Being There Read online

  Well, that shocked the hell out of me. I knew it was the makeup and dress that had him complimenting me, so I chose ignore him and focus on the evening ahead. I guess he could feel my discomfort because he looked around the room to check the details, as well, “So are we all set for tonight. People should be arriving any time now.”

  I nodded in agreement, “The band did their sound check, the DJ has everything set up to start as soon as they’re done, and the food is getting the final touches as we speak. I think we are good to go.”

  He stood next to me and put his arm around my shoulder to admire our work. “Everything looks good.” He was right; we did a damn good job. I’m not sure how long we stood admiring the room, but we parted as soon as we heard another whistle sound from the entrance. We turned in unison to find the source of the obnoxious sound, only to find senior Trevor Holt - varsity team captain, who tasked Drew with being the boy’s coordinator for the event.

  “So Drew, you found a date after all,” he said looking me up and down. Drew reached for me again before speaking.

  “Yeah, this is my girl Cass,” he said boldly before whispering in my ear, “Play along.”

  I smiled weakly and watched, as Trevor continued to gawk. That guy had creep written all over him and he was making me uncomfortable. His reputation left much to be desired where I was concerned so I was not falling over myself to impress him. In fact, I think I was happy to play along.

  “Good to see you,” I acknowledged before turning to Drew. I needed to put a quick end to the visit. “Hey, why don’t we go over there so we can listen to the band, I think they’re about to start.” He gave Trevor the “guy” nod and we walked over to the stage as Bare Wonder started.

  “By the way,” I whispered to him, “it’s Cassi, not Cass.”

  He wrinkled his nose and thought for half a second, “Nah, you’re a Cass. That is, unless you want me to call you Cassiopia.”

  “What the hell? How do you know that name? No one knows that name,” I stated affirmatively as I looked around the room to make sure no one heard him.

  “I have my ways,” he confirmed extremely sure of himself. “So, it’s either Cass or Pia, You choose.”

  Ass.

  By the end of the evening everyone was raving about the food and decorations, but the music was, by far, the biggest hit. Even Kat complimented the efforts, telling us that the Booster Club Gala raised more money that night than any other year. Drew and I looked at each other with pride because we had worked so hard to ensure it was a success and it all paid off. We had to stay behind to make sure that everything was cleaned up at the end of the night, so I had texted my dad to let him know I had a ride home. I knew he would be up waiting for me anyway, because that’s how my dad was, but I asked Drew if he would mind taking me home. I figured he owed me because of the stupid nickname he saddled me with, besides if I was his “date,” pretend or not, he needed to be a gentleman and get me home safe. I don’t think he had the nerve to argue my logic, as ridiculous as it was.

  The ride home was pleasant. We talked the whole way about how well everything went and how Kat seemed to finally get that stick out of her ass. I was in the middle of telling him how shocked I was at how much some of the auction items went for when he changed the subject. “Okay, truth time,” he said raising his brow, “the band did rock. Very impressive there Cass.”

  “Why thank you,” I smiled at him “and the DJ turned out to be pretty good; he didn’t talk as much as he did in his video samples, which was refreshing.”

  Drew huffed a laugh, “I might have told him to keep it to a minimum.” He looked at me and smiled as we pulled into my driveway. There was a momentary awkward silence, before I got out of the car that made me want to get away as quick as possible. “This whole thing’s been fun Cass, maybe we’ll do this again sometime,” he said seeming less sure of himself than I’d seen him over the last few weeks.

  “Yeah, absolutely, give me a call,” I said in a hurry before I closed the door walked away. I was almost in front of his car when he jumped out and ran over to pull me into his arms. “You looked really pretty tonight,” he said in a whisper.

  I have to admit, I was momentarily frozen because Drew was invading my personal space and I wasn’t sure I liked it...or perhaps I did. I mean, sure maybe I had noticed how hot he looked in his black suit. And at that moment, standing in front of me, who wouldn’t be hypnotized by his gorgeous brown eyes and full lips. And maybe I checked out his ass a few times, but nothing good was going to come from what was about to happen. But dammit if I wasn’t drawn to how vulnerable he seemed when he looked into my eyes. I could feel myself giving in to his touch when my eyes widened at the realization of his movements. There was no way I was going to end up another casualty in the Drew Alexander express, his reputation of being the sophomore class’ ladies man was something I could not ignore. I placed my hands on his chest to push him back to gain some much-needed space. I looked at him with confusion as he watched me in the same way. I guess he wasn’t turned down too often, because I was pretty certain my actions caught him off guard.

  “I’m sorry, but is there some reason why you think I would want you to kiss me?” I didn’t mean to sound like such a bitch, but I had never been approached with such brazen confidence.

  “I just thought –“ he trailed off.

  “Let’s get something straight,” I said as if talking to a child. “I like you, I think you are a pretty nice guy, despite your reputation. So, we can definitely be friends, but that’s it. Okay?” Maybe I was too harsh, but I was on a roll and even seeing his amusement didn’t have me backing down.

  He looked stunned by my reprimanding tone and finally took a step back. We had completed our duties and we had no reason to see each other outside of school so he nonchalantly turned his back to me and walked to his car. I watched him close the car door before I turned my back to him to go inside, but just as I was reaching the front door, my cell phone rang and Drew’s name flashed onto the screen.

  Turning to face his unmoved car, I see Drew with his phone pressed to his ear, while his free hand is raised up in surrender. I smiled as I answered, “Hello?”

  “Okay. Friend. What’s going on tomorrow?”

  About Last Night

  “Time to get up,” I hear my newest annoying alarm tone calling beside my bed. I blindly try reaching for the source of the hideous greeting, but instead, I knock something off my bed.

  “I said, time to get up!” This time it screams even louder and I’m in a bigger hurry to locate the damn thing and shut it off because if I don’t, it’s only going to get worse. When I find my phone I look at it and see that it’s almost six in the morning, which means, in between my glasses of wine and reliving old memories through pictures, I fell asleep. I look over to see the empty wine bottles and inwardly cringe because that means I drank two bottles last night, which means, the headache I have isn’t going away anytime soon. I look to the floor to see what I dropped, only to see portraits scattered across my carpet when one in particular catches my attention, one of Drew and me from senior year.

  “Shit!” I yell aloud. What did I do last night? I mean, it’s obvious I drank too much and looking at the tissues strewn amongst the pictures, I must have done some crying. I continue looking around trying to fill in the blanks when I spot my open laptop on the other side of my bed. I paw my way to the computer hoping that what I think happened didn’t.

  Oh. My. Hell! What the fuck did I do?

  I slowly open the screen and freak when I see that Facebook is not only open, but it’s apparent I was chatting with someone. But no, it wasn’t just someone, because it’s coming back to me. It was Drew. I haven’t seen or talked to him in five years, and yet I’m staring at the screen that proves he reached out to me.

  Drew: Damn, that picture brings back some memories. How you doing?

  Me: Yeah, that was a good night. I’m fine. How are you?

  Drew: Not bad.

/>   Me: Good. Well, I gotta go. Take care.

  Reading these lines, I slowly recall how it all played out. I was irritated that he even messaged me, but instead of ignoring it, like I should have, I engaged. At least it looks like I tried to bail out of the chat.

  Drew: You know, sometimes people don’t leave. Sometimes they’re pushed out.

  Me: That was random.

  Drew: Your post a few minutes ago. That was ominous.

  Life-changing news, alcohol and Facebook do not mix; I mentally chastise myself as I continue reading.

  Me: It was merely an observation. Sometimes you show them a door, and people decide to take it.

  Drew: We can go back and forth all night, but I doubt it would get us anywhere.

  Me: Yeah, and trying was never your strength.

  Drew: So what was it supposed to mean? Everything ok?

  Me: Just peachy and it wasn’t about anything. Guilty conscience?

  Drew: Should I?

  He’s such an asshole. I wish I had told him that, but instead, I sent another response.

  Me: Nope. Good catching up. Let’s do it again in another 5 years.

  Drew: Wait. I hear you’re in Houston.

  Me: Yeah, I am.

  Drew: Me, too. Want to meet for lunch one day next week and catch up?

  Me: I have a lot going on right now and I’m heading out of town tomorrow.

  Drew: Well, if you change your mind, msg me.

  Me: Sure

  The first time I talked to an old friend and we fell into the same back and forth banter we always did, except back then, it was all in fun. Reading the exchange we had last night, there was truth and venom to it, mostly from me, but he didn’t back down either. Why on earth would he think I’d want to meet up with him? Does he really think we could just pick up where we left off like nothing ever happened? We had a falling out, we said horrible things to each other and even if I could forgive him, I’m not sure he could forgive me. I guess that’s what I get for strolling down memory lane with my favorite vino.

  I have spent the last twenty minutes filling in the blanks from last night and now I have even less time to get ready for work than I did before. Hopefully Mr. Marx won’t be too pissed that I didn’t get anything done last night. I climb out of my bed and turn the faucet on to warm up while I choose my outfit for the day. I think something bright and colorful is in order, so I pick the short sleeve canary yellow dress that I bought last week because the sales person said it made my skin look flawless. Jeez, I’m so gullible. It’s not until I pass the full-length mirror that hangs on my closet door that I see my reflection and realize that as healthy as I appear, there is an emotional change. I have breast cancer and I’m going away on a trip as though nothing in my life has changed, but everything has changed. I feel that lump in my throat again, so I jump into the shower to in an attempt to wash myself clean as the tears stream down my face. I’m not a crier, but I haven’t been able to turn off the waterworks since yesterday and there is nothing I can do right now to change my circumstances. I just need to put one foot in front of the other and get my ass to work.

  By lunch, I have half a dozen emails from Nev with various details about the weekend, so I send her one back to meet me for lunch somewhere. Since she lives and works on the north side of Houston, and I live in Midtown, it makes sense that we meet in the middle because we only have an hour for lunch. She’s the picky one, so she chooses a family-owned deli that she never gets to frequent anymore since moving to the other side of Houston. We talk at least three times a day, but it certainly doesn’t make up for actually seeing my best friend, which I haven’t done in over a month. When she spots me at the back table, she runs over to me and pulls me up for the biggest hug, a hug I really needed, and yet want to get away from as soon as possible.

  “Damn Cass, you look great! Nice to see you in something other than black for a change,” she says as she sets her tiny blue clutch purse on the table. “Yellow is a good color on you.”

  “Thanks,” I say dismissively. I abhor compliments, they just make me feel uncomfortable, and I’m even worse at handing them out because it always seems lame. “You look nice, too,” I return. (See… lame.)

  The waitress comes over to take our order and leaves us alone to catch up and talk about this weekend. Nev is always so sure of herself, that everything she does just seems to be done with an air of superiority, but not in a bitchy way. She grabs her iced tea and takes a sip before asking, “So have you packed anything for the trip?”

  “Not really, I still have to make my list so I can make sure I don’t forget anything.”

  “You and your damned lists. Can’t you ever just relax?”

  “Yes! And what’s wrong with my lists? You and I both know my “lists” have saved us numerous times,” I spat at her with a grin.

  “I’ve missed your neurotic ass missy. I hate that we don’t see each other as much since I moved,” she pouts, which makes me laugh.

  “I miss you, too. I really miss my roommate, because that second bedroom is still empty just waiting for you to come back,” I say it, even though I love living on my own, but she was worried about leaving me behind. I try to bring the conversation back to what we’re here for, vacation. “So what’s the itinerary for the weekend?” My question makes her light up like a Christmas tree.

  “Well,” she places her hands on the table in excitement, “I’ve sent messages out to everyone that we’re meeting on Saturday night at The Garden for drinking and dancing. I think we’ll get there around eight, but I’m not sure what time everyone else will be arriving.”

  “How many people are you expecting at this thing? I thought it was just the usual crowd,” there is never more than about ten of us who go, and I always dread it, but end up having a great time. The Garden is one of our favorite places because it’s a pretty mixed crowd and most people are laid back.

  “Last I checked, there’s about twenty people who said they are going for sure, and another ten or so that I’m waiting to hear from,” she says nonchalantly.

  “Jeez Nev, I didn’t realize this was going to be a fucking reunion,” I can’t hide my annoyance. She knows that most of the people we went to school with, I could care less about seeing most of them, yet she has to spread the word to anyone who will listen.

  “It’s not a big deal, besides, we’re only going to have to see them on that one night. I think you can put on your big girl panties for one night. Don’t you?”

  “Fine. Mother. But so help me, if I’m not having a good time, we’re leaving, and you’re not going to argue with me about it. Got it?”

  “Deal,” she beams, because she knows she won. I’ll never force her to leave, I’ll sit in a corner and sulk and tell her I’m fine, even though we both know I’m not, but I’ll never make her leave.

  The waitress brings our sandwiches out and I use the distraction to segue to another topic. It’s one that we don’t address often, if at all. Drew. “So, I talked to Drew last night,” I say as if it’s an everyday occurrence and she should think nothing of it.

  “You what?” I guess I’m not that lucky because Nev almost chokes on a bite of her sandwich from shock. “How did that happen and why am I just now hearing about it?”

  “Long story short? I was drinking last night, got on Facebook and posted a pic of the three of us. Apparently he felt the need to comment on that, and my other wall post through private message.”

  “And? What did he say?”

  “Oh the usual. ‘I miss you.’ ‘You were my best friend,’” I say in a mocking tone. “What do you think he said? He was an ass and then he asked if I wanted to meet for lunch next week.”

  “You’re such a bitch. So are you meeting him?”

  “No, I have too much going on right now and several deadlines to meet, so it’s just not a good time.”

  “Not a good time,” she repeats to herself. “So, if you weren’t busy and didn’t have these so-called deadlines,” she
emphasizes with air quotes, “would you meet him?”

  I pretend to think it over, but I already know the answer, “No. It’s been five years and I’ve moved on. Sometimes I miss my friend, but that’s rare.”

  She nods her head in agreement, but I know she’s not buying it. Nevaeh Evans may be my best friend, but what Drew and I had was special and everyone knew it, even me. But I always knew things would change at some point, and when they finally did there was no going back.

  The Past: No Life of the Party

  Senior year, I started dating Rhen Jacobs, one of the basketball players for the varsity squad. He approached me at my locker one day when I was grabbing my English Lit book in a hurry. I knew he was a friend of Drew’s, so I didn’t have my bitch guard up when he started talking to me.

  “Where ya headed?” he asked as I shut the locker door with a bang. I held up the book in my hand to answer him, “Mind if I walk with you, I have a question for ya.”

  “Yeah, sure, but I don’t have a lot of time, so can you make it fast?” I hated being late to class, or anywhere for that matter. So he fell in sync with my cadence as we headed across the building.

  “So you and Drew, are you guys dating or something?”

  “What?” I stopped suddenly to face him. “Where would you get that idea?”

  “Well, y’all are always together and everyone just assumes that y’all are together, together. Ya know?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s ridiculous. Drew is my best friend! Yes, we’re together a lot, but it’s not like that with us. As far as I know, he’s dating that sophomore Sage, whatever her name is. So no, we aren’t together,” I stated in a definitive tone before double-timing it to my class that I was running late to. To my surprise, Rhen trotted right along side me.

  “Good, then you can go out with me tomorrow night,” he stated proudly.