Authors: Monica Miller
After talking to her I logged on my Facebook account, where I haven’t been for way too long, and the reality hit me. I was there, standing right next to Matt, who looked as perfectly as my mind reminded him. The fact that my imagination hadn’t magnified anything about him bothered me. I didn’t have any recent news about him, although I’d probably want to.
I still had his number, and all the photos we took while we gone out as friends, but they were hidden in some folder in another folder, and I was pretending they didn’t exist.
Yes, I was wondering if it hadn’t been a mistake to avoid him all these months, if we should’ve talk about it, or just say… something. I wondered if he ever thought about me, at least once in a while. If he remembers the time we spent together. Maybe it was foolish, because we weren’t
that
close until Prom. Anyway, that was a long time ago, and the chances of seeing him again were pretty low.
He had finished his college, and maybe I will see him again in a couple of years, or maybe on a holiday, or I will find out he got married, or… something. We were so far away from one another and only the thought of it made my heart squeeze in my chest. I had no idea how I wanted “us” to be, everything being so messed up in my mind, but the distance between us bothered me. I am in Los Angeles, and I should enjoy and take advantage of every moment here, but I can’t.
I miss Matt.
***
Monica put my scented candles around the living room, having a fantastic dexterity with organizing, saving two of them and placed them on the breakfast bar in the kitchen, a red and black one. She put the little ones on the tray in the bathroom. That girl could have been my mother’s daughter.
I always loved scented candles, and I had dozens at home, but I only brought my favorite ones. I also loved photographs and frames, in general. I had a lot of them around the mirror I had in my room, at home, mostly candid photos. I also brought a black frame, and Monica instantly loved it, placing it in the bookshelf near the window.
“It doesn’t have a photograph,” she observed, looking at it. “Is it from someone important?”
“No,” I answered while eating a sandwich. “I wanted it for an important picture from this new phase in my life. You know the independence.”
Monica nodded and smiled kindly.
“We’ll keep it this way till we find something special, agreed?”
I said “yes”. She went in the bedroom and I kept thinking about Hilary, whose roommate was annoying, and this amazing Greek goddess had absolutely every quality in the world. But it had to be something there. I mean she couldn’t be that nice! But instead of disappointing me, she kept surprising me every time and made me love Los Angeles even more.
“Listen, tonight I’m gonna meet some friends at Destiny’s. Wanna come?” she asked coming back in the living room with three hangers with night dresses.
My first instinct was to say no, because I feared of being rejected by her friends, but then I thought that even though I loved the apartment, I couldn’t stay here forever and avoid Los Angeles’ population. So I agreed.
“Lovely. I can help you with your outfit.”
I didn’t refuse any suggestion from Monica and I ended up wearing a yellow summer dress and a pair of Monica’s Louboutin shoes, which seemed really comfortable at first. She straightened my hair and I arranged her curly hair, then she helped me with the makeup and I helped her, laughing and joking all along. Monica wore a white blouse and black shorts, with a black jacket and brown boots. I was sure she could be better than any model in the world just by the way she wore those clothes, making them so sophisticated and cool.
When we got out the building we ran into Anne and Jane, the girls Rick introduced me and apparently they were very good friends with Monica. Jane gave us a ride to Destiny’s in her convertible BMW, and I realized I lived around rich people. I wasn’t bothered by that. I also had plenty of money, my father being an accountant, and my mom was a housewife and we still had everything.
When we arrived at Destiny’s a tall, handsome man opened Monica’s door and hugged her, looking at her like she was the sun in a cloudy day.
“Em, he’s Ben,” Monica told me, all smiles. “My boyfriend,” she added, proudly.
I thought about the fact that the only person who calls me “Em” was Rick and I didn’t know if I was bothered about it or not, it just sounded weird coming from someone other than my brother. Then I shook my head, looking at Ben, who was completely charming, looking so elegant and educated, the type who would never say something inappropriate. And he looked so in love with Monica, but I could understand that part.
I met other two girls from UCLA, Mariah and Marianne, who were as nice as everybody I’ve met so far.
I’ve drank a Bloody Mary, because of Mariah’s persistence, and after that the atmosphere became cozier. Everybody seemed willing to let me in their circle and I was so grateful Monica was my roommate. Besides Ben there were two other guys, Craig, who studied Human Resources or something like that, and Marshall, student at Law School. Craig was seriously funny, and he had talked all night long. I met the waitress, too. She was a part of the entourage, her name was Becca and she studied Hotel Management at UCLA, like the rest of us.
“I want you to meet my new roommate she’ll be at UCLA too,” Becca started after our third round of drinks. “She’s not that great and it’s kind of spoiled,” she whispered, “but… I’ll bring her anyway.”
I haven’t said anything but I felt like I couldn’t meet another new person, because my head was full of new names, faces and information. Plus, I’ve met only nice people so far. I didn’t want spoiled princesses. I looked at Monica, who shrugged her shoulders and continued her talk with Marianne.
“I’m back. So… Guys, this is Gabrielle.”
When I’ve turned my head and actually saw
Gabrielle
, I drowned with the tequila Mariah made me drink. Was the same Gabrielle Gomez from high school! In Los Angeles! At UCLA!
“Hi, Gabrielle,” Monica said, nice as always. “I’m Monica Martin.”
Gabrielle, as shocked as I was, smiled to Monica, and stared at me while the others introduced themselves. I felt uncomfortable, and told her to pull a chair. She sat next to me.
“Weird, isn’t it?” she whispered to me, and I had to struggle to understand what she had said because of the loud music.
“You can say that again,” I answered, giving her a shot of tequila. “You look like you need it.”
“You know, Emma, if you know a part of the problem it doesn’t mean you really know me, so…”
“Hey, you,” Monica interrupted us, with a serious look. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you don’t come here and yell at my friend. You know how to make a first impression.”
“No, no,” I said, seeing how Gabrielle shifted uncomfortable on her chair. “Gabrielle was… we went at the same high school. Sorry, Mon. And sorry, Gabrielle. I wasn’t talking about Curtis. I was referring to the fact that it must be hard for you here, in L.A, to be on your own. I mean, I have Monica, otherwise…”
Monica wanted to add something else, but she didn’t and eventually smiled, and returned to her talk with Marianne.
“I’m sorry,” Gabrielle whispered, drinking the shot.
I nodded, still shocked and I decided to try and don’t upset her, considering she had a lot on her plate already.
***
In the next few weeks I ended up spending a lot of time with Gabrielle. It wasn’t like we were suddenly bound by a deep friendship, but there was some mutual acceptance between us after some experiences together. But, oddly, I felt comfortable around her.
The rest of the group didn’t like her very much at first, but they got used to her, as well as Monica did. She started talking to her at the parties we went, and she had always been polite with Gabrielle. After a couple of days they could really get on really well.
“I found out something,” Gabrielle told me one night we went to take a walk together on the beach.
“Do tell,” I encouraged her, watching the waves.
“I know that probably I shouldn’t been gossiping, but… You know, it’s hard not to comment about anything, so...” she added with a guilty smile.
“Oh, Gabrielle, say it already!” I laughed. “This is the longest time you haven’t gossiped about someone, isn’t it?”
She ran her hand through her brown-red hair and seemed she really had trouble reminding that. “There was a time in Italy… No, I went online the next day and gossiped about it,” she smiled. “So do you wanna know?”
“I’m not that sure, but is that going to stop you?”
“Well, no. So I can tell you?”
She surely had a problem with the word “so.” I answered “yes”.
“Are you sure? This is on you.”
“Oh God, are you always like that?”
“Not really. Sometimes,” she admitted. “So, I found out that girl, Jane… Had a relationship with a dude named Adam, somewhere last year. Big love, you know, the dude wrote her poems and songs… He studied… somewhere. I don’t know where. Anyway, so… Now’s my favorite part.” she said with an evil smile. “Her friend,
best
friend,” she emphasized, “Anne, is kind of dating him now.”
“And Jane knows about it?”
“I don’t know, Becca told me she saw them. She has a big mouth, but, hey, a girl can hope for some gossiping,” she murmured.
“And why is that your favorite part? I mean you…”
“I know, it happened to me, too,” she sighed, making a pause. “It wasn’t such a big deal,” she lied, avoiding my eyes.
I didn’t say anything, because before seeing her in Los Angeles we barely spoke. And if we did, it was about school. And I had been so happy for what happened to her at Prom. I knew I will have an entire life to be sorry for that!
“It was a big deal,” Gabrielle whispered after a few minutes of walking in silence.
She stopped, and sat on the cold sand, the wind making her hair float in the air. I had to admit, it looked better than her usual iron-straightened hair. I wasn’t so sure about what I should do, so I sat next to her, in silence.
“It was such a big deal,” Gabrielle repeated. She had been Prom Queen, also the most popular, and annoying girl in my high school.
I had no idea what I was supposed to say. It was probably the first time Gabrielle Gomez showed she had feelings.
“I’m sorry,” I told her with the most sincere tone I had ever used.
I grabbed her hand due to some impulse, and she nodded without saying anything else. She leaned her head on my shoulder. And I guess that was the moment Gaby became my best friend, just like Monica was.
***
The first months of my semester passed so quickly I barely realized. Monica was so busy every day, but we all were. We stopped going out on weekends, and I wondered how this will be during exams. But I didn’t have to think about it now.
I haven’t spoken to my friend since forever, poor Hilary had so many courses she didn’t like, and her roommate was annoying, the environment she lived in was unhealthy, and she seemed to hate it. I didn’t. I was so happy in Los Angeles, and I had an amazing life here.
I was used to Los Angeles’ life style and its crazy rhythm, with all the people, foreigners, and visitors, eager to see every corner of the Los Angeles they saw on TV. The truth is Los Angeles was completely great. But I’ve already said that. Although, Los Angeles is never a subject who can be truly covered in a debate and it can never get old. It is the paradise city, as Guns’n’Roses would say.
Surely I missed my small Connecticut town, and my family, especially Rick, my friends and the clean air, but I wasn’t complaining. I had the best time of my life!
In a clouded Saturday, I decided to take a walk on the beach with Monica and Gabrielle.
“But, Em, don’t you have a… crush on someone? I know I shouldn’t interfere, but…”
Immediately Matt’s face appeared in my mind, but I shook my head, and I answered that I didn’t.
“I know a few cute guys. Have you met Morgan? I don’t think I’ve introduced you to him. Anyway, he’s a lifeguard in Santa Monica, and I’m telling you, Em…
I didn’t listen to her talking, although the idea of a Morgan wasn’t that bad, but I was fighting the fact that my mind kept thinking about Matt. Maybe the problem wasn’t that I wanted him, but I wanted what we had. Our friendship. Being
friends
.
But what was the point of it?
Monica changed the subject, talking about her favorite courses when Gabriella’s phone rang.
“What the…” she started, staring at her phone.
“What?” Monica and I asked at the same time.
“It’s Curtis,” Gabrielle asked, completely stunned, and then looked away.
“What the hell?” I shrugged my shoulders and, without actually thinking, I took the phone from her hands. “Hello, Mr. Jerk. You reached the assholes voice mail. If you feel like you’re an asshole, please make us the favor, and kill yourself. Or maybe you could go back to where you came from, meaning from your own sweet mother. Have a good day!”
I hung up and returned the phone back to Gabrielle. For a few seconds none of us made a sound, then Monica burst out laughing, and I started laughing as well, while Gabrielle was still in shock. Good minutes had passed when she barely had the shadow of a smile, while Monica and I couldn’t stop laughing.
“What was that?” finally asked Gabrielle, starting to laugh.
“Somebody had to tell him something, right?”
“Hey, don’t you have a picture of him?” Monica asked suddenly. “Not that I’m interested, I just want to see how big and strong was… Mr. Curtis the Asshole,” she said, before starting to laugh again.
I was surprised to see that Gabrielle looked through her files on her iPhone, and she finally found a photograph with him. A very good one, I had to admit, and although I hated the guy because he had hurt Gabrielle, it was really hard to take my eyes off his picture.
“Oh, but he is… Smockin’ hot!” Monica said with her eyes wide open. “The typical S.O.B,” she added. “They’re all the same. Oh, God!”
“What do you know, Little Miss Perfect?” Gabrielle asked with her usual irony.