HAPPY | ✔

03.0 STICKING WITH IT

“So, you’re serious?”

“Yes, I'm serious.”

“One hundred percent positive?”

“Yes Julie,” I muttered exasperated.

As expected, the topic of William the pilot was dropped like a hot potato in favour of the first man I had ever brought to the table.

“And he’s meeting Odette tomorrow, as in Saturday. This Saturday.” Rissa restated, slowly, over and over again as if though the words were departing from her own lips, she could not hear them.

Emilia didn't seem too saddened by the abrupt subject change. She was far too engrossed in the matter at hand: squeezing every bit of information out of me like ink from an octopus.

William was a case to be revisited at a later date.

“Exactly how long have you know this guy?” Em pressed.

“A bit,” I squirmed.

“So you’re letting a man you’ve only know for a bit, meet your daughter... tomorrow... mere hours from now... Saturday.”

“Jesus Christ, yes Marissa!” I rubbed my face with my palms.

“Exactly how long is “a bit” Joy?” Emilia scooted her chair closer, as if a reduced proximity between our bodies would affect my response. She put her elbows on the table and braced forward like she was facing opposing council, nearly tipping the drinks off the edge with her splayed elbows.

“A while,” I grumbled with my eyes downcast.

Juliette snorted into her almost empty glass. She had stuck strictly to the vodka tonight, no chaser.

“A bit is a while,” she ribbed, can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before.”

“Where did you meet?”

“What does he do?”

“Have you had sex yet?”

“What did you say his name was again?”

Now I remember why I had never done this. The grilling was brutal. The questions never ceased and one was barely given a moment to breathe before you were barraged with the next round of inquires. Being on the receiving end for the first time was a arduous  experience. 

“Well?” Celia snapped.

I looked at her with blinking doe eyes, overwhelmed. “Huh?”

“Answer the question!” she pushed.

I tangled my fingers in loose curls at the back of my neck and scrapped my scalp. “Which one?”

“Oh don’t be a smart äss!” Em glared, “All of them.”

“Um, okay,”

Our table was a circular polished black top with a thin stem and a broad base- the definition of basic. The five of us were squashed around the limited circumference but I felt separate and apart though I could practically taste Cece’s shampoo whenever she swung her head my way, and mine and Julie’s thighs kissed beneath the table. There was a thick line separating the questioners from the questioned.

“We met at Sammy’s a couple blocks over. He’s into a bit of everything but mostly the stock market. Ah, yeah we’ve slept together,” I blushed, “once. And, um, his name is Daniel.”

They were quelled for only the moment it took to absorb the information.

“The stock market? Does that mean he’s well off then?”

“Was the sex any good?”

“How big is he?”

“Fück all that. What’s his last name? I'm googling him.”

Celia whipped out her Samsung Galaxy and pulled up the quick bar Google search engine, her fingers readied and posed to type.

“Well,” Em snapped her fingers in front of my face impatiently, “speak! Now is a good a time as any to stalk his Instagram.”

I was fücking sweating. Perspiration was escaping my pores by the bucket load. Little did they know that all except Emilia had already met the man, though none of them had had the chance to interact with him personally. After all he was sorta responsible for the construction site behind the C block that was set to become East Park’s new computer laboratory. They were going to kill me the second I said his last name. Their combined voices merged into an incessant buzzing I couldn’t escape.

“Joy.”

“Joy!” 

“JOYCE!”

“Maranzano okay! It’s Maranzano! Holy-fück! You want me to fücking spell it? M-A-R-A-N-Z-A-N-O. Is that all?! I can’t take the pressure! Shït I’m sweating.”

I slumped back into my chair like I had been thrown onto the furniture, fanning my face with my hands.

With laughing eyes Julie reached into one of her many pockets to offer me a dry napkin for my drenched brow. She was still in her scrubs: a blue patterned top with puppies and flowers and straight blue pants. I thanked her with grateful eyes. All the others on the table were drenched from the condensation on the glasses.

I tried to relieve her of the extended white square but her fingers held on, her air of playfulness fading.

“Maranzano,” her eyes narrowed as she thought hard, staring at me, “I know that name. I’m sure of it.”

“Well fück me side ways,” came the announcement, “You know the name alright Julie. As a matter of a fact, we all do,” CeCe said smugly before turning the screen to show her captive audience, “Presenting East Park High’s latest benefactor, Mr Daniel Maranzano.”

There was an audible gasp from Marissa. Juliette gave me a poisoning look, releasing the napkin so abruptly I collapsed back into my chair.

“Hot damn, that’s the stud that’s been throwing around all that cash? I take it back. I don’t need to know how good he is in bed. Just looking at him I know. He could sneeze on me and I’d come.”

Em regarded his photograph with  a sense of marvel usually allocated to men of the Chris Hemsworth calibre.

Celia turned to me with accusing eyes, “I’ll gladly speak for all of us when I say, talk. Everything. From the beginning, and don’t you dare leave a thing out.”

All I managed was a deep sigh. If this was the result of trying, I wasn’t sure if it was worth the effort.

Spotting a familiar face two tables down, I decided to spare myself a minute to breathe, “Waiter!”

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Next chapter we'll finally meet Odette. Thank you for reading.