"Just Friends"

Chapter 35

JULIE

"So how come you have an English accent but drop it when drunk?" I asked Emma as I applied the mask to my face, staring at Sam's bathroom mirror. 
"Well, I was born here," she answered, fixing the details of the light green goo on her face. "Literally. Here. In New Jersey. It was just me and my mom, but we have a complicated relationship-"
"I hate her guts," Sam jumped in.
As if it was completely normal to insult someone's mother.
That shook me, but I figured she had a reason.
"Well, yeah. She's a-" Emma tried to explain.
"A bitch," Sam interrupted her. "A bitchy, awful homophobe. You can say it."
So, yeah, she had a reason.

But the dread on Emma's face got to me. 

I get it. Sometimes parents can suck. 
That doesn't mean saying that out loud comes naturally to us. 

Suddenly, I found this new connection with Emma. 
We were both the misfortunate kids of those types of people who shouldn't have had kids. 
There's a club, I swear to God. An unspoken, unheard-of club. 
Kind of like Fight Club. 

"Uhm- maybe, don't force anything onto her," I told Sam.
Calm and respectfully, but also trying to make my point clear: that wasn't okay.
"This is her life, her explanation. And maybe- You should let her use her words, on her time."

Sam stared at me point blank.
I can't remember the last time I told her off. But she obliged.
Emma glanced at me, with a sweet yet shy glamour, and I gave her a comprehensive look. 

"The point is," she continued briefly, "that I left when I turned eighteen. And I moved to England."
"I understand that. But why did you move back here?" I asked.
"Well, I met a girl there." She finished with her mask and turned to me. "We fell in love, and we moved in together. It was a full-on love story. But then she got offered a job here. She had just finished law school and didn't want to lose the opportunity. Which I completely understood. So, I moved here with her."
"That's huge of you," Sam said, now sitting on the counter. 
"Yeah, well. It wasn't that good of an idea because she cheated on me two months later. With a co-worker. But, whatever." She rolled her eyes and shrunk her shoulders. "It's good to be back home. I don't care about my mom as much as I used to, so that's not an issue. And I like my life here."
"What do you do for a living?" I asked, following the realization that I had never asked. 
"I repair cars."
"Seriously?" I chuckled in shock. 
"Yeah. I know the clothing choice makes it confusing, but it's true." 
"Wow."

Honestly, the idea of this delicate woman standing in front of me with a headband pulling back her hair and the longest, curviest eyelashes I had ever seen; laying on the floor under a car with an oil smudge on her cheek, was something I couldn't picture.
But still, she was standing in front of me, assuring me that was her job.
And Sam agreed.
Incredible. 

We left the bathroom and made our way to the kitchen. I grabbed three wine glasses there, and Sam took the bottle Emma had brought with her out of the fridge. We both placed the items on the table. 

Emma was already seated and we joined her. 
"So, Julie," she called me as she poured the wine. "Tell me about your love life. I want some tea. Now that I'm settled with someone, life lacks drama."
I chuckled.
Sam stared at her in silly disbelief.
"Well, I've had my share of hook-ups," I answered. "Boys, girls, enbys. You know, the whole deal. But I only had two real relationships. Evan and Veronica."
"Veronica!" Sam stated with a smile on her face, as her arms hit the table. "I miss her."
"Yeah..." I bit my upper lip as I remembered why I broke things off with Veronica.

Of course, Sam had no idea.
I always said that I didn't want to talk about it, or gave a really vague answer; because I couldn't tell her the truth. 

Emma was looking at me with enormous curiosity, and I realized I had to explain the event as if it wasn't this dreadfully uncomfortable thing for me to discuss in front of Sam. 

I got my shit together, praying it didn't show, and began the explanation: "We met at a coffee shop I worked at a few years ago. My family life is complicated," I used Emma's words. "And I needed the job to support me and my brother, Dylan. The owner was known for hiring underage kids, but not in a child labor way. He just grew up in the system and knows that sometimes, we need to support ourselves. She was also supporting herself. She was fifteen and living alone because her foster parents were shitty people. So we connected over that, you know?"
Emma nodded.
Sam was having a go at some chips she grabbed at some point.
She already knew the story.
She had lived the story. 

"We became really close friends. We helped each other out. With the money, the errands, and all that stuff. Eventually, things got romantic. I mean, there was chemistry between us from the very first second. But, as we got to know each other, it wasn't just chemistry anymore. It was love."

The memories flooded my mind, and I grew uneasy. 
I glanced at the ponytail sitting on my wrist and began pulling at it continuously. 

"So we worked on a relationship. She moved in. Because we were already doing all the house things together, and she and Dylan were best friends, so it made sense."
"That is so beautiful," Emma commented with a kind smile. "What happened?"
I stopped picking at the black strap and set my gaze on her. She almost seemed sad.
A pit opened in my stomach, and a patient urge to cry caught up to me.
"I kicked her out," I said, shameful.
"What? Why?" Emma shrunk her brows, confused.
I smirked. I couldn't understand her reaction any more.

Sometimes even I forget why. 
Not literally. I know it was because I was in love with Sam; like I had always been.
And it didn't feel fair to her. I really was trying to do the right thing. 
But it just bugs me. 
We had something great. Something amazing, honestly. 
And I ruined it because I couldn't move on from Sam. 

It gets to a point where I begin to wonder if I could ever have an honest, real relationship with someone other than her. And that kinda sucks. Big time. 
All it means is that there's a really high probability that I will never be with someone.

I snickered, and tears streamed down my face. "I don't know."
Both girls came up to me, worried sick. 
"No, I'm okay." I wiped the tears. "I really am. I just- I haven't talked about her in a really long time. I miss her. I screwed up. Hugely. And I can't do anything to fix it. And that just- It kinda breaks me."
"Hey!" Emma grabbed my face gently. "You don't know that, okay? You both have so many years ahead of you. And life is about change. So, that could change. You can't lose hope. It just needs time. And that's something you most definitely have."
I smiled. She was right. What did I know?

"Listen to me," Sam stated. "I know what you need."
I scoffed. "What do I need?"
"You need to get drunk with us. And talk stupidity. Like, stories of our hook-ups."
"I- I'm not sure I feel fun right now, Sam."
She leaned on the floor and stared at me. 
Her blue eyes caught me by surprise and gave me a sense of comfort, warmth. 
She sighed. "I know that. And that's 'cause I know you."
She drew a simple smile, which I slowly reciprocated.
"So, trust me. I know you, and I know what kind of support you need right now."

I blew air, trembling my lips.
"Do you trust me?" she asked.
I smirked. "I trust you more than anyone."
"Great."
She stood back up and handed me the glass of wine Emma must have filled.
"Then drink up, bitch. We're getting wasted tonight, baby."
"Yeah!" Emma shrieked, with a half-empty chalice in her hand, and kissed Sam as deeply as she could manage. 
I took a deep breath in and chugged the red drink down my throat.