Tulips

making friends.

I've seen enough films to know that the first step to getting over anybody is talking with your best friend. 

In grade school, I had a huge crush on Nathan Patel. We'd run up and down the streets of South Staffordshire, weaving in and out of the steel grades that held the local electro-plant's bulbs into place. Sometimes we'd sneak into the old locked up coal factory near our house. I never liked it but if you couldn't keep up, Nathan would call you a coward and you'd be forced to prove your loyalty. He led me and Suzanne into a lot of trouble, but back then I admired him for it. 

We were wandering around the outside of an ancient coal processing plant when I had suggested it. 

"Why can't I be the princess?" I asked, standing on top of a pile of coal.

"Because you're the bad guy," Nathan said with determination. He pretend battled with an invisible monster at the foot of the pile of coal.

"I always play the bad guy! Why can't Suz' be the bad guy?"

Then he said it, "Because Suzanne's prettier and you're always the bad guy," and that was that. I spent the afternoon crying into Suzanne's yellow-blue quilt and the night cuddled under my own covers.

I haven't talked to either of them in years. Not since I started working.

Despite the few days off, I could tell I was getting restless. There was only so much cleaning, reorganizing, and practicing one could do. My underused contact book had been left open on the same page for a few days now and my second-guessing nature was finally exhausted. Nervously gripping the phone, I bit the bullet and called Claire.

In a lot of films, when the protagonist gets her heart broken, you'll see her huddling around her girlfriends in silky pajamas. Donning lime-green face masks, everyone will gossip and give each other pep talks while eating chocolate ice cream straight from the carton. 

I buttoned my nice coat up and stepped out of the underground railway car. Hopefully I can get the same thing at a busy coffee shop, I thought to myself.

Outside the terminal, I examined the shop's address for the tenth time. Even my handwriting looked nervous.

I'd been trying to figure out over the past few days whether or not Claire and I were really that close. I mean, she's always been friendly and welcoming, but that seemed like it was a part of her personality. 

Plus, I only know her because of Nathan, I thought glumly. She is as much of a friend to him than she is to me.

My heel caught on a risen cobblestone and I briskly caught myself from tripping. Blushing, I sped up my pace. 

All she said was "How is Nathan doing these days?" and it all came out. 

All six months of it.

Once I had finished, I was surprised the emotional garbage that came out of my mouth hadn't tainted my chocolate eclair and turned the tea cold. In fact, the hip London shop was just as buzzing as before.

"I can't believe he just disappeared like that!" Claire huffed angrily as she clanked her cup of coffee down onto the café's table for effect. The long pendant necklace swung lightly, attracting more than one wandering eye, but not for the same reasons. "I always thought he was too absorbed in his literature and fancy club! I hope you're not waiting for him."

"Well, I mean, I'm not expecting him to just show up again," I said, slightly sad. "He's been gone for too long to come back."

Claire crossed her arms, skeptical. "But you still hope he shows up."

I stared down at the loose tea leaves at the bottom of my cup. Oh god, maybe I shouldn't have told her.

Claire sighed, sipping her teacup wisely, "Trust me. As spectacular of a magician he is, he wasn't a great boyfriend. If he can't meet your needs, then it isn't meant to be."

I rubbed my arm. "I mean, I don't hate him. I just- I want to know why." 

Realizing how tense I was, I leaned back into my chair and rubbed my tired shoulders. I poured us each a new cup of tea.

"Anyways, I've been focusing on my career in the past couple of months."

"I noticed!" Claire said mid pastry bite. "Everyone was talking about your article in the paper. The usual gossip: Who is she? How could they feature her over me? Is she single?"

I could feel myself scrunch my nose at that last one.

"I want to be officially recognized by the Hoffhand Magic Society, but I have no idea where to go or how to even start."

Claire snorted, "No kidding. There's not a single magician in that snobby place that'll accept an apprentice that's gotten more press time then their sorry old ass, nethertheless a lady."

"I know!" I groaned.

"Well, if it helps, I do know this one guy." 

She reached into her cleavage and pulled out a small leather pocket book. "I met him briefly at a dinner party a few nights ago. He tried to hit on me and it turns out he's a certified magician! Which is weird because - well, you know my profession."

"Con artist?" I teased.

"Opportunist," Claire tsk-ed. She pulled out a small card.

"His name is Marcus Weiss. He was gentlemanly enough when I told him I wasn't interested, so maybe you can find out how he went around the society's strict system because I'm sure he didn't have a classical education... if you know what I mean." 

Claire stuffed the pocket book back into her bra and opened her pendant necklace. Reflected rainbows wavered on the ceiling.

"Well, I need to start getting prepped," she said as she stood up. 

I stood up as well.

"Thank you for meeting up with me," I shyly said. 

"Of course. We're friends! Next time, you better call me sooner."

I could feel a happy blush creep onto my face, "I will."

"I'll be watching out for you," Claire smiled as she walked away.

I tucked the card into my coat pocket and smiled to myself.

I guess I don't need chocolate ice cream after all.