Always the Last to Know (Always the Bridesmaid) (20 page)

BOOK: Always the Last to Know (Always the Bridesmaid)
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        “You are not right.”

       Riley smiles, “It only adds to my charm.”

       Dammit, it really does.

        “Did you go CD shopping by yourself?”

       I shake my head, puzzled, “No.  Matt and I went to the mall and decided to check out the new releases.”

       Riley clicks his tongue, “Isn’t CD shopping something that you and I should do together?”

        “We can’t shop for CDs together.  Everything I like, you hate and everything you like, I hate.”

       Riley shakes his head, “That’s not true.”  I raise an eyebrow at him.  “It’s not
entirely
true.  We both like Jimmy Eat World and Louie Armstrong and Johnny Cash and Queen.”

        “Wow, it’s like we’re meant to be together.”  I smart off, then immediately regret it.  Why am I unable to keep my mouth shut?  Geebus.

       Riley doesn’t seem to pick up on my inner panic attack, thankfully, and asks, “So, does Matt’s taste in music sucks as much as yours?”

        “What is your problem with Matt?  He’s been nothing but nice to you and you’ve been a complete asshole toward him since Day One.”

       Instead of looking at me, Riley picks at a hole on the knee of his jeans, “I don’t have a problem with Matt.  I have a problem with. . .”  He looks at me now, almost sad, “Nevermind.  I guess I just don’t want to jump on him like you do.”

       Oh, he wouldn’t mind if you did though, Callahan.

        “I don’t want to jump on him.  He and I are just friends, trust me.  I mean, he turned off “Only the Good Die Young” for crying out loud.”

       Riley snaps his fingers and points a finger at me excitedly, “Billy Joel!  We both like Billy Joel!”

       I drop my head into my palm.  Seriously, why do I find this at all attractive?  A week ago, this conversation would have had me wanting to hit Riley’s head against the wall.  And, now, I want to throw Riley against that wall and make out with him until our lips fall off.

       I wonder if all this is just a nasty side effect to that new multivitamin I started taking.

       We fall into a comfortable silence and just watch the night sky.  The radio is crooning out some old jazz song and I am certain that I could really sleep in my car tonight.  It’s just so peaceful.

       Or maybe that’s because Riley is here with me.

       Blech.  I hate myself.

        “Do you want to stay here tonight?”  Riley asks suddenly.

        “Huh?”  Yes, that’s how suave I am.  I say things like ‘huh’ with my mouth hanging open.  It’s a wonder I’m not drooling.

       Riley shifts around in his seat as he talks, “It’s just that you’re already here, it’s getting late. . .”

        “It’s 9:30, Riley.”

        “. . . and you’re going to start sleeping here anyway.  You may as well get used to it.”

       That’s not quite as romantic as I was hoping for.  I thought he might opt with a “You have to stay here because I can’t live without you.  I must have you now”, then we would have sex in the backseat of my car.

        “My bed isn’t here, Riley.  And your couch is like sleeping on death.”

        “You can sleep in my bed.”

       Wha… Really?  Did he just say that I can sleep with him?  Is God siding with me on something?  Is this my life’s happiness forming right here, right now in Riley’s driveway?

       No, of course not.  I know exactly what it is.

        “You’ve been watching zombie movies again, haven’t you?”

        “What?”  He scoffs, “No, I did not watch any zombie movies.”  I raise an eyebrow at him.  He throws his arms up in the air, “Fine.  The Sci-Fi channel was having a zombie movie marathon and I’ve been watching it since five o’clock today and I’m terrified.  Happy?”

       Well, it’s not a confession of love.  It’s just a harmless invite to a sleepover triggered by Riley’s irrational fear of brain-eating zombies.  This doesn’t mean anything to him.  But it’s something to me.

       I nod, “Yeah.  I am happy.”

 

Eleven

Thursday, July 2
nd

 

 

        “I am going to miss you so much!”

       I smile at Annie as I walk to my teller window, “I know, I’m going to miss you too.”

        “I got you a going-away gift.”  Annie tells me over her shoulder as she retrieves a large, bright pink binder from under the unused coat rack.

        “You didn’t have to get me anything.”  I give her a hug, thank the high Heavens that she isn’t giving me a sex toy, and take the binder out of her hands.  Opening to the first page, I look at her, “What is this?”

       She rolls her eyes, “You need this more than I thought you did.  This binder contains photocopies of what I think are the most important articles
Cosmo
has ever published, in regards to men and sex.”

       I flip through a few of the pages of sex positions and foreplay suggestions before closing the binder.  “I can honestly say this is the most unique gift I’ve ever received.”  I give her another hug, “I love it; thank you.”

        “You’re welcome.  I just thought that. . .”  She pulls away from me, but keeps her hands on my shoulders.  “You slept with a guy last night!”

        “What?  No I didn’t.”

       She takes a sniff of my hair, “You smell like aftershave and cheap soap.  You slept with someone.”

       I groan, annoyed.  “I just stayed at Riley’s last night.”

       It takes all of Annie’s strength not to squeal.  And even though she’s bouncing from foot to foot, she is doing a remarkable job of keeping a completely somber face, save for her drawn-up on eyebrows shooting up near her hairline.  I have to say, I’m quite impressed.

        “You slept with Riley?”

        “I slept
at
Riley’s.”

       She looks me up and down, “You were in his bed.”

        “The couch is really uncomfortable to sleep on.”

       Annie crosses her arms, “You and Riley shared a bed last night and nothing happened?”  I nod.  “You mean, you stayed on your side of the bed and he stayed on his side of the bed?”  I nod again.  She begins pacing in front of me, arms still crossed, “Nothing happened?  No kissing, no touching, no oral, no dry lovin’, no nothing?”

        “Nothing at all.”

        “Ew.” 

       I don’t know why she’s saying ‘ew’.  It was actually really nice sharing a bed with Riley last night.  When we had went to bed, we had stuck to our separate sides, and just laid there and talked until we were mumbling somewhat coherent words back and forth.  It was so comfortable.  Even though I had all this stuff going through my mind about Riley and how I felt about him, I was still comfortable laying across from him in the dark.  Even when I woke up in the morning to find his arm draped over me, not in a kung-fu grip like last time, I was still comfortable.  And completely in love with him.

       Annie leans against the counter, “I don’t get it.  You’re twenty-two and Riley’s, what, twenty-five?  You both are in your sexual prime.  And here you two are, sharing a bed with no action going on under the covers.”

       I shrug, “We’re not fifteen anymore; we can control ourselves.  Besides, it’s not like Riley wants to do anything with me, or to me, or for me anyway.”

       I meet Annie’s eyes and immediately give myself away.  She cocks her head to the side for a second before her eyes get wide and her smile brightens.

        “I knew it!  You love Riley!”

        “Annie, shh. . .”  I frantically look around the bank.  The lobby is empty and the woman running the drive-thru window looks at us for only a second before turning back to the customer waiting in their car.

       Annie places a hand, with nails painted fire-engine red – I wish I could pull off that color – on her hip and stares at me, “Well, do you love him?”

       I think about running away, just sprinting out the front door.  It’s my last day; what are they going to do?  Fire me?

       But I don’t run.  I can’t.

       I nod, “Yeah, I do love him.”

       Annie’s excitement is obvious but she is still doing well to act calm.  Her voice is still a little high pitched when she asks, “Does Riley know?”

        “No.  At least, I don’t think so.  I sure as hell haven’t told him, if that’s what you mean.”

       She nods, “Well, are you going to tell him?”

        “I don’t know what I’m going to do.  I’m kind of hoping that this feeling just goes away.  It’s Riley, and I shouldn’t feel like this.”

        “Why not?  You’ve grown up together.  You know all the good and bad things about each other.  And he’s your best friend.  Honey, people go their whole lives looking for someone to love, someone to love who is their best friend.  And here you are, pushing away what so many would kill for.”  She rubs my arm, “You can’t run away from something so great.”

       Leave it to Annie to be insightful.

        “So I have to tell him?”

        “You have to tell him.”

        “I know I have to tell him.”  I say as I lay my head down on the counter.  I mumble into the counter, “I’m just so afraid of his response.”

       If he doesn’t like me past a platonic level, then I will screw up the longest friendship either of us have ever had.

       If Riley loves me too, then I’ll have this fear of messing up.  Because, if I screw up, like I always do, then I lose my love, my best friend, and would have to move out.  Not that moving out compares with losing Riley or anything, I’m just looking at the big hypothetical picture here.

       And if I break up with her brother, Carla would hate me and would take away my godmother rights of little Madeline.  True that Carla and Evan haven’t given me title of godmother, nor have they taken into consideration any of the baby names that I have suggested, but still. . . I don’t want to lose my friendship with Carla and my pseudo niece or nephew all because Riley and I don’t work as a couple.

        “His response is going to be based on how you tell him.”  Annie explains.  “Do you know how you’re going to do that?”

        “Not at all.  I just know that it’s going to be after Carla’s wedding.”  I raise my head up and lean against the counter to fill Annie in on Carla’s need for attention on her wedding day, something that Annie seems to understand, having been a blushing bride at one point herself.

       Annie’s voice shoots up and she begins talking with her hands, “Okay, so here’s my idea.  You’re at Riley’s place and you two are sitting on the couch watching TV.  Out of nowhere, you straddle Riley’s hips and take off your shirt. . .”

        “I don’t think that’s the best way to go about it.”

       Annie smirks, “If there’s a topless girl on him, he won’t say ‘no’ to anything.”

        “So, I should just let my barely-there-may-as-well-be-concave boobs do the talking?”

        “God gave ‘em to you for a reason.”

        “I don’t think that’s the reason.”

       She rolls her eyes, “Do you want all this to end well?”

        “Yes.  But I don’t think flashing Riley is the best way to tell him that I love him.”

        “You love Riley?!”

       Shit.

       I turn around slowly to see Evan on the other side of the teller’s window.

       Double shit.

        “Evan.  Hi.”  I try to smile, but it’s incredibly hard to smile when you feel like you’re going to throw up, so I end up with some sort of grimace on my face.  Evan just stares at me, silent.  “Please don’t tell anyone.”

       He continues to stand there, quiet.  He doesn’t even grunt.

        “Okay, Evan, you need to say something.”

        “I need to make a withdrawal from my account.”  He looks down as he pulls his wallet from his back pocket.

        “Evan. . .”

        “Shit, Jess.  Why don’t you look around before saying stuff like that?”

       Wow, Evan and I have the same thought process.  Creepy.

        “I’m sorry, Evan.  It just slipped.”  I gasp, “You can’t tell Carla.  Or Riley!  Or anyone.  Except Matt.  Matt knows all about this.”

       Evan looks taken aback, but he has a look of amusement on his face.  “You expect me to keep a secret from my fiancée?”

       I put my head back on the counter, “I’m a terrible person, a horrible friend, and the worst Maid of Honor ever.”

       I can’t believe this.  Why in the hell couldn’t I have just taken a quick look across the lobby?  It would have taken all of a second.  Oh, I am so stupid.

        “It’s not like Carla doesn’t already know.”

       My head flies up, “What?”

        “Carla knows that you love Riley.  She’s known for years, even before you.”  Looking at my appalled face, he continues, “Don’t worry, Riley doesn’t know you love him.  He’s fucking clueless about it.”  He blushes, “Don’t tell Carla I dropped the F-bomb.”

        “Don’t tell Carla that I love her brother and we’ve got a deal.”

        “But she already knows that you love him.”

        “Which is why there’s no need to remind her.”  I smile the best presidential, shit-eating grin I can muster.

       Evan shakes his head, “I don’t know.  She’s my fiancée; I can’t lie to her.”

        “Really?”  I cross my arms and smile at him, “Then what really happened when you went on the Girls Gone Wild bus last spring break in Miami?”

        “You got yourself a deal.”  He shakes my hand.  “You and Riley are meant for each other, I swear to God.”

       I smile and get the money from his account.  He heads for the front door to leave, but stops to turn around and smile at me.

        “By the way, telling Riley that you love him by flashing him would totally work.”

        “Are you serious?”

        “How do you think Carla got me to stop putting my feet on the coffee table?”  He laughs at my appalled face and walks out of the bank.

       What the hell?

 

***

 

        “Why are you sitting in your closet crying?”  I ask Carla after following the sound of her crying to find her tucked in between a suitcase and a pink pair of Jessica Simpson sling-backs with a tissue crumpled in her hand.

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