A Story of Now (12 page)

“What did she say about it today?”

“She just said that she’s really, really sorry and that she didn’t mean it to happen, but circumstances made it hard to avoid hanging out with her, blah, blah. I don’t know. It’s like, I get it. I do. It would have been awkward for her. But I’d never, ever do that, not without telling her first at least.” She stares across the tract of grass. “And now, I really don’t know if I can be friends with her anymore, not like before, anyway.”

Even as she says the words, a small, guilty part of Claire wonders if it’s really her lack of desire to maintain their dwindling friendship that’s the issue and not Michelle’s supposed betrayal.

Mia suddenly sits up. “That seems so unfair, having that happen with your best friend and your boyfriend like that.”

“Yeah, but you know, I don’t even know if Michelle and I were that close, or if it was just because Brendan and her boyfriend, Jack, were best friends. But still, I expected more loyalty from her, you know?”

And again, Mia is silent. For a minute, Claire wonders if she’s gone on too long, overshared. Mia’s probably bored. It is only the third time they’ve hung out, and she probably doesn’t want—or need—to hear all Claire’s problems. She’s trying to think of a way to change the subject when Mia leans forward.

“I think every friendship has its limits,” Mia says. “And sometimes a friendship runs its natural course too. I don’t know. I’m not friends with half the people I was close with in high school. We just don’t have anything left in common, or we don’t have enough time for each other. You just can’t hold on to everyone. Maybe it’s a part of moving on with the next stage of life.”

Claire nods, contemplating what Mia is saying, grateful for some perspective and for insight that explains the difficult—painful, even—lunch and its probable outcome.

“I mean, the people who count, the ones who I really care about, they’re still around. That’s how you know they’re the keepers, right?” Mia tips her head to one side, staring past her.

Claire nods again, even though she doesn’t really know. The way she’s going, she won’t have any friends left from high school. Besides, Claire hasn’t had a friend like that—a keeper—since Beth, her best friend who moved away at the start of year ten and left Claire adrift in the social world of high school. And that feels as though it was decades ago now.

Mia straightens her legs, reaches into her bag, and pulls out a sandwich. She slowly unwraps it, then offers half to Claire. Even though Claire isn’t hungry, she takes it, appreciative of the gesture. She sits up on the grass, inspects the insides of the sandwich, and takes a bite.

“What about you and Robbie?” she asks, between chews. “He’s a keeper, right?”

“Yeah, of course. But even we have our limits.”

“Like what?” Claire asks, curious. She figured he and Mia are in friend love.

“I love Robbie, but it’s hard with him sometimes because he just disappears.”

“What do you mean?”

Mia chews slowly, a thoughtful look on her face. “I mean that he just…there have been times when I’ve needed him, and he’s not around, you know? I would get hurt in the past, but now I’m getting used to it. And I’ve learned not to depend on him to always be there.” She stares at her sandwich. “And you know, I don’t think that he doesn’t want to be there, or that he wouldn’t if I asked. Or that he doesn’t care. He’s just flighty. He’ll be everywhere for a while, and then he’ll just kind of be gone.”

“Where does he go?”

Mia breaks off a piece of crust and tosses it to a sparrow that has been edging closer to them since the appearance of food. “New guy, new photo project, new friends. Any or all of the above. Also, sometimes, I think he just goes into hiding. Like he puts himself out there so much that sometimes he has to retreat so he can focus or rest or something.”

“Oh.” Claire watches the bird dart forward and pull the crust backward across the grass with its beak, unable to pick it up. It covetously pecks at the bread, moving quickly, as if wary another bird will discover the treasure before it can finish. “That would be hard.”

“I don’t mean to make him sound like a bad friend. He’s awesome and beautiful. I just had to learn to not always depend on him being there exactly when I need him to be. I mean, when he’s there, he’s there, you know. But sometimes he’s just…gone.” She shrugs.

Frowning, Claire tosses the last crust of her sandwich to the handful of birds that are gathered hopefully on the grass near them. “Is he your best friend?”

“He’s definitely become one of them. My friend Kristen is my oldest and closest friend. She’s in Sydney, though, studying.”

“How long have you known each other?”

“Since forever. She and her brother grew up a street away from me. I miss her. We talk all the time, and she’s here some holidays, but it’s not the same.”

Claire nods. She tries not to feel envious. And she’s not sure what she’s more envious of, Mia having two really close friends, or Mia’s close friends themselves. Claire misses feeling important to someone aside from her brother. He’s the only person she can think of who wants her around enough that he actually misses her when she isn't there. Maybe Michelle would have in the past, but now she doesn’t know what Michelle thinks of her.

As though she can read her mind, Mia reaches over and plucks at Claire’s sleeve. “Anyway, maybe it’s not so bad then, that you have some space from Michelle? Not that I’m saying you should just cut her out, or that it’s not worth it. Only you know whether you should do that, but maybe you just need some time…some space.”

“Maybe. I feel like my whole social world just came apart, you know? One day I knew exactly how everything worked and who my people were. And the next day, not a single freaking clue.”

“You have Nina. And you have us.”

And before Claire—both embarrassed and warmed by this sudden, confident declaration of friendship—has to say anything in response, Mia checks her watch and sits up. “Damn, I’ve got to go. Class in ten.”

Claire reaches out and grabs her wrist and looks at the time. “Me too. I have to meet my brother.”

They scramble to their feet. Mia groans as she hauls her heavy bag to her shoulders. When it’s on her back, she thrusts her hands in her pockets and looks at Claire. Claire smiles at her, feeling weird and shy and slightly embarrassed from all this sharing.

And Mia returns the smile. But hers, of course, is open and easy and tells her she doesn’t have to worry about what Mia thinks of her.

They stroll slowly across the campus together, mutually reluctant to leave the peaceful cocoon of the university lawn for the thrum and impatience of the real world.

“You know, on paper, you don’t sound like you actually
are
,” Claire tells her.

“What?” Mia screws up her face. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if you said to me, sporty science geek, wears glasses, into old books, I wouldn’t imagine you.”

“Um, what makes you think I’m sporty?”

“Actually, I don’t know.” Claire appraises her as they walk. “Maybe your long legs?”

“Believe me, I’m not sporty.” Mia laughs.

“You
look
sporty.”

“Well, you make no sense, either. At work you’re completely hostile, but outside you’re actually nice. You give everyone hell, but you’re completely sensitive yourself. You act like you don’t care about stuff, but I can tell you do.” She gives Claire a look. “All kinds of conflicting information there too, so I don’t know if you should judge.”

“But I always judge, Mia. That’s what I do.”

“Besides, what you really meant is that I sound like a giant geek on paper, while you’re probably used to hanging out with all the shiny party kids.” Mia shrugs. “You’re surprised that you like to hang out with me.” She gives her an I-know-you-grin.

“Maybe.” Claire laughs.

Mia is silent for a moment as they walk. “You know, I don’t really care what I sound like on paper. If being a geek is doing what I am doing, then I don’t care. I’m pretty happy with who I am most of the time.”

Claire fleetingly wonders when it is that Mia isn’t happy with who she is. Claire could say she’s happy with herself about half the time on a good day. She can’t imagine Mia feeling less than satisfied with who she is, though. How could someone so smart and funny and friendly and liked be unhappy?

Claire shakes her head. “I’m telling you now, I don’t know if I can hang out with someone so well adjusted.”

Mia grins. “It doesn’t matter. You have no say in it. We’re friends. Even if I didn’t want to—and I do—it wouldn’t matter because Robbie loves you.”

“What?” Claire nearly stops in her tracks at that revelation. “He doesn’t act like it.”

“That’s just how he is with you. If he didn’t like you, trust me, he’d just ignore you. Besides, do you think you’re particularly friendly? Remember that night at the bar when we met?”

Claire blushes a little against her will. “I thought you weren’t paying any attention.” She was pretty feisty that night, even by her own standards.

“No, I was just letting you guys fight it out. I knew you would either destroy each other or become friends. And either way, it would be entertaining for me.”

Claire doesn’t quite know what to say to that. “Whatever, Mia.”

“Like I said, you two are cut from the same cloth. Two thoroughly charming jerks.”

Claire blinks. She was not expecting Mia to pass judgement so swiftly and so damningly on them both. “Jerks, huh?” She shakes her head and laughs.

Mia just grins and changes the subject. “What are you doing with your brother today?”

“I’m meeting him at Robbie’s gallery. I told him about the photo, and now he wants to see it.” Claire shakes her head. “I don’t know why. He knows what I look like.”

“Oh, you know why.” Mia smiles. “What’s your brother like?”

“He’s…I don’t know. He likes beer and sports and shooting stuff—real stuff because he’s a cop. He’s good at figuring out problems and making others laugh, and he makes terrible decisions about people with pretty faces and boobs. I guess he’s a regular guy.”

Mia laughs.

“And people with pretty faces and boobs seem to like him even though he’s an idiot.”

“Wow.” Mia stops at the end of the long path leading out of campus. “I feel like I know him already.”

Claire pulls out her phone and looks for his last message to see how far away he said he was. Before she can check, though, Mia has taken her phone out of her hand and is tapping away.

“What are you doing?”

“Messaging me.” Then she passes it back to Claire. “Now you have my number. Call me or something if you want to meet up.” She checks her watch. “See you soon,” she says as if it’s the most natural, inevitable thing in the world. Then she turns around and hurries away, the set of her shoulders tells Claire her mind has already turned to the next thing on her list.

Simultaneous bursts of both admiration and envy for Mia’s effortless vitality and her social ease run through Claire. It is something Mia simply has, but Claire always feels she is trying so desperately to muster.

Maybe if she spends enough time around it, she can learn something from her.

CHAPTER 17

Claire has only slept with four guys in her life.

Four.

One was the guy she lost her virginity to back in year ten when she decided she was drunk enough for it to go. One was Brendan, of course. Repeatedly. And the other two were similarly drunken one-off incidents in the aftermath of Brendan, just for the possibility of forgetting. She tried to move on by getting drunk and randomly hooking up. It didn’t work, though. The awkward one-night stands simply set off another maelstrom of regret.

Four guys.

That hardly makes her a slut. In fact, it barely makes her interesting. So how in the hell is she left here feeling like a complete skank? How come she feels like that when she didn’t do anything wrong?

Claire stalks down the street, her hands jammed in her pockets and her collar up around her ears. It’s a miserable day, the first in a while, featuring a particularly whippy, biting wind. She picks up speed because she’s already a little late.

And being late doesn’t help when Claire is in the foulest mood she’s been in for a long time—one that’s going to make this meeting with her mother more unbearable than usual. She frowns into the wind and crosses the street, dodging around the stalled traffic at the busy intersection.

Going back to Nina’s after Josh’s birthday party last night had been a stupid,
stupid
idea. She knows that now. In fact, going to Josh’s birthday party at a club after work was the first bad idea. But Nina begged her to go. Hamstrung from being able to offer a sensible reason not to—like the fact that she’d rather stay at home and watch crappy television than celebrate the birth of a giant sleazebag—she agreed, against her better judgment.

But why hadn’t she thought of how Josh would react? Of course, a guy like him would think, because it was his birthday, he could do whatever the hell he liked.

They got back to the apartment, and Nina, who was completely wasted, crawled straight into bed, because that’s her usual post-party MO. Meanwhile, Claire was left with a drunken Josh. One minute she was at the kitchen sink, kicking off her shoes and downing a giant glass of water to prevent her imminent hangover, and the next Josh was pawing at her while Nina slept in the next room.

It turned out, however, that Nina wasn’t sleeping. In fact, she was wide awake and on her way to the bathroom when she came past the kitchen. Next thing she knew, Nina was screaming in rage at both of them. But mostly at Claire.

Suddenly that feistiness Nina wields against irritating sleazy customers—the feistiness that Claire has long admired—was directed at her point-blank. It was horrible. Nina was livid, in a borderline-hysterical fit, and Claire was too shocked to defend herself. Instead, she got the hell out. She grabbed her shoes and bag and headed for the street where she hailed a taxi that took her on the expensive drive back to the suburbs and away from Nina’s rage.

Josh just stood drunkenly in the corner and muttered over and over, “I’m so sorry, babe.” Fucking toddler. But Nina paid him no attention. She focused only on Claire.