LANA MASON
I was always fortunate growing up to always have a great birthday. My parents went all out in whatever way they could. For a long time, that meant going to Coney Island and spending the whole day eating junk and playing carnival games. When I was older, it meant letting me have my friends stay the night since I wasn't allowed to sleep at their houses, and they would stay up in their room for the whole night to make it seem like we had the place to ourselves. Seeing as I've known Jackie and Maya since our freshman year at FIT, all of my adult birthdays spent with them have been memorable as well.
"So how drunk are we getting tonight?" Maya asks. "Because I think we should all be shit-faced by at least midnight."
"Oh, God," I grimace as I roll my perfume oil across my pulse points. "When's the last time we used the phrase 'shit-faced'?"
"Probably for one of our birthdays last year," Jackie smirks. "I'm down to get down, but I am not getting shit-faced. I don't wanna ruin the night by puking or feeling like I'm going to puke the whole time."
I point at her and look at Jackie. "That's what I want."
Maya only appears mildly disappointed as she agrees. "So we get dinner at Via Carota and then bar hop across the Village from there?"
"That works," I run my fingers through my hair and look over my outfit in Maya's massive and regal full-length mirror.
Rather than going all out with a glam look, I opted for a white ribbed tank top to wear under a slightly oversized leather jacket, the most perfect light wash vintage Levis, and a pair of platform black ankle boots. Maya is in a mini-dress, as always, and Jackie decided to dress up a bit more than usual. That means she's wearing a dress as well, but somehow, we all look like we're going to the same place.
"Is what's-his-face sad that you didn't invite him to your birthday party?" Maya asks as we gather our things to head out. "The hot trainer."
"First of all, his name is Carter. Second, I told him that I was just doing something with my girlfriends and that it's not a birthday party or anything. He understood."
"So how is that going, anyway?" Jackie asks. "You guys have been hooking up for a while now."
I wrinkle my nose on our way out of the apartment, waiting for Maya to lock up. "It's been a while, yeah, but things are so casual. It's not like we're even really 'seeing' each other, you know what I mean? We've only been out maybe four times in the last couple of months since we met, so it's mostly just hanging out at one of our apartments, which always ends up turning into sex."
"So he's your fuck buddy," Maya concludes.
"Yeah," I press my lips together and fail to mention that the reason I'm not interested in progressing much further with him is because of Harry. Though, depending on how drunk I get tonight, that little fact might accidentally slip out.
Maybe I'm insane, but I could swear that something has changed between Harry and me since my first day on the job with him in his apartment. It used to be awkward and I could tell he was trying to keep his distance to make sure I felt comfortable. He practically refused to eat after work and he was always gone before I woke up in the morning. At some point, he switched to eating whatever amateur dinner I made every night and we have breakfast together three times a week every other week. I have no complaints.
At the somewhat posh Italian restaurant Maya picked for us, she gives the hostess her name for the reservation and we're guided through the earthy dining room to be placed at a table near the window. Between the three of us, Maya is absolutely the one who knows of the best places to eat in the city and we've never been disappointed after following her advice.
