The Hipster Chronicles Page 14

  “Oh, isn’t this perfect,” she mumbled. “Yes, Milo, it’s me, Paulina. I’d say it was nice to see you, but it’s not. Now, if you don’t mind, I was just leaving.”

  Whoa. Grudge much? I almost said it, but thought better of insulting her. I was pretty sure I’d done that already. But I could tell she was steamed about something, or someone, and while it was none of my business, she was my sister’s guest. Marley would be upset if I let her friend leave so suddenly and in such a pissy mood. “Where’s the fire? Party’s just getting started. Did you even see Marley yet?”

  She momentarily quit trying to barge past me and stared at me as if I had a nerve to even speak to her. “What’s it to you, huh?”

  I shrugged, peering down at her. She hadn’t changed much over the years and the tiny but mighty eminence she exuded brought a grin to my lips. Under different circumstances, Paulina and I could’ve been good friends. I fucked that up by leading her on with that kiss. She wasn’t the only woman I’d left with a bad taste in her mouth, but for the sake of my sister, and since she was here, I hoped we could act like adults and leave the high school drama behind. “Listen, I’m sorry for being a douche in the past. I didn’t mean anything by it. We were kids and I was stupid. I can see you’re in a hurry to get out of here and I hope it’s not because of me.”

  Her cheeks flushed, her eyes blinking in astonishment. “What? Oh, my God, no! I’m going because . . .” She paused to look behind her, but stopped herself midway. “It has nothing to do with you, Milo!”

  Sensing an eruption on the horizon, I raised my hands in defense. “I was only asking for Marley. She went to a lot of trouble planning this party, and I’m sure she’ll be looking for you once she’s done making her rounds.”

  “You mean once she’s done mackin’ it with Jasper?” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of where my sister and Jasper were indeed making a public display of canoodling.

  I closed my eyes in an attempt to unsee the two lovebirds going at it and brought my attention back to the task at hand. “Okay, so what’s the rush? It’s early. Let me get you a drink. I can keep you company until my—”

  “Are you serious?” Her hands balled into fists, her eyes fiery and wide. “You think you can schmooze me with a drink and pick up where we left off? It’s doesn’t work that way, Milo. I’m not a crush-sick teenager anymore. I’ve moved on. I have no desire to hook up with you again so take your drink and shove it.”

  “Um . . . am I interrupting something?” Of course, this would be the exact moment Emmy returned from the bathroom.

  “Oh, hey, Emmy!” I realized how aloof it sounded as it came out of my mouth, but I quickly wrapped an arm around her and kissed her cheek to prove my loyalty. “Babe, this is Paulina. An old friend.”

  Paulina’s nostrils flared at the word friend but to my surprise, she didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to, though. The way this picture painted itself, I looked like the manwhore many people believed me to be.

  I could tell by Emmy’s stiffness that she was skeptical. I had to swoop in to clear things up before her thoughts ran away with her, the way they often did. “Paulina is Marley’s friend. They grew up together, went to the same school; we’re practically sisters,” I chuckled.

  Emmy nodded sardonically. “Well, that makes the fact you hooked up with her that much more disturbing.”

  Shit! She’d heard our conversation. How fucking perfect. I gulped, Paulina snorted, and Emmy sighed. It was clear Paulina was not coming to my rescue—grudge holder—so it was up to me to fix this mess. Turning up the charm that was usually Emmy’s weakness, I took her hands in mine, bit my lower lip, and gazed into her eyes. “Babe, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. Yes, we hooked up. Once. Like a million years ago, but this is not what it looks like.”

  Emmy blinked her eyes shut and when she reopened them they were full of unshed tears. “Is there anyone you haven’t hooked up with? Will we ever attend an event together in this godforsaken neighborhood where we don’t run into someone you’ve screwed?”

  Fuck! Not this again. Emmy’s insecurities because of her cheating ex-husband were a problem we’d faced before. A problem we’d talked about, resolved, and put behind us. I understood her qualms and did everything I could to set them at ease. I was different than her ex. I wasn’t who I used to be before her, either. I was a one-woman kind of guy these days; she had nothing to worry about. But I couldn’t change my past and I couldn’t control who we ran into.

  Paulina cleared her throat and reached out to pat Emmy on the shoulder. “Oh, we never had sex, hun. It was just a kiss. A one-sided, let’s-just-get-this-over-with-so-the-annoying-kid-will-leave-me-alone kiss.”

  “Lina, it was nothing like that.”

  “Dude, I’m trying to help you,” she whispered through gritted teeth.

  “Great, so now you have your ex-girlfriends conspiring with you to make me feel better?” Emmy was one step away from a meltdown.

  “No, Emmy, you’ve misunderstood,” I pled. I was getting whiplash trying to defend myself and appease both women.

  “I find that hard to believe,” she cried.

  “Oh, girl, you’ve got the wrong idea. I swear,” Paulina chimed in. “I don’t want your man anymore. That ship has sailed.”

  “What ship has sailed?” Marley asked, joining the shit show with Jasper gawking at her side.

  Everyone remained quiet and still, frozen amongst secrets, regrets, and misunderstanding. Emmy’s eyes darted between me and Paulina and then landed on my sister. She took a deep breath, released it on a sigh, and finally broke the silence. “Marley, do I have anything to worry about with your friend, Paulina?”

  “No!” Paulina and I both shouted.

  “No!” Marley burst out laughing but stopped when she realized no one shared the same humor. “Why would Paulina be something to worry about, Milo? What’s going on here? What did I miss?” Marley let go of Jasper’s grip and her hands shot to her waist.

  “You didn’t know that Milo and Paulina hooked up?” Emmy asked.

  “Milo and Paulina did what?” Marley’s face distorted with shock and confusion. “Jesus! Is there anyone you haven’t dipped it in?”

  “That’s what I asked.” Emmy’s mouth formed a thin, straight line.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Hurt was evident in Marley’s eyes when she stared at Paulina for answers.

  This was getting ridiculous. Either I was in a nightmare or tripping on shrooms. Something had to give. “Would everyone just shut the fuck up for one second?” It must’ve come out louder and harsher than I anticipated because many of the other party guests turned their heads to face our group. Other guests like Emmy’s friend Jane and her beau, Ezra. And . . .”Hey, aren’t you the oyster guy from Smorgasburg?”

  “Yeah. That’s me. Zander, nice to meet you.” Oyster guy extended his hand and I shook it, baffled by our growing audience of strangers and familiar faces alike.

  “I feel like I’m in the Wizard of fucking Oz.” I raked my fingers through my hair and shook my head.

  “Lina, can I talk to you?” Zander was at Paulina’s side faster than I could click my heels and say, ‘There’s no place like home’.

  “No, Zander, you can’t talk to her until I talk to her,” Marley butted in, nudging her way between Zander and Paulina. “When did you have sex with my brother?”

  “You had sex with her brother?” Welp. Might as well add Zander to the list of the uninformed and perplexed.

  “Holy shit! No! I did not have sex with Milo!” Paulina shouted. “Not that it matters since your bloody ex-fiancé is back for you.”

  “If you didn’t sleep with him, then why does Emmy think you’re a problem?” Marley was clearly stuck on one issue and one issue only.

  “She’s not a problem and never will be.” I made sure Emmy heard me loud and clear. She shook her head and stared off at the fading sunset.

  False accusations and unending question
s flew in every direction. It was almost too loud to hear yourself think, and it was definitely too complicated to guess what would happen next. I certainly didn’t see it coming and I could bet my autographed guitar that no one in our dysfunctional group did either, but if it weren’t for the itty-bitty thing with a notepad and a story to tell, we’d all be walking outta here singing “See You in September” as a death march.

  “ARE YOU SURE our friends aren’t filming some reality TV show we didn’t know about?” I asked, fighting the urge to either chew on my fingernails or hit the ground running.

  “Uh, yeah.” Ezra scratched the back of his head with one hand and curled his arm around my waist with the other. He looked around for cameras and a crew—I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do the same—and then chuckled. “Nope. Fat chance. You’ll have to get your fifteen minutes of fame somewhere else.”

  “Ha! Fame. Like I’d know what to do with it, anyway.” It’d be nice for someone other than my professor or my boyfriend to praise my recently finished screenplay, but I wasn’t holding my breath.

  His tender grip grew tighter. “Come on. It looks like they could use a distraction.”

  “No, it looks like they need an intervention. Maybe we should go home before they notice us.”

  “Jane! I can tell Emmy’s been crying and Marley’s eyes are popping out of her head. We’ve got nothing better to do. This could be fun.”

  “Fun at the expense of others is not a nice thing, Ezra.”

  He pulled me closer against his side and playfully tickled my ribs. “Says the girl who stalked her barista and wrote three quarters of a story based on assumptions.”

  “Will I ever live that down?”

  “Yeah, when Scorsese is directing it and DiCaprio is playing me.”

  If only I had as much confidence in my work as he did. “In your dreams, buddy.”

  “In our dreams. Now, let’s go find out what the trouble in Williamsburg is.”

  Shrugging, I acquiesced—we were already here and the band was really good; why not make the best of it? I followed Ezra’s lead toward the mayhem that was our friends, praying we could avoid any drama and enjoy the last weekend of summer without a hitch. I made sure to locate the nearest exit—a habit this wallflower would never abandon—and put one foot in front of the other.

  Ezra had helped me out of my shell a lot in these last few months. Since the night of the thunderstorm, we’d become very close. In the beginning, it was strictly a coffee-shop-friendship-in-the-making. I denied every date proposal and fought off the unwavering attraction—like an idiot. But thanks to his adorable resilience, I soon came to the realization that he was good for me, in more ways than he wasn’t. My feelings for him grew deeper with each passing day, and it wasn’t long before the sexy barista and the shy girl with the unquenchable caffeine habit fell in love. We were happy together. He was the yin to my yang, and many times he served as the push I needed to step out of my comfort zone.

  Take this party, for instance—it was my first of this kind. I usually spent Labor Day weekend with my parents at their lake house. Low key and serene was more my style, but between Emmy’s invitation and Ezra’s convincing, here I was. It wouldn’t kill me to actually act my age or to give my boyfriend something he wanted. On our last double date with Emmy and Milo, Ezra looked deflated when I initially shot down Emmy’s invitation to the party. A relationship meant sacrifice, and it wasn’t as if he was asking me to try BDSM—although, from the commotion our friends were making, BDSM seemed far more appealing.

  “Hi, guys!” Ezra cleared his throat as we approached.

  No one seemed to hear him over the yelling. Fine by me. I was content to say we tried and slink off to some corner to enjoy the band’s cover of “Love in October” by Teenage Evolution. But somehow through the chaos Emmy spotted me from the corner of her eye, and the look on her tear-stained face screamed, “Save Me!”

  I swooped in and hugged her, waiting for her to explain what was going on. Just as she started to whisper something in my ear, everyone took our friendly embrace as a cue to bombard me with hellos. I was overwhelmed by the attention—so many cheek-kisses, introductions, and new names to remember. But we somehow managed to migrate into a huddle and claim a sitting area reminiscent of Central Perk from my favorite Friends reruns.

  Ezra made a quick trip to the bar and left me to the wolves. Silence and tension permeated the warm air, strangling me with discomfort. I wanted to ask Emmy if she was okay, but not in front of everyone. I wanted to know why Milo’s sister was glaring at the owner of For Heaven’s Cake like she’d killed her puppy. I could swear that tall guy with the trippy shirt sold oysters at Smorgasburg, and . . . and who the hell was the cowboy? I’d never seen him before. He looked almost as out of place as I felt, yet he was creeping on Marley like he’d owned her for years.

  My brain spun at warp speed. Before me was a plethora of eclectic characters and so much unspoken drama. I would’ve given anything to be a fly on the wall with a pen and notebook handy. This whole scenario was a writer’s haven. Too bad I was too shook to ask anyone a single question.

  Fortunately, Ezra was not. “Anyone wanna talk about the massive elephant in the room?” He scrutinized each member of the group as he passed around eight shot glasses.

  All it took was that one little inquiry and a shared shot of whiskey for the floodgates to open and sweep me away with the loosened gush of emotions.

  “So, let me get this straight . . .” I tapped my chin and organized everything as best as I could inside my head. Damn, I need to write this down. Would it be rude to whip out my laptop?

  I appraised all six of the lovesick crazies before me. Twelve hopeful eyes fixed themselves on me, the people to whom they belonged awaiting some kind of epiphany as if I was a psychotherapist who could solve all their problems.

  God, this was such a thrill! Research was one of my favorite things about being a writer, and this was research on steroids. All at once and in my face. I didn’t need the joint Marley was passing around, I was high enough doing what I loved best—observing. Funny thing was, I forgot all about how I hated to be the center of attention and sank into the couch, ready to analyze my findings and share them with the class.

  Pointing first to Marley and Jasper, I recapped what I’d learned. “You had a mini-freak out when he told you he loved you. Not because you don’t love him too, but because he also asked you to go back to Alabama with him.”

  “You’re moving to Alabama?” Milo stopped mid-toke and passed the J to his left.

  “Who said anything about moving, jackass? I’m just taking some time off work to go down there to meet his family,” Marley explained, grasping Jasper’s hand.

  “My sister’s having her baby in a few days and I thought it would be a good time to visit, so I asked Marley to come with. Mama’s dying to meet the city girl who stole her baby bear’s heart.” Jasper leaned over to kiss his girl on top of her head and everyone, including me, let out an exaggerated aww.

  “You two are so cute,” Paulina cooed.

  “Yeah, almost as cute as the secret you and my brother decided to keep from me,” Marley blurted out, causing Emmy to wince.

  “Oh, not this again! How many times do we have to tell you, we didn’t sleep together!” Milo slapped his hands on his thighs.

  Paulina grabbed the joint from Ezra and looked in my direction. “Maybe you can help her understand, huh, Jane?”

  Me? Why I was suddenly the voice of reason, I had no clue, but I felt needed so I rolled with it. Besides, I was making mental notes with each new discovery. “Okay. So, Paulina and Milo, I guess the question is: did you or did you not hook up?” All I needed was a microphone and an Eyewitness news van and I’d be legit.

  “We didn’t have sex!” They shouted in unison.

  “Then why does everything seem so . . . weird between you guys?” Emmy interceded.

  Milo took that as an opportunity to scoot closer to his girl and get int
imate—well, as intimate as one can get with an audience of stoned friends chomping at the bit. “Babe, we did not have sex. We kissed. Once. A very long time ago. Neither of us told Marley because there was nothing to tell and we didn’t want her reacting like this.” He gestured toward his sister and looked to Paulina for back up.

  She came to his defense after releasing a cloud of smoke from her lips. “True story, Emmy. He’s all yours. I never laid claim to your man. The whole thing is a faded memory. A stupid teenage fantasy gone bad.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say . . .” He must’ve realized he was about to condemn himself and reworded his response. “You heard her . . . I’m all yours. If you still want me, that is.”

  “Of course, I still want you, Milo. But . . .” Emmy lowered her head.

  “But, what, babe? I’m crazy about you. What more do you need to know?”

  “Oh, that’s easy! It’s a textbook trope,” I interjected. “Emmy’s still feeling scorned by her douche of an ex and it doesn’t help that she has to compete with all of your old hookups at every turn. Case in point—the poor girl is insecure as fuck and needs to know she can trust you.”

  “Oh, no she didn’t,” Emmy uttered.

  I was being awfully free with my words, wasn’t I? “Shit. I’m sorry. It just came out.” I wanted to crawl under this couch and become one with the floor. My hands flew up to cover my eyes, but Emmy was quick to assure me I hadn’t crossed the line.