After a year and a half of trying to move on from the what-ifs, the tides have pulled Alexandra Rivera and Zachariah Kim back together again.
*****
In the h...
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Nothing lifted my spirits quite like being surrounded by women.
The four of us somehow managed to fit into Emmie's bathroom. Even though it was large enough for a double vanity, with the extra bodies and excess of products, it was a tight squeeze.
"Kat, did you drink the rest of my dad's Patrón?"
"Yes," she replied without hesitation.
Emmie walked back into the room, lifting a glass of wine and letting the crimson liquid slip past her lips. "Every time he finds out you were over, he runs to the kitchen to see if all of his booze is gone."
"Maybe I'm being dramatic but I kind of want to call that slander? Alex took the last shot with me."
"I'll restock it before next Wednesday," I reassured her.
Jem was the first to finish getting ready and I followed soon after. While the other two continued getting ready, we sat on Emmie's bed with the remainder of our beverages—wine for me, apple juice for her—and a movie.
At some point, Jem turned to me.
"Did you need something?" I asked after a few beats of her not saying anything.
"You're glowing."
"I'm not pregnant, Jem."
She choked on her juice. "That's not what I meant! You seem happy, that's all."
"You're sweet," I told her, turning back to the movie. "But I feel like a toad right now so I apologize that I'm not able to fully accept it."
A comfortable silence carried on for a few moments. "I wanted to tell you something."
I set my wine down on the nightstand. "What's up?"
"I, uh, I might have applied to transfer."
I waited.
"To Georgetown," she explained.
"Oh shit," I muttered in disbelief. "Sorry, I don't mean that in a bad way but...oh shit. You did it."
Jem shied away from the bewilderment in my voice. Leave it to her to go out of her way to tell me something important and then look like she wanted to bolt right out of the room.
"I talked to one of my professors here and she convinced me to apply," she confessed. "One of her best friends teaches there and she thinks I'd fit right in. Plus, you know, that was one of my original options so—"
"That's great, Jem! I'm so proud of you."
"I hate that you won't be able to come over at eight at night just to have pizza pockets," she cried, the sound muffled by my sweater. "Or that we won't be able to have nights like this anymore. Who else am I supposed to complain about men with?"
I held her face up, a gentle grip on her chin to keep her in place. "The world will tell you a thousand ways just how much it thinks you're unworthy of giving yourself good things in life, but you need to tell the world it's full of shit. You'll find other people who treat you the way you deserve and you'll have no shortage of friends. Don't let the uncertainty stop you from making decisions you know will benefit you in the long run. Okay?"
