One Last Time

one more complaint

"So, how did it go?" Valentina asked, jostling Chloe with her shoulder as they walked along Drewers street. They were in the Cultural Quarter, a name given to this row of streets dotted by colorful graffiti and lined with bars and restaurants from around the world. Chloe rolled her eyes as she took an offering of a sample of bulgogi and popped it into her mouth.

"Rich people are just about as boring as they seem," Chloe answered. Valentina groaned theatrically.

"I don't care about the rich people. Did you see Benjamin?"

Chloe shrugged noncommittally.

"I mean, yeah. It was a fundraiser for his campaign. He gave a speech. And then he dragged me into the staircase and fucked me silly."

Valentina shrieked. "You slut!" she exclaimed, slapping Chloe's arm. "So now what, are you guys back together?" Chloe shook her heard forcefully.

"No. Absolutely not. Are you kidding? No."

"Me thinks the lady doth protest too much," Valentina answered, wiggling her eyebrows. Chloe groaned in dismay and covered her face with her hands.

"I like him so much, Val," she whispered. They had paused in front of a taco bar with cheap outdoor seating. Valentina guided her friend to one of the plastic chairs, and a waiter materialized from thin air with water and menus.

"I don't understand why you are literally torturing yourself," Valentina answered, looking over the menu with a sharp eye. Chloe dropped her hands.

"Yes, you do," she answered, picking up her own menu. "You're just as stubborn as I am, and if you'd been in my place eight years ago, you would've done the same thing." Valentina put her menu down, and fixed Chloe with an intense gaze. She put her hand on Chloe's, to soften the blow of what she was going to say next.

"We're different, Chlo," she said, fixing Chloe with her brown gaze. "You're practical. You think yourself into knots. You leave no room for a little magic."

"And you leave too much room for it," Chloe answered, pulling her hand away. And they were both right. In high school, Chloe had played the cello and the flute because those instruments provided the greatest opportunities for scholarships to college. She had studied hard, had worked at the laundromat two blocks over, and had made intentional decisions about how she would apply for college. And of course, her hard work had paid off. She'd gone to the prestigious Alfred Tonks University School of Journalism, and had graduated with honors.

Valentina, on the other hand, had been flighty as a bird throughout high school. She was a cheerleader and went through boys like a sick man went through tissue paper. She danced and sang and joined whatever clubs caught her fancy. She excelled in physics and failed English twice, and when it came time to apply for college she aced the College Admissions Test without studying and decided after all of it that she wouldn't go to college anyway. Now, she made most of her living from selling her art and teaching tumbling at the gymnasium on the weekends.

And for all of their differences, Valentina was always happy. Chloe was usually not. She frowned. Their food came moments later.

"You know what your problem is?" Valentina asked between tacos. "You're so scared of failing that you don't even try. You're a coward."

"Some people would call that cautious," Chloe answered. Valentina nodded.

"When's the last time you did something without thinking about it first?" Valentina asked, wiping her lips and reapplying her dark lipstick.

"When did we become friends, again?" Chloe asked. Valentina laughed and rolled her eyes.

"I mean it, Chlo. When did you do last something before calculating the risk and benefits?"

"I snuck into the fundraiser," Chloe pointed out. "I stole a pair of Louboutins."

"On impulse?"

Chloe grinned sheepishly. Valentina rolled her eyes.

"Enough about me," Chloe insisted, as she placed the exact change for the meal on the table. "How are you? How's Taylor?"

At the mention of her boyfriend's name, Valentina's demeanor changed. Chloe rose an eyebrow.

"What is it, what's wrong?" she asked. Valentina turned her brown eyes to Chloe.

"He got a job, finally," she said. "With a startup as their software engineer. On the west coast."

Chloe nodded, frowning. "That's hard, Val," she said. "But long distance can work. Especially with the two of you. And startups can be finicky - who knows how long he'll be out there." Valentina's expression darkened.

"He asked me to go with him, Chloe. And I said yes."

Chloe stopped in her tracks and stared at her friend, shock making her dumb. Valentina sighed and crossed her arms, waiting for Chloe to recover.

"But Valentina, your whole life is here. Your mom, your studio..."

"Taylor is my whole life," Valentina answered. "I'm happiest when I'm with him. We want to get married. Start a family. I want to be where he is. We'll figure out the rest."

Chloe bit her lip to stop herself from saying what she really wanted to say. She wanted to tell Valentina that she was being stupid and short-sighted, that the job wouldn't last and the dream wouldn't last and the perfect bubble would pop. She wanted to warn her friend about the dangers of hanging your life up on one person, hoping that they would be strong enough to carry your wants and hopes and expectations, and about what would happen when they inevitably couldn't. She wanted to preach of sorrow, unhappiness, infidelity and worse. She wanted to slap Valentina. Hard. Across the face. Painful enough to wake her up out of this stupor and see what a risk she was taking, and all of the things that could go wrong. But most of all, she wanted to beg Valentina to stay. She wanted to make Valentina promise that she wouldn't leave Chloe behind here, in Chance City, still struggling to make ends meet at the end of each month. She wanted to say that she was jealous - jealous of Valentina's ability to be free and do what made her happy, and to be in love enough to make everything else seem trivial.

Chloe smiled. And held out her arms. And hugged her friend tightly.

"I'm so happy for you, Val," she whispered. "Promise you'll write."

"Every day," her friend answered.