hair into a high ponytail. Perhapsthe bouncy hairdo will force a smile on my face, even if it’s the one I reserve for my mother.
When the doorbell rings, I pat my hands against my cheeks, hoping they add some color to my pale face. “You know you’re sad whenyoucan see it on your own face.” My mouth forms a small smile at my bad blind joke. “You got this,” I assure myself and head downstairs.
Boozy brunch started during my junior year, after I turned twenty-one. Trina flew in to celebrate my birthday. After a night drinking far too many cocktails, me being persuaded to do a blowjob shot on my knees with my hands tied behind my back at a drag show, and flirting with many, many cute boys, we woke up Sunday with the Kilimanjaro of hangovers.
JoJo’s answer, “Pastries and bubbles!” She theorized the best way to deal with a hangover is to push it to the next day.
What started as a hangover remedy has become our Sunday tradition. Trina video calls in from Buffalo with donuts from her parent’s shop and Bloody Marys. JoJo brings the bubbles and pastries. I host.
I open the door and smile. “Hey.”
“Oh babe, you’ve been crying!” JoJo exclaims, a bottle of champagne in each hand and a bakery bag dangling from her wrist.
“Aargh!” I bury my face into my hands. “I shouldn’t be crying this much! Not over a man. I’m a strong ass woman, not a blithering girl-child.”
“Oh, Pen.” JoJo wraps her arms around me, cold moisture wets my dress from the press of both bottles against me.
“Now my dress is wet,” I whine.
“Sorry.” Laughing, she pulls back. “It’s okay to be emotional after what happened. You haven’t been open to dating anyone since Prince Joffrey.”
A wet laugh builds in my throat at just one of the plethora of not-so-nice names JoJo and Trina have bestowed on Alex.
“It doesn’t take my master’s degree to know the tears are a combo of possibly losing someone you really,reallylike and a tiny bit of fear that this is two men in a row who have disappointed you.”
“Possibly?”
She shrugs. “I’m an optimist.”
“What’s there to be optimistic about?” I wave my hands around as if the movement punctuates how very,verywrong she is. “He hid who he was and then just disappeared.”
“Not to play the sighted ableist card, but you didn’t see his face. He was conflicted, pained, terrified, and remorseful. Plus, my spidey-sense and everything you shared last night tells me that he’s not Alex. I don’t think him withholding who he was had anything to do with manipulation or control. It was about something else.”
Fresh tears drip down my cheeks at the echo of the sadness in Rowan’s voice as he talked about being a disappointment to the people he loves. I’d reassured him that I saw him. The Rowan I saw wouldn’t intentionally hurt me.
Still, he’d said he couldn’t walk away from me, but he did.
“He just left me.”
“Only after he knew I was there. He made sure you had your people. That you weren’t alone.” Her tone soft and coaxing.
But I am alone.My best friends are here for me, but the two people who made me pulse with need aren’t. One I can never have back. The other I fear I’ll never see again and worse, I’m terrified of what will happen if I do.
I swallow thickly. “I don’t want boozy brunch to be all about Rowan. I just want to drink, laugh with my friends, and forget about this.”
“Denial it is.” She sighs. “Go wash your face before Trina sees you or she’ll go all mother of dragons and find out where Rowan lives and burn down his house.”
“She wouldn’t…” I frown. “I’ll go wash my face.”
Face washed;I join JoJo on the patio. Beneath a giant yellow umbrella, we sip mimosas, eat pastries, and grill Trina about her nonexistent wedding plans after getting engaged three months ago. Her scowly, scrunched face, fills the screen from the laptop we’ve positioned at one of the four place settings atop the circular-shaped glass table.
JoJotsks. “What kind of high performer are you? How do you not have a venue or a date? I already have my venue selected.”
