ROWAN BASS
Urth Caffé is bursting with people, despite the early afternoon hour on a weekday. I'm lucky that I managed to get a spot outside in the perfect September weather, but even so, I'm still overstimulated by all the conversations happening around me.
The two girls in their athleisure to my right, sipping green juice, seem to be catching up on drama within their friend group. The two men in front of me, dressed in polos and slacks, are talking business. The couple behind me is planning their trip to Santorini.
Meanwhile, I'm trying to distract myself by checking my business numbers on my phone and taking slow breaths. Sienna is supposed to be meeting me any second now, and I have no idea how the hell our conversation is going to go after the other night. All I do know is that I'm not going to roll over for her this time.
And here she comes, wearing high-rise black leggings and a matching spandex bra top. Her blonde extensions are pulled back in a slicked-back ponytail, and she has the whole "no-makeup-makeup" look going on. She looks stunning, like always.
"Hi, Row," she uses her sweet voice as she sits across from me.
"Hey," I don't reciprocate with a raised pitch in my tone. "How are you doing?"
She sighs like she's the goddamn president of the United States, or like the fate of all humankind is in the palm of her hand. "Well, Grant and I made up."
I'm not even remotely surprised, and I know my expression shows it. "That's good. Are you happy about that?"
"Yeah, I mean he said he was really drunk when it happened, so I understood."
Christ.
"Okay, well...as long as you're happy," I drop my phone in my purse. "Do you know what you want? I can go order for us."
"Yeah, just the kale salad and an iced tea," she relaxes back into her chair, pulling her phone out to start scrolling.
I head inside to stand in line, holding my arms over my chest as I study the menu behind the register. All the words start to jumble and fade in my gaze as I zone out, only for the woman behind me to politely tell me that it's my turn to order.
"Oh, sorry," I take two big steps forward. "Can I please have the kale salad with an iced tea, and...the tuna sandwich on rye bread, please?"
"Sure! Did you want salad or fries on the side?"
"Fries, please," I dig my wallet out, "and a side of fruit as well."
She tells me the outlandish total for the most basic order, and I hand over my card for her to swipe through the reader. "Would you like the receipt?"
"No, thank you," I take the number for our order and make my way back to the table with Sienna to wait. It takes her almost an entire minute to notice that I'm sitting there as she looks up from her phone.
"So what's new with you?" She asks.
I don't know where to start, or how. I feel as though I should wait for our food to arrive before bringing up everything that I'm upset about, but now also feels like the time to do it if she's asking me.
"Sienna, there are a lot of things that I wanted to talk to you about. A lot of things that have been bothering me."
She rolls her eyes with a little smile. "Is this about the other night when I walked in on whatever you and the hot neighbor were about to do?"
"That," I nod, almost grateful that she gave me such a perfect example. "I don't appreciate you making assumptions about me and Harry, or about me in general. I hate it, actually."
Her smirk starts to fade. "Are you kidding? I can't tell."
"I'm not kidding," I scoot my chair in closer to the table. "I don't understand why you have to make everything about sex when you know that isn't me."
She blinks a few times, clearly confused. "Well actually, I don't know that, Rowan. You never talk to me about shit like that anymore. Or ever."
"That's because it's not happening, Sienna," I try to keep my tone level, without as much malice as I'm feeling. "Believe me when I say that I'm not just living some kind of double life and keeping it from you. I'm not having sex with Harry or with anyone else for that matter."
"Okay," she shrugs with a head shake like she is annoyed now. "So that's why you're mad at me? Because I tease you about him?"
"No, I'm mad at you because-"
"Kale salad?" The server asks.
"That's hers, thank you," I acknowledge her when Sienna doesn't even glance in her direction.
"And the tuna with fries and a fruit cup," she grins.
"Thank you," I force another smile, turning to Sienna as she crosses her arms and pouts. "Are you not going to eat?"
"No, I think I'd like to hear the list of all the reasons why you hate me first."
"I don't hate you, Sienna," I correct her. "But I'm angry for the way you read Harry's journal, and I'm angry at you for setting me up on that date when you had to have known that Joe wasn't my type, and for literally pushing me into him for a second time, and for making fun of me at your party. And I'm angry that you didn't show up for my bakery opening. And I'm angry at you for showing up at my door in tears, just to insult me in front of my friend."
"Okay, well maybe I'm angry at you, did you ever think of that?"
I exhale in disappointment, knowing there's no way she actually absorbed anything I just said. "What are you angry at me for?"
She takes a minute to think about it, then sits forward with her forearms on the table. "I'm mad that you didn't even try to have fun on that date, or at my party. I'm mad that you cussed me out on my birthday, and that you never called to apologize when you seriously ruined my whole night. And I'm mad that you didn't have any sympathy for me when I came to your house the other night. You just wanted to make me look stupid in front of Harry."
"Sienna," I pinch my eyes closed, a habit I picked up from my dad when he's frustrated. "I wasn't about to pretend to have fun on a date with a pretentious misogynist, and I wasn't about to pretend to have fun at your party after being condescending to me and practically screaming out private information about my life to all your friends. I never called to apologize because I was still angry, and you didn't seem to be too bothered about it when you let me walk out. And the other night? You're angry because I told you how it is. I didn't sugarcoat it for you, or immediately jump to defend you when you were in the wrong. I'm not sorry for telling you the truth."
"You have no idea what I'm even going through," she deflects once again.
"Maybe that's true, but you're not even listening to me right now. You're not even acknowledging anything that I'm saying."
"Yeah, because it's all bullshit," she scoffs. "You're just embarrassed, that's where this is all coming from."
"You-" I stop myself when I hear my voice raise. "You embarrassed me. That's my whole point."
When she starts to smirk, that's when I know I'm in trouble. She thinks she's about to win this argument, and she's probably right.
"You know what your problem is, Rowan? You've been so goddamn sheltered for your entire, perfect little spoiled life. Instead of going on dates, you have Sunday dinners with your mommy and daddy. Instead of having sex, you yell at men for having opinions that don't match yours and storm off like a pretentious bitch yourself. It's no wonder I'm your only friend with how socially awkward and incapable of having a conversation you are. And I know you think you're hot shit because of your bakery and whatever, but it's fucking pathetic, and the only reason you even have it is because of your dad. You make cupcakes for a living, Rowan. At least I'm out there living a real life, and going home to a man that doesn't have four legs and a tail."
