One More Time (Bremmy 1)

Chapterish 39

Two peppermint-eggnog-jingle bell wannabe lattés later and the conversation is still on NYE. The men (I'm feeling generous calling them that) have all confirmed via text. Doesn't take much to convince a bunch of twenty-something's with virtually no money to book a last-minute trip that's less than two weeks away. Relatable, I know. What are we millennials good for if not having absolutely zero responsibility and even less will power?

Still, couldn't help but smile as my glittering Internet box buzzed against the table.

NYE?!

What else don't I kno?

Can I pick U up now ;)

Damn word travels around this friend group fast AF. Proud to say I don't respond. Not now at least. Not while Meg and Trix are in such a debacle.

"So Vail? What's it like. You ever been before, Em?"

"Yes, I have." I shake my head. "But it was years ago. I just remember it was cold."

"Cold. Right. Could have guessed that."

"The guys want to stay for two nights. Trav says we can ski while we're there!" Trix exclaims, showing us her chat with Travis.

"Sure. Man I haven't skied in years," I laugh.

"What do we wear?" Meg wonders, of course that's what she cares about.

"Jacket and pants. Boots. Skis tend to help." I sip my drink.

"Smartass. I mean what do we wear to a roaring '20s party?" She scrunches up her nose.

"Evening gowns? Fancy flapper dresses?" Trix suggests.

"Birdcage veils and pearls?" I offer.

They drone on. I let them. My mind has its own things to obsess over.

My phone buzzes again. This time I don't have the will power to not answer.

Pick U up?

...

No! Trix dropping off. I'm sad just typing it.

...

Deck Party at Back Bay? Travis posts in the group thread.

Trix is kind enough to stop at my house so I can change from my airplane outfit. I get a weird feeling when I see the old Christmas lights illuminating my front lawn. I haven't seen them in years –haven't seen my house at the holidays for years.

Like I found most things to be here, they're the same. It's the same three metal reindeers grazing under the same bright white star above our front door. They distract me enough.

No time to give myself a private fashion show tonight. Trix flings herself across my bed and starts unwrapping a mint she took from the café. Meg sits in the chair at my old desk. She grabs the picture of the three of us from high school graduation.

"Oh my godddd," she laughs. "Look at my trash bangs!"

"Trash bangs?" I raise my eyebrows. "Trash everything."

Trix looks over her shoulder, mint between her teeth. "Yup. Not a pretty pic."

"It's classic!" I laugh. "Plus I need a good laugh when I come back here."

"Glad we're good for comedic relief," Trix says.

"Me too." I smirk. Trix throws a pillow at me.

"Good reminder that tie-dye dresses are never a good idea." Meg puts the photo back on my desk.

"Weren't in 2010 either," I laugh.

I heave my suitcase onto my bed and let it flop open onto Trix's legs.

"Lucky I brought casual clothes," I say.

"Yea, can't wear this to Back Bay." Meg holds up my now unfolded dress. The Black Friday dress for the benefit.

"Hey, hang that for me, will you? I need to steam it tomorrow," I say, throwing Meg the hanger from my sweater.

First time in eight years this bad boy is coming out of my closet. Up to the big leagues. Man, it used to be a go-to staple. A weird maroon/wine color with mock neck and bell sleeves –just as I remember it. I pull it over my head and it somehow fits better than before.

"Trix, toss me those jeans." I nod to the folded denim on the top of my suitcase pile.

"Love these!" She frisbees them to me.

"Thanks. New and on sale." I slip them up over my legs and peek in the mirror. Two words: Bell. Bottoms.

Is it just me or is the whole 70s-making-a-comeback thing really starting to catch on? Is it just me or is it great? I mean, the twenty-teens are as useless as an umbrella on a sunny day. Or condoms to a virgin. Nothing is original anymore.

My hair has seen better days. The curls are more like pathetic waves now, but hey. The snow made it pretty wet looking, but it's nothing some powder can't temporarily fix. Really bringing out the dirty blonde.

"K, ready." I grab my bag and lead them to the door.

"Finally," Meg says.

"I just sat on a plane for hours today. Give me a break! That was literally record time." I roll my eyes.

"Yes, you're a great speed demon. Let's go!" Trix moves in between us.

"Bye mom!" I shout from the hallway.

"Have fun! Don't be too late!" I hear her before the door slams behind us.

Fuck it's cold.

"Who wants to have a deck party in this?" I say, watching my breath spiral away from me.

"Seriously. I don't care how many bonfires he lights. I'm not standing outside," Trix agrees.

"Maybe if you two wore coats," Meg scoffs.

"Excuse us, these are coats. Cute ones," Trix sighs, jabbing at Meg's giant quilted down jacket.

"Yea," I laugh. "Sorry our fashion hasn't died yet."

Trix snorts with laughter. Meg rolls her eyes. "Jokes on you, I'm the only one dressed for walking."

"Don't remind me," I whine to Meg as Trix shoots me a look. "I c-can't believe I let you talk m-me into walking."

"You live like THREE blocks from Travis. Don't be such a baby."

"Three LONG blocks," I say through clenched teeth.

"Three blocks is a leisurely stroll to me and my coat," Meg says, pulling up her hood.

"Shut up!" Trix and I scream at the same time.