Inside it's standing room only. Seems Etienne is more popular than I thought. Or he's handing out free booze.
I push my way through the crowd, giving a "hey" to people I know. I've almost made it to his kitchen before I run into our host with the most.
He's hammered already. He gets the jump on me, grabbing me in a headlock.
I strain to free myself, then straighten and re-rumple my hair. Gotta make sure I deliver the goods when I meet Ms. Right Now.
Etienne sucks in his breath sharply. Clarissa has arrived.
"Her t.i.ts are like ripe mangoes." He mimes crudely fondling them.
Clarissa catches this cla.s.sy display and flips him the finger. Go girl.
This doesn't deter Etienne a bit. "Why does Clarissa not care for me? I care for her. She is so bendable."
He moons dreamily after her. He is pathetic, so despite my natural prejudices against relationships, I decide to throw the brother a bone.
"Dawg, it's because you say things like that. Try talking to her like a normal human being."
Etienne has a light bulb "aha!" moment. "Genius. It is so crazy, it just might work. Formidable!"
He hurries into the throng in search of her.
I head to the kitchen, where sure enough, there is beer aplenty and begin my careful scoping.
Not bad. I haven't found anyone worth the active pursuit but there are a lot of perfectly nice distractions to keep me busy until I find the one.
Like this cunning babe. A senior at Etienne's school, she's got a good sense of game and her flirt is activated in high gear.
I'm thinking of reconsidering the "Keep Away" high school ban.
We're deep in the innuendo zone in the living room when, to my surprise, I see Ally arrive and position herself quietly on the other side of what's become the dance floor.
I hadn't realized Etienne was going to invite her.
"You want to talk to that chick, fine," the babe says to me. "But you don't have to be so obvious about it."
I snap my gaze back to her. "She's my sister. She just got dumped and I didn't think she'd come out tonight. I'm just a little worried about how she's doing."
"Brothers who look at their sisters like that get jail time, a.s.shole." She leaves.
"Keep away" reinforced.
I head straight for Ally, because she doesn't seem to know anyone there. And we might as well get this first meeting over with.
I pa.s.s Etienne, jumping around manically in what I guess is dancing. "It's like l.a.b.i.apalooza in here," he calls out. "Come mosh."
"Later."
I stop in front of Ally and grin a h.e.l.lo. I lean close so she can hear me over the music. "Want to get some air?"
She nods and follows me outside.
The front porch is empty. I guess all the potheads have chosen the back porch for their territory, and with the front door closed, we can actually hear each other if we talk.
Not that we are. I study Ally, who is weirdly quiet. "Everything good with Adam?"
"Uh-huh."
I don't believe her but I don't push it.
"Okay," I begin, determined to cheer her up to her normal self because if things stay quiet, she might start talking about something I don't want to discuss. "There's this penguin. He's driving along and he hears a *fft' noise. Thinking it's a flat tire, he pulls into the next town and finds a mechanic."
I check to see she's paying attention to my very fine joke. She nods for me to keep going.
"The mechanic tells him it's not a flat tire but he'll need two hours to find the problem. So the penguin decides to take a walk. But it's sooo hot."
"Poor penguin," Ally says. "He should have started panting to cool down."
"Seriously?"
She shuts up.
"So the penguin is so hot, he's dying. He goes into an ice cream store and starts eating all the flavors. And man, is he in heaven. He's cool, it's yummy, he's just eating it all up."
"Now I'm craving ice cream," she interrupts.
I put my hand over her mouth for a second and continue. "There's ice cream all over him. His beak, his feet. Suddenly he remembers it's been two hours. So he goes back to the mechanic. The mechanic looks at him and says *looks like you blew a seal' and the penguin replies *I was just eating ice cream.'"
Ally laughs so hard she falls into her donkey braying thing again.
That sets me off, so now we're both howling like maniacs.
"Shut up," she wheezes.
She steals my beer to take a sip but is still laughing and doesn't get all of it in her mouth.
"Now you're dribbling. You're such a loser."
I wipe her chin gently with my sleeve and pretend to shudder.
"I love you," she blurts out.
I recoil. Not my finest moment but this is my biggest nightmare come true. There goes the friendship.
"As a friend," she scrambles to cover.
I snort in disbelief.
"Fine," she huffs. "I love you. I've said it. Deal with it."
I stay silent. There is nothing good I can say here.
"I knew it." She crosses her arms.
No. There is one thing. "I never should have slept with you."
"That's your response?"
"You're the *fall in love' girl. I knew that but I thought you could change. That you could handle it. And now it's affected our friendship."
There. It needed to be said and I've said it.
"f.u.c.k you," she retorts. "The only reason we've been friends this long is because you didn't think I was hot enough to sleep with before."
"Unfair and untrue. I've slept with way uglier chicks than you."
"Whoa. That's so liberal. And insulting."
"Don't twist this into my issues," I accuse.
"No," she mocks. "You don't have any. You're the perfect guy. Want to know the irony?"
"Do I have a choice? Then no."
"I'm the perfect girl for you. And you can't handle that. You can't even see that. You never have."
"Grow up, Ally. It's just s.e.x. You don't have to fall in love with a guy just because he shoves his d.i.c.k in you. And that's what you can't see. You never have."
Ally stares at me evenly, her jaw locked so tight she looks like she might start spitting teeth. She gets up, hesitates like she has something else to say, then shakes her head sharply and jogs down the front stairs.
"Typical chick," I call out after her. "Leaving when she can't deal with something."
"No," she tosses out over her shoulder. "That's you. That's always been you."
She heads off into the night.
"Of all the f.u.c.king drama," I yell out, furious.
I whip out my cell and punch in a number.
"Hey Nikki," I begin.
And forget you, Ally.
Chapter twenty-eight.
I knew he'd suck at hearing I loved him but not that badly. What's his problem anyway?
I mean he already loves me as his best friend. And we had amazing s.e.x together. It's not normal to just keep those elements separate indefinitely. It's like having Hydrogen and Oxygen, which are both pretty cool on their own, but refusing to combine them into water.
Without water you die, so you can totally see my point.
Maybe we don't literally die without love, but we do inside. That's what I believe. It's why I named Miyuki's parrots Buffy and Angel; it's why I like having a boyfriend, not just a hookup.
It's what I want in my life.
Looking back, it's not what I had with Jeremy. Not really. But that doesn't mean I can't have it now.
Rachel was right. The player plan in the end was only breakup insanity. And maybe I had to go through it to get back to me, and what I believe is important. No regrets.
But no settling either.
And that's why it's super sad that I'm sitting in my room by myself. Post sweetest, most wonderful kiss ever, post "I love you," post big stupid dork.
Because Sam is not capable of being the guy I want him to be. The trouble with falling in love with my best friend is that I know him way too well to fool myself that he can change.
Welcome to unrequited city. Population, me.
I go over to my closet and start digging around on my shelves and through my memento boxes. There is stuff from my time with Jeremy; a weird amus.e.m.e.nt park stuffed fish he won me, random movie tickets, part of a trick card deck.
But mostly, there is evidence of my lifelong friendship with Sam. I take the birthday hat down from its shelf in my closet and gently trace the abstract sparkly decoration, still glitter-tastic after all these years.
After a moment I chuck it across the room into my small wastepaper basket.
If ever a moment demanded comfy clothes and chocolate, this is it.
Ten minutes later, I shuffle into my living room, hair in a ponytail, back in my old hemp clothes, dropping chocolate poo candy directly from the penguin's b.u.t.t into my mouth.
I swallow another chocolate as I look down at myself. It feels right, but not. Like it's comfy but maybe I've outgrown this. Maybe I need to figure out what I want to look like now.
Who I want to be.
Even if I'm not a hundred percent sure, one thing I do know is I am going to be fine. Better than fine. I am fabuchick. Hear me roar.
As I'm realizing this, the doorbell rings.
It's Rachel. She takes one look at me and in a voice of utter dread says, "Oh no. Not the hemp."
She brushes past me to come inside. "I swear I'm going to burn those fugly things."