Page 18 of I Love My Mistake
Chapter Eleven
At Marlena’s Party
“Ihaven’t seen you at Marlena’s parties. Are you a new friend of hers?” I’ve never met the guy before, the one who’s made his way out to the balcony to join me for a cigarette…and from the looks of how he’s holding that stick, he’s never smoked before, either. I have to admit his feigning being a smoker to talk to me, is appreciated. I’m a fifth wheel tonight, as is so often the case lately. David and Jess and Amber and Josh. And me. Outskirts Number Five. The single girl. I don’t even mind being single, but it’s hard to stick to that belief when your best girlfriends are getting loved on by two men who’ve claimed them, right in front of you and the whole damn world. I had to come out here… to escape.
I watch, slightly amused but for the wrong reasons, as he takes another drag. He looks like a teenager who’s trying to act cool. He’s average looking, and I’m trying to be happy he’s here…but really? There’s something needy about him that is already rubbing me the wrong way, two seconds in. Michael has held the bar very high and I’m finding few men who can jump it. Actually, I haven’t found one.
But he’s here and I’m bored so I answer. “I’ve known Marlena about six months now. Couldn’t make it to the last one.” I bite the corner of my mouth, wondering if I have the interest to say more. Where’s my wine? Oh. In my hand. (Sip)
He grins. “Six months, huh? That’s not long. I’ve known her for years.” He takes another painful puff, flicking it before it’s ready.
“Give me time. I’m sure I’ll know her longer than six months, soon. Maybe I’ll catch up to you.”
“Ha. That’s funny. What’s your name?” He holds out his hand, “I’m Mitch.”
I think ‘Mitch’ means Oh he of the agenda.
“Nicole.” I shake his hand, but it’s soft and limp. Oh man. Now any desire for his company – even conversation – is erased. But I like Marlena. I’m not going to be rude to her guest. I prepare myself for a torturous half-hour.
“Nicole. That’s pretty. I had a girlfriend named Nicole once. She broke my heart. You wouldn’t do that, would you?” He laughs and looks at me like we just shared a joke. I picture him living in the 1950’s, selling door-to-door insurance.
I raise my eyebrows simply because he won’t stop smiling. “No, I’m sure I wouldn’t do that.” Because I would never give you the chance.
He’s about to launch into another sales pitch when Amber and Jess save me by walking onto the balcony, sans boyfriends. I’ve never been happier to see them in my life.
“We have to talk to you,” they say at the same time, looking at poor Mitch like it’s time for him to go – so sorry.
To his credit, he almost doesn’t leave. I give him major points for standing up against these two. He looks at them as Jess threads her arm through Amber’s to form some sort of estrogen wall, and Jess gets this stupid smile on her face that makes me almost lose my shit, laughing.
“Uh… I’ll catch up with you later?” he asks just me, ignoring them.
I nod to the poor bastard and tell him, “Have a good night.” As soon as he leaves, I turn to Amber, because Jess’s face was laughable… while Amber’s was a disgrace. “Amber, that was horrible. Your face screamed, get the fuck out of here, buddy.”
They blow me off and we chat like old times, like when we were all single. I didn’t know I miss those days until right now. But I guess I do. When Jess leans over the balcony, Amber and I both yell at her, and it just feels like… home.
That is, until I pull out a fresh cigarette and Amber practically spits at me, “Why do you hate yourself?”
“Excuse me????”
Amber gets that look on her face that’s like a lock-jawed pitbull who won’t let go, no matter who’s telling her to. “You can’t love yourself and smoke those things, Nicole. And I saw you before, looking all distracted. It was because you wanted a cigarette, isn’t it? Tell me you’re not addicted.”
Damn. She saw that? And she always calls me Nico, so what’s with this ‘Nicole’ shit? I cross my arms and raise one eyebrow. “I’m not addicted. I just smoke these when I’m out. It’s a social thing.” I turn to Jess for help. “Jessica, can you believe the balls on this girl? What kind of person accuses someone of not loving herself?”
Amber blurts, “The kind who loves you! It’s called a friend. It hurts me to see you lighting up a cancer stick like it’s no big deal. I need you to stay alive, thank you very much.”
Jess offers, “That’s so sweet…?”
“I’m not feeling the sweetness,” I say, annoyed. Look, I beat myself up over these things enough on my own. I don’t need my girlfriend joining the line.
Jess doesn’t help me, though. She goes into how I can save money if I quit and how much they cost. As if I don’t know this! I’m not backing down to Amber this time, no matter how much Jess is playing middleman. I take a long Bette Davis drag of my cigarette and say in my smoothest, coolest voice, “And don’t think I didn’t notice you calling me ‘Ni-cole’ back then, like when a mom says your whole name because she’s pissed.”
Jess explodes into laughter. I nailed it. They both know I did.
Amber gets all huffy. “Another way to get your dopamine levels up is to have sex, NICOLE,” she says, like Game On!
I take another sexy drag and walk over the balcony and hold their attention with a nice long pause as I look over and assess the city below. Then I turn, hold her eyes. “I have plenty of sex. Sex…is not my problem.”
“She does have plenty of sex,” Jess nods from where she stands beside me.