Page 93 of Composed
She’s dressed to the nines in white lacy corset, high-waisted, wide legged blue jeans, and white heels the same height as mine. Her light, almost-white, blonde hair falls over one shoulder in loose waves, her face painted to perfection.
Theo was always effortlessly beautiful in our teen years.
Theo at thirty-one, with curves for days?
Fuck me.
“Saint’s a lucky man,” I tell her. “You grew up good.”
She kicks a foot behind her ankle, dipping slightly in a bow.
“Why, thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.” Her lips curve. “It’s giving emo barbie with the tats and metal. I like it.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, emo barbie’s about right.”
A horn honks from across the road.
Theo twists, her fingers wiggling in a wave.
I squint.
Saint hangs out the window, a lit cigarette dangling between his fingers as he smirks. “Behave yourselves.”
“We shall not,” Theo quips. She blows him a kiss, which he pretends to catch and press to his heart. “Now, be gone. Girls night. Love you!”
“Love you,” he shouts back, before flicking his gaze to me, his expression unreadable.
I tip my head and brush my hands over my thighs.
A beat passes.
Then he honks once more, before wheels screech and he’s gone.
“That man.” A laugh tinkles from her, and she links arm through mine, her head coming up to my shoulders. “Now, let’s go and down our body weight in cocktails. I’m positively parched.”
I let her drag me down the street and into a dimly lit bar.
She finds a small booth in the back.
A candle flickers in the centre of the table, casting an orange glow over us, as soft, supple jazz music soundtracks the venue.
I snatch a menu up with trembling hands.
Theo taps her pink nails against the ebony tabletop.
“So.” I pop my lips. “How have you been over the last decade?”
“Really?” Theo grimaces. “You’re gonna do the small talk thing?”
I wince. “I’m scraping the barrel here.”
“I see that.” She snorts, pushing her hair behind one ear. “But okay. I’ve been good. Still married. Love of my life and all that jazz. I teach kids balletnow. My best friends are four men, who annoy the shit out of me on a daily basis. And my family still fucking suck all these years later.”
She tilts her head my way. “Your turn.”
“I’ve been okay.” I tug my tongue stud between my teeth until it aches. “Not married. Not dating. My best friends are two women, who I adore. And honestly, I think you’d really like them. Maybe we can set something up where you can meet them. If you want.”
She nods emphatically. “I want. I crave female friendship.”
