Page 14 of Meant to Be

“Hey! Where’s your girlfriend?” Eduardo called out to me.

“Who said I have a girlfriend?” I quipped back.

Eduardo laughed and said, “Youalwayshave a girlfriend, Joey.”

—

The party startedout following my mother’s exact script. My friends and I were all on our best behavior, making polite conversation with my mother and other adults. My friends, especially my female friends, had always been intrigued and impressed by my mother, probably because she was such a legend amongtheirmothers, and that night, I watched the subtle jockeying for position and a chance to talk to her. My mother was pleasant to everyone, but she wasn’t particularly warm to anybody but Berry, a dynamic that seemed to annoy Nicole. Frankly, everything about Berry seemed to annoy Nicole that night, and at one point she accused me of flirting with Berry.

“Ugh, that’s disgusting,” I said. “She’s like a sister to me.”

“But she’snotyour sister.”

“She might as well be.”

“I still think you like her.”

“Of course Ilikeher,” I said, pretending not to know what she was implying.

“No. I mean I think you have athingfor her,” Nicole said. “And she’s clearly in love with you.”

“Stop it. She’s my best friend. That’s all there is to it,” I said, shutting the subject down. Berry was off-limits, and our friendship was not to be questioned.

Of course, my terse reply only amped up Nicole’s jealousy and insecurity, and around ten, as my mother and the other grown-ups were saying their goodbyes, I could feel a wave of girl drama brewing. I chose to ignore it, hoping it would go away, mystrategy for any strife. Meanwhile, my friends and I began to drink, the bartenders ignoring the fact that most of us were underage.

Around one in the morning, long after the party was supposed to be over and when things were really turning wild, Berry cut in between Nicole and me while we made out on the dance floor. “Joe, can I talk to you for a second?”

“What the hell is your problem?” Nicole erupted, staring Berry down.

“Myproblemis that Joe is drunk. And it’s time for him to go home.”

“Stop bossing him,” Nicole said. “You’re not his mother.”

“Well, at least his mother likes me,” Berry said under her breath.

It wasn’t like her to be so petty, and I couldn’t help but smile, which further enraged Nicole. “What’sthatsupposed to mean?” she shouted.

“It means: His mother likes me. And trusts me. And you have terrible judgment. So I’m taking Joe home.Now.” She then turned to me and said, “I’m going to get you a cab. Be outside in five minutes.”

Much to Nicole’s fury, I did as I was told, gathering my things and saying my goodbyes. Then, just as I was headed out the door, one of my friends yelled that the paparazzi were still camped outside. Our collective judgment impaired, we concocted a convoluted getaway plan that involved a decoy and a protective barrier around me. The idea was to prevent any clear photographs on my path to the taxi, although at that point, it was less about privacy and more just a game. As we all spilled onto the street, one of my friends yelled at Eduardo to “get the fuck out of the way, you fat fuck.” Eduardo took it in stride, laughing it off and patting his belly, but another photographer goaded us with insults of his own.

Before I knew what was happening, punches were being thrown, and the city block was illuminated by flashbulbs. Things were a blur after that, but I remember flipping the bird at one of the photographers before Nicole and I got into the backseat of Berry’s waiting cab.

“Goddammit, Joe!” Berry shouted, as we pulled away from the curb. “Why would you do that? He has a camera!”

“I know he has a camera! Why do you think I was mad at him in the first place?”

“He wanted to make you mad! He wanted you to react. That’s why you don’t flip off the paparazzi! You played right into their hands!”

“They deserved it!” Nicole yelled.

“That’s not the point, you moron!” Berry yelled back at her.

“Oh my God, Joe!” Nicole whined. “Are you going to let her call me a moron?”

“Berry, please don’t call moron a Nicole,” I accidentally said, then laughed. “Oops. You know what I mean—”

Nicole glared at me while Berry looked out her window and said in a loud voice, “My God, your mother is right.”

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