Playing It Safe

CHAPTER FIVE


She what?!” Sabrina yells loud enough that I have to turn down the volume on my laptop.


We’re on our weekly Saturday morning Skype session. It’s become a ritual with us ever since she moved away last year. I just finished explaining to her about Marisa sticking her tongue out at me like a child on a school playground last night and me giving her the finger in retaliation.

“This girl obviously doesn’t know who she’s dealing with,” she says while laughing her ass off until she starts to cackle.

“I know, right? Can you believe that shit?”

“Wait a minute,” she gets out in between a laugh and wiping a tear from her eye. “You’ve got to tell Tyler about this.”

She yells out his name, and he appears on my screen a few seconds later with just a pair of sweatpants on, looking like he just rolled out of bed.

“Hey, Julia, how are you?” He gathers up Sabrina from the chair and sits down in her place. She plants herself back down on his lap, and he gives her a quick peck on the cheek.

“My morning just got way better by looking at your fine ass. How about you?”

“Julia!” Sabrina shouts in shock.

“Oh please, we’re all adults here. You know he’s fine. I know he’s fine. Shit, I bet he even knows he’s fine.”

Tyler is trying to cover the smirk on his face but not doing a very good job of it before clearing his throat. “So, what was it that had my girl laughing so hard? With you involved, I can only imagine.”

I tell him the story, but just like with Sabrina, I don’t elaborate too much on the Alex part of it. I know that Sabrina is completely head over heels in love with Tyler, but I still feel funny talking to her about him.

Tyler starts to laugh and then asks, “How old is this girl?”

“I have no idea. But if I had to guess, I’d say twenty-five at most.”

“Alex likes them young, huh?” he muses.

“I wouldn’t know,” I say, somewhat dismayed myself.

Sabrina notices my slight tone change. I can’t get much past her and vice versa. I’m grateful that I have someone in my life I can share my ups and downs with. But as close as we are, I still haven’t been able to fully disclose what I’ve been feeling toward Alex. Worse, I haven’t mentioned how I had a run-in with Aiden earlier in the week and the amount of times I’ve replayed our meeting in my head since then. I can only imagine how crazy I would sound to her by admitting out loud just how much that has done a bit of a number on me. The best part is I’m not even sure why. You would think after all this time since Aiden that I wouldn’t care, that it would just roll off my shoulders as if he meant nothing to me. And he doesn’t … kind of. I don’t know. I can’t even explain it to myself, so there is no way in hell that I could possibly explain it to Sabrina, right?

I feel guilty keeping things from Sabrina, and I know she’ll be upset when she eventually finds out, but for now it’s for the best. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. Ugh, I know, I know, I’m a horrible best friend, and now I think I have to cover my tracks a bit.

“I mean, I don’t know how serious they are or anything like that. It’s only the second time I’ve seen them together. And now that I think about it, both times I’ve seen them together he didn’t seem to be too interested in her, so I have no f*cking clue what he sees in her. Maybe she has a cape flying out of her crotch with a giant S on it. That, or she can suck the chrome off a trailer hitch. Either of those has to be the only explanation, because everything else I’ve seen screams see you next Tuesday. And a huge one, at that.”

Tyler is now doubled over laughing while Sabrina is shaking her head at me, covering her mouth with her hands to try to control her giggles.

“Wow, why don’t you tell us how you really feel, Julia?” she gets out, while failing miserably at holding her laughter in.

Oops. I really need to try and apply a filter to my thoughts more often before they reach my mouth. So much for trying to cover my tracks. I think I just elaborated a tad too much on my assumptions about Alex’s relationship with Marisa, or whatever you call that aberration.

Honestly, aren’t you scratching your head on this one too? I sure as hell am. I’m a little embarrassed to report that I may have spent most of my night lying in bed having an actual argument with myself over it. Out loud.

“I’m glad I could be a source of entertainment for you guys this morning,” I deadpan while they’re still laughing.

Sabrina collects herself long enough to say, “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

She elbows Tyler behind her to get him to stop laughing, then leans in to whisper something in his ear.

“Hey! That’s not fair! Don’t be whispering sweet nothings in his ear while I’m sitting right here.”

When she turns her body to face the camera again, Tyler brings his lips to her neck and starts to nuzzle her until she giggles again.

“I so hate you guys right now,” I say sarcastically. “Get a room, for chrissakes!”

Sabrina slaps him away and then clears her throat dramatically. “I have something to tell you.”

“Oh my God! Are you PG, Sabrina?”

“PG?” she asks, all confused.

“Yes, PG. You know, like Mary with Jesus but you know who the father is,” I say, pointing at Tyler on the monitor, who is practically choking.

“Are you insane? No, I’m not pregnant! And if I was, I don’t think I’d be telling you that news after you just called someone a cun …” She trails off, not being able to bring herself to complete the actual word. She’s always had an issue with cursing, so I’m surprised she was able to get as far as the letter n. Me, on the other hand … well let’s just say that if I had one of those curse jars where I put a dollar in for every bad word that came out of my mouth, Robin Leach would be doing a segment on me on the next episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.

“Oh shit! Are you guys getting married?”

Both of them answer at the same time, she with a “no” and he with a “not yet.”

I tilt my head, thinking that little exchange right there was rather interesting, but I decide not to jump all over it like I normally would. I’ll just ask her about it another time when Tyler’s not around.

“Okay, so if you’re not knocked up and not getting married, then what is it?”

She flashes me a smile and says, “I kind of got a promotion at work.”

“Congrats! That’s great news.”

“Thank you,” she says.

“Wait, what do you mean ‘kind of’?”

“Well, it’s not official yet because my boss wants to see how I manage the next two exhibits at the museum on my own.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“You really think so?” she asks.

“Girlie, I’m positive. You have nothing to worry about. Right, Tyler?”

He agrees and gives her a tight squeeze before shooting me a wink, which even though he’s my bestie’s man makes me want to swoon on the spot.

“Your boyfriend is winking at me again, Sabrina,” I tease. “Please have him try to control himself around me.”

He laughs as she gives him a light slap on his arm.

“All right, you two,” I say, noticing the time. “I’ve gotta motor since I have to stop by my parents’ house in a bit.”

I bring my hand to my lips to blow her a kiss, and she repeats the gesture before we start in on saying how much we miss and love each other, as only true BFFs can. This tacks on a whole other five minutes to the Skype session before finally Tyler gets exasperated and just starts shutting it down on us. Good thing too, because if not, we could have easily spent the rest of the day on there talking about everything under the sun and then some.


As soon as I switch off my laptop, I move my ass into gear and start getting ready for the visit, which should be all kinds of interesting. My mom and dad love each other, no doubt about that, having been devoted to each other for the better part of almost thirty years now. But having been together for so long, they tend to get on each other’s nerves a bit. I’m fairly certain it has something to do with the fact that ever since my dad retired a few years ago, he’s home a lot more than he used to be, and my mom’s not digging him cramping her style.

I hope to God that my little brother, Darren, will be there since my other brother, Lucas, is living out in Las Vegas. I should probably call Darren and find out what his deal is and see if I can bribe him into hanging out with me while I’m there. He’s usually pretty easy to get a hold of. As for Lucas, you can never get him to pick up the phone, much less return a freaking phone call. I’m lucky if he even remembers to call me on my birthday.

Picking up my cell phone off the coffee table, I unlock the screen and thumb scroll through my contact list until I find Darren’s name. While I’m scrolling, I notice that I have a ridiculous amount of people on here that I haven’t spoken to in years. Like this entry right above Darren’s for a person (I have to say person, because I have no clue if they’re male or female) named Dale. Who the hell is Dale? And how did they get starred and categorized as a “favorite” under my contacts? I’m still pondering this Dale person when I press Darren’s name on the screen just below it.

He picks up on the second ring. “Talk to me, Goose.”

“What’s up, Maverick?”

It would be important to note that my brother Darren stumbled upon Top Gun when he was a kid and became obsessed with it. Hence the nicknames for each other of Maverick and Goose. In fact, he was so obsessed with that movie that he eventually turned it into a career by joining the Air Force right after high school.

“Nothing much, heading over to Mom and Pop’s,” he says.

“Yes! I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Why?” he asks. “Are you heading over there too?”

“Yup. You’ll probably beat me there, but I’ll be there sooner rather than later.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon then. Later, Goose.”

“Later, Maverick.”

I disconnect the call, but my phone rings in my hand a second later, so I answer it thinking it’s Darren again.

“Did you forget something, Maverick?” I ask while roaming toward my bedroom to get dressed.

“It’s your mother, not Darren,” she says in a rush. “Julia, are you still planning on coming over today?”

“Yes. I actually just got off the phone with Darren, and he said he was stopping over as well.”

“Oh, thank God!” she says. “Your father is driving me crazy.”

I mosey over to my closet and ask, “Is everything okay?”

“Sweetheart,” she says, her voice going deathly quiet, “I love your father dearly, but if he brings out his toolbox one more time to fix something, I may stab him in the eye with one of his screwdrivers.”

My eyes are trying to zero in on the outfit I’m going to wear when I hear my dad’s booming voice in the background. “Marilyn! Where the hell is my goddamn Phillips screwdriver? I left it on the kitchen island not two f*cking minutes ago!”

“Mom, did you take Daddy’s screwdriver?”

She doesn’t answer, but I can hear her breathing on the line still. “Mom?”

“I’m here, sweetheart, and yes I hid his screwdriver … and you’d better hurry,” she says cryptically before hanging up.

Jesus Christ, those two are going to end up killing each other if my dad doesn’t get a new hobby, and soon. Flying through what normally takes me about a half hour to accomplish by throwing on a pair of black yoga pants and an old, black racer-back tank top, I’m ready to roll. I slip on my flip-flops and gather all my hair in a ponytail while heading out the door to face whatever calamity awaits me at my parents’ house.