I took Anton. He had a break in filming from his show, and he loved the beach. And the company.
Leona brought her still-boyfriend pilot, Ed. I still didn't like him, but I kept my mouth shut about it. There's a point when your girlfriend has fallen too far for a guy to be turned back with any sage advice, and that was the point when I stopped giving it. I wouldn't alienate her. We were put on this earth to support one another, not tear each other down, and so I was resigned to watch, worry, and wait. There was nothing I could do but be there to pick her up off the ground if she fell too hard.
Demi brought her friend, Harry. He was an adorable college kid with messy brown hair and thick, black hipster glasses. I kind of loved him. He was sweet and shy, and innocent enough to be just perfect for a bright and shiny young soul like Demi.
Farrah brought along Mitch, a guy she'd been dating on and off for at least a year.
He wasn't her boyfriend, per se, but he was certainly a regular, and all of the roommates liked him.
Even me. He was a cop—LAPD—so I'd just avoided him at first, aggressively so.
As I've said, I have a very healthy fear of the police.
But over time, Mitch had just sort of grown on me. He was nice, and he seemed fair. Honest. Sincere and straightforward, particularly so when he talked about his work. He was one of the good guys. It was as refreshing as it was baffling to run into one.
Still, I'd never get over being paranoid around law enforcement, and I knew that he would always make me nervous.
Of course I could never let that show.
We took two cars, and Anton and I ended up in the car with Mitch and Farrah. Which is how I found out that Anton did not share my opinion about Harry.
"What a smarmy little punk," he muttered as we parted ways with the other group, climbing into cars to head to the beach. His eyes were on Harry, who was opening the door for Demi, so I didn't have to ask whom he meant.
Mitch was driving, Farrah in the passenger seat, and I was sharing the backseat with Anton, so I had an unimpeded view as I shot him a look. "What is your problem? Harry is a doll." I hadn't been aware there was any animosity between them, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out where it came from.
"I guess. If you like pretentious little mamas' boys."
I blinked at him slowly, letting him see how crazy I thought he was. "What the hell, beardo? Leave the poor kid alone. What'd he ever do to you?"
His arms were crossed over his chest, biceps bulging in a way that would have been very distracting if I wasn't starting to see him as a brother, and his face was set in what I would have called a pout if he weren't a huge dude with a man-bun and amazing facial hair.
Nope, I decided. It was still a pout.
"He didn't do anything," Anton finally answered, "but there's no way he's good enough for Demi. She's out of his league."
I don't know why, but I still didn't connect the dots. I was preoccupied, had too much going on in my head, and yes, I was being self-absorbed, were the only excuses I could come up with later.
At the time, though, I only said, "She's out of everyone's league. She's a perfect fucking angel, but a girl's still gotta date."
Anton just curled his lip. "I bet he doesn't even need to wear those glasses. And the douchebag called me his fucking bruh." He snorted. "Bruh. I bet he uses the word hella."
That made me laugh, because I'm a little bit evil (on a good day), but I quickly stifled it. "Just be nice. Jesus. If I can pull myself together and be pleasant for a day, so can you."
"I don't even think they're dating," Farrah added helpfully from the front seat. "They're just friends. She likes to hang out with him. Kind of like you two."
That seemed to improve Anton's mood dramatically, but again, I still didn't catch the significance.
"And us," Mitch added.
Farrah gave him one of those looks you can only give to a lover who has just said something that offended you. "Not like us. We have sex. Sometimes."
I saw Mitch's baffled expression in the rearview and it almost made me laugh.
"You guys aren't sleeping together?" he asked either Anton or me or I guess both of us.
At that I did laugh. Maybe I should have been offended at such a personal question, but I knew he wasn't trying to be rude. He was genuinely shocked.
Anton was smiling and shaking his head as he answered, "Not at all."
"Like ever?" Mitch seemed unconvinced.
"Never," I added. "We're literally just friends. So un-L.A. it hurts."
"Dude," Mitch said, and it was definitely directed at Anton.
"Dude, I know," Anton shot back, still grinning.
Farrah and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. "Relax, bruhs," I said, mocking them. "You don't need to feel sorry for Anton. He gets around plenty. Just not with me."
"Dude," Mitch commiserated again.