“Nothing.” I smile. “Josh proposed to Monica today. They’re getting married.” I smile as salty tears roll off my lips and into my beer while I try to swallow.
“That’s great, good for them,” Bo chimes in, a genuine smile on his lips. His eyes, however, are steeped in sadness.
Yeah, maybe that could have been us.
Rachel clearing her throat is the only indication I have that my eyes have been locked with Bo’s in a silent waltz of melancholy.
“It is great.” I try to recover from my social fumble. “They’re perfect for each other.”
“Ember, Regan says you guys are going to try some Irish rock stuff? I agree with him that you can totally pull it off.” Bo is talking to me like his friend. Friends. I look at Rae who shrugs and smiles.
“Uh, yeah, thanks. We haven’t really tried anything yet, but it’ll be fun to learn something new.”
This will go down in history as the most awkward conversation I’ve ever had. Ever.
“Hopefully you’ll play up there, too,” Bo says. His eyes carry hopefulness, familiarity, and pleads of a connection he clearly hopes still exists. He’s my musical soul mate. He knows it, I know it, and he’s trying to let Regan know it.
“What do you play?” Regan sounds surprised.
I shake my knee under the table nervously. Regan knows Bo’s my ex-boyfriend, and that it’s recent. I can’t explain that everything I love about playing the guitar is wrapped up in Bo Cavanaugh. I can’t explain why I don’t want to play anymore, even though I thought I’d be able to—singing’s hard enough knowing he’s not the one backing me up.
“Nothing. I don’t play anything.” Sweat is popping up along my hairline and the dizziness has returned. I get up and rush to the bathroom.
And I throw up.
No way can I be friends with Bo. What I felt when he was singing was far from friendship. It’s not his fault, I think between heaves on the cold floor. He seems to really be trying to maintain a pleasant atmosphere, since apparently, we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other. I lean back against the stall door, contemplating making Lost Dog my new hang out, when the bathroom door opens.
“Ember?” Rachel speaks quietly as she knocks on my stall.
This is mortifying.
I wipe tears and saliva from my face as I stand to open the door.
“Sorry.” I sneak past her and head for the sink in an attempt to clean up my streaked and splotchy face. “I just had a lot of emotions churn through me in the last half hour. They asked to be deposited there.” I chuckle as I point to the toilet.
Rae doesn’t smile. Instead, she comes up behind me and wraps an arm around my waist. “It’s hard for him, too, you know. He was a mess the whole ride down. I’m surprised he didn’t pull over to throw up himself.” She takes a deep breath and meets my gaze through the mirror before she continues, “This is the only time I’m going to say this because I care about you too much as a friend to push it, but, he loves you, Ember. It’s not going to stop anytime soon, no matter what I say to him, or how you act. I think you love him, too, though I’d never tell him that. He’s willing to be your friend if that’s what it takes to stay in your life. Let him be your friend.”
“I really do love you, you know that, Rae? I can try, for you and for now, to be his friend—a thoroughly embarrassed friend at the moment, but a friend. If it gets too weird, I’ll need a new plan.” I swish some water around my mouth, ignoring her assumption that I love her brother, and spit my anxiety into the sink.
We walk casually back to the table where I place my hand on Regan’s.
“Sorry, Regan. What I meant to say is I don’t really play anything. I know one song on the guitar and a few chords. Josh is going to help me learn.” Out of the corner of my eye I see Bo’s eyebrows twitch when I mention Josh.
You might be my friend, dude, but I can’t let you teach me how to play the guitar. I still have boundaries.
“That’s great. Hey, you guys should come down next week to see us play. I know it’s a haul, but we’ve got something good brewing.” Regan is all smiles as he brags us up.
For the rest of the evening, I’m able to smile and nod in the right places, maintaining appropriate eye contact, even with Bo. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to wrap my mind and soul around being his friend. It seems truly absurd, on one hand. But, on the other, maybe being friends is what we should have been all along, before “I love you” and “a thousand lifetimes” and everything else pushed us into a box that we couldn’t fit in. Something doesn’t sit right with my insides about being his friend, even though it’s the smart choice. I want Rachel in my life, period, and they’re a packaged deal. I need to learn to play nice. And fair.
We all head out to the parking lot to say our goodbyes. I tell Rae I’ll see her on Wednesday, smile and wave at Bo, and head to my car as Regan gives Rae his phone number.
“November?” I knew he was following me as soon as I walked away from Rae’s car.