We Were Here: A New Adult Romance Prequel to Geoducks Are for Lovers (Modern Love Stories Book 1) (46 page)

“Shall we adjourn to Lucky’s?” Selah caught my attention and redirected my focus from the doors. “Toast to our amazing awesome selves?”

“Who says awesome anymore?” Lizzy wrinkled her nose. “It’s so valley girl, circa ’85.”

“Totally.” Maggie stuck her tongue out. “Let’s go.”

Selah held up her hands for me to lift her. When upright, she leaned close and whispered, “We’ll toast to all the assholes we’ve loved over the years.”

I choked on the last of the wine in my bottle.

“I mean figuratively, not literally. Of course.” She kissed my cheek, tucking her arm under mine.

“Enjoy the Silence” ~ Depeche Mode

“SORRY I COULDN’T
make your opening tonight. I’m sure it was amazing and you sold everything. I really wanted to come, planned to come, but I couldn’t. I got there and saw all the people.”

Warren had been there.

“I couldn’t go inside. I stood outside and saw everyone surrounding you . . .”

He paused for long enough on the message I checked to see if the machine still played.

“ . . . I guess I’m not really ready to be someone’s date for something big. You know. Like a boyfriend. I mean . . .”

Another long pause.

“ . . . I really like hanging out with you and doing stuff. That’s been fun. A lot of fun. You’re really cool.”

I hit pause.

If he wanted to break up with me, doing it on the answering machine I shared with a house of people had to be the lowest. He’d picked me up. He came on strong, made all the moves. When he needed to step up and support me, he bailed. Not cool.

I erased the rest of his message.

“All Apologies” ~ Nirvana

I WOULDN’T SAY
I was heartbroken over Warren, but my crushing disappointment stung. To get over him, I needed a change of scenery and a great diversion.

“We should go to Graceland after graduation. Make it the ultimate road trip. Follow Route 66 and get our kicks,” I suggested to the group as we all sat in our booth at Lucky’s.

“I’ll go if we all go,” Gil said.

“We can’t.”

“I’m sorry . . . what is this can’t you speak of, Josephine?”

“Ben’s going to Harvard and I’m going to Boston College.” Once Jo had a plan, nothing deviated. Sure, they’d sweated applications and waiting like anyone else, but I knew deep down Jo had made up her mind. If she said he was going to Harvard and she would study law, then that’s what would happen.

Jo’s superpower was determination. When I first met Ben, he could have been playing any of the spoiled boys in a John Hughes movie. Under Jo’s influence, he’d turned out okay. Still cocky and too uptight for me, but he’d been pretty cool about not being a jerk about Warren. Jo even offered to play matchmaker with some guy named Kyle.

I pushed forward with my argument. “Unless they do things completely differently in Boston, then your excuse is invalid because classes wouldn’t start for months.”

“We need to find a place to live and drive all our stuff back there.”

“Boston is on the other side of Tennessee. You can keep driving north from Memphis. In fact, you can drop Lizzy and I off in New York on your way. Next.” I wouldn’t accept their lame excuse.

“I can’t.” Maggie picked at her napkin, shredding it into confetti.

“And why not, Magpie? You love fat Elvis as much as I do. We could finally eat those bacon, banana, and peanut butter sandwiches we’ve dreamed about for years.”

The confetti got shredded into paper glitter. “I’m leaving for France right after graduation.”

Silence fell around the table.

Lizzy spoke what we all were thinking. “Then I guess the affair with Julien wasn’t a case of too much cheap wine and cheese addling your brain.”

Maggie shook her head. “He’s asked me to move over there. With him.”

“I’d hope with him,” Selah scoffed. “Asking you to move to the other side of the planet from your family and friends better mean a serious commitment.”

Selah wasn’t a fan of the Frenchman, whom she referred to as the French Incident in front of everyone but Maggie. Lizzy continued to call him Le Fromage, but from the face she often made when saying the word, she thought he was one very stinky cheese.

“If we don’t take one last epic road trip together, at least we can have a party. The last hurrah before we’re ejected from the womb of college.”

Ben and Gil gagged on my words.

“Womb? Really?” Gil set down his beer.

“The cold, harsh world awaits. No more seeing each other daily or hourly. It could be years before we’re all together again, you know. I’m merely pointing out the truth.”

“Have you heard of Prozac?” Selah raised her hands like a television preacher channeling the good stuff. “Because maybe you need a little happy pill pick-me-up to combat your premature mid-life crisis.”

“It’s the truth,” I mumbled.

“Then let’s have this party. Maybe it’ll cheer you up.” Selah poked my shoulder.

“It will. Last time we had a huge party, Maggie and Gil—” Maggie covered Lizzy’s mouth to shut her up.

“They what? Go on . . .”

I let it drop when Maggie shot me a death look and Gil frowned.

“I say we have a big bonfire.” The thought of burning things did make me feel better.

“What are you going to burn?” Ben asked.

“First thing, the damn chore wheel Jo made. Cursed thing has been an albatross, a dodo bird, and the stone to my Sisyphus for far too long.”

Jo gasped. “It’s served a very important purpose!”

“What?” I asked.

“Separating men from the apes?” Ben joked.

“Dirty, dirty apes.” Jo kissed his cheek. I sensed a really disturbing role play thing between them, but even I didn’t want to know.

“Okay.” Gil leaned back and pushed his glass away. “Tell me when to show up and I’ll be there. If you want us to play, I’ll call the guys.” He stood up and grabbed his jacket from the rack near the door.

Lizzy and Jo pulled out their day-planners and started discussing dates, making plans for the party. Jo looked up and smiled. “I can invite Kyle. He’s cute and definitely on your team.”

Kyle would be a nice addition. Out with the old, in with the new.

“Don’t forget to add lighter fluid for the chore wheel. It’s going to burn like a ring of fire.” I tapped the table in front of them and began singing Johnny Cash.

It could have been the indelible markers Jo used, or the copious amounts of lighter fluid, but the chore wheel burned in a rainbow hue of satisfaction. I tossed paper plates like frisbees into the fiery pyre. The wheel wasn’t the only thing I burned. I threw Warren’s number in the flames, too. I had it memorized, but I focused on the symbology.

We all watched the quick lifecycle of burning paper and cardboard. The sense of fulfilling a long term goal faded. I felt less smug than I’d hoped. The rest of the party guests had trickled away ages ago, leaving the seven of us around a dwindling bonfire.

Selah raised her cup. “To the end of an era.”

The others toasted her. Ben poured a little of his booze onto the ground for the homies a la Ice Cube’s song.

“A few more weeks and this will all be a memory.” Lizzy sighed.

“Where did the past four years go?” Jo snuggled into Ben’s side.

Gil strummed a sad procession of notes in a minor key on his bass.

Maggie wrapped a blanket around her and Selah on the picnic bench. “Next time we see each other will probably be Ben and Jo’s wedding.”