Wendy and Josh Are Just Friends

Wendy reached for the bottle of cabernet sauvignon. The fireplace roared, sending a glow through the rest of the room. But Wendy was still cold. She poured her second glass of the night, setting the bottle down on the abstract art book that was less a book and more a very large wine coaster. Her knuckles came away white. Flexing her hand, Wendy took a sip, the red wine coating her throat. She sighed and glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was barely 10. She'd spent the whole night trying to convince herself she wasn't lonely. It wasn't working.

It was funny. At first. Josh, who ate religiously at Wendy's, and Wendy, who showed up to frat parties and football tailgates with a bottle of Josh cabernet sauvignon tucked on her hip. The odd couple around campus. But strictly not a couple, rather, best friends that everyone thought should date. Josh and Wendy, Wendy and Josh. The two of them against the world. Until one day, Wendy was alone again.

She picked up the bottle again and flipped it around to look at the label. In college, her best friends called her room, "The Josh Wine Cellar." It was a joke that became more and more true as college wore on, much to the dismay of Wendy's parents. She had all of the birthday cards Josh made her in a shoebox shoved somewhere deep in her closet. Six years of meticulously peeled off Josh wine labels, the descriptions whited out and rewritten. "Our Cabernet Sauvignon was the first wine we ever had together." it read in Josh's shaky cursive. That was for the year they became best friends. The year Wendy finally knew what it meant, what it felt like to have someone unconditionally on her side.

During their spring semester junior year, Wendy was studying 18th century British literature at Oxford (again, much to her parents' dismay) and Josh was eating his way across Asia carrying nothing but a backpack, before hunkering down at law school. Wendy was certain the tradition would fizzle, what with being on opposite sides of the world. Wendy spent that April 14th wandering the city alone. She went to a cafe for lunch with a friend, but didn't bother mentioning it was her birthday. They weren't close, and besides, her friend wasn't Josh. In her mind, he was the only one her birthday really mattered to. She Skyped her parents, who wished her a happy birthday from Ohio. And then she changed into pajamas and fuzzy socks and settled in for a night alone with a large glass of wine and CSI reruns. So, maybe it wasn't her most memorable birthday. It wasn't her worst either.

At 9:30 that night, there was a knock at her apartment door. Against better judgment and every Youtube crash course on living abroad alone as a woman in her early 20s, Wendy cracked the door ajar and peaked out. A guy roughly her age, in sweats and sneakers stood awkwardly in the hallway, holding up a bottle of Josh cabernet sauvignon. He barely said a word as he handed her the bottle and shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweats. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to tip him? What was the procedure when a stranger shows up at the door of your study abroad apartment with a bottle of wine that isn't even sold in the country? Wendy's Youtube videos had not covered this topic.

She thanked him and gingerly closed the door, bringing the bottle of wine into the little kitchenette to examine under better lighting. At first glance, it looked like a standard bottle of Josh wine. But upon closer inspection Wendy noticed the bottle was a different color entirely. Lighter and a little more opaque than her beloved Josh. She scanned the label. The edges were torn and a little jagged, as though someone had ripped it off and then reattached it. It wasn't an original Josh wine. It was Josh Abroad. She took a closer look at the label. "A wine that is bold and expressive but unassuming, and approachable. It's funny how these characteristics seem to remind me of someone that I know. It's a wine I made for my friend, a girl I call Wendy," it read.

The last line was fully crossed out and rewritten, in a looping print that she knew immediately was not Josh's. But the words were all his. There was a little card taped on the bottom. "I'm sorry this isn't Josh, and I'm sorry the human Josh isn't there to share it with you. But I hope this does the trick. All my love, Your Human Best Friend Josh." Wendy slept better that night than she had all semester. Maybe it was the wine, but she liked to think it was because she knew that even across an ocean, her best friend was still right beside her.