One More Time (Bremmy 1)

Chapterish 89

SIX

MONTHS

LATER

...

| NEW YORK CITY |

NEW YEAR'S EVE

7:51 PM

"Our rezy is at 8:00 and we have blocks to go. Come on!" Trix yells from in front of me.

"Trix, it's one block over. Quit running." I roll my eyes by habit, even though I know she can't see them.

Her eyes are focused on a hazy sign down the street, a sign I can barely make out through all the neon lights and traffic signals. The snow-sleet shit doesn't help. I pull my pea coat tighter around me. It's so fucking cold. Look at this dumb idiot wearing a skirt. Me. I'm the idiot.

Thank god for oversized scarfs.

The millennial in me knows going out and spending money on overpriced drinks in a place I don't actually want to be is more worthwhile than staying home, wrapped in my pajamas and counting down the seconds on my couch.

Instead, I'm wearing my favorite ivory sweater and a black leather skirt with boots. I cut my hair short again. Easier for yoga. It doesn't need much work now to maintain its natural wave. I applied the appropriately thick layer of make up to my pale face and I was ready to go. If I'm lucky my fake face will help me score. It's what we secretly all hope, right? Fucking right.

I remember as I'm chasing Trix down the last crowded block why I never come to New York City. Let alone on New Years Eve. But Trix insisted. It's been six months and she still wouldn't let me be alone.

Travis moved into the city at the end of the summer for some new job he got. YAS. Was all I could think when Trix told me. He got out of the sad town. Anyway Trix tries to visit him as often as she can, but she won't make the move herself. Secretly, I think she's hoping NYC is not a permanent thing.

Trix is still working at the boutique. And Meg is still at the bank, Nate still at the school and Alex still sleeping beneath BLINK 182 and trying to make it as an artist. Brooks –who knows? Brooks –who cares? I expect working on an Edge bikini line with her.

At least I got to tell Trix about Go Zen #2. The second studio opened just before Halloween. It's across the city, in a less hipster area but it's all good. Even fancy uptight housewives enjoy their yoga and iced coffee. Zoë even managed to find a pseudo/B-list celebrity to endorse us. Promoted us on social media and everything.

We also developed a line of zen oils, yoga mats made from recycled waste, and because I need to trend: totes. Basically, Zoë and I are quite fine, thank you very much. We won't be selling Edge Apparel any time soon, though.

My parents flew me to London for Christmas. It was my first time there and I enjoyed the hype. Didn't get to live out my adolescent Love Actually dream. But it was OK. Anyway, they extended their trip to after NYE. I was not about to third-wheel my parents to ring in the New Year. I also didn't want to risk going back to Seattle and running into Trevor. The two of us have always had a weird habit of ending up at the same bar at closing time, on holidays. No thanks.

That's when I ended up (against my better judgment) asking Trix about plans. I know. I KNOW. Actively making plans, disgusting right? Who am I? But for some reason when I landed at the airport back in Murica it felt weird not being with her on New Years.

Felt weird not being with them all. I missed Trix's warmth and Meg's laid-back chill presence. Missed Travis's minty smell and Alex's infectious laugh. Missed them all.

I wonder what they're all doing tonight. It's just Trix and Travis in NYC, but she insisted I third-wheel her. Well, her and Travis are the lesser of two evils.

"Emmy Lou!" She turns to me, her hair whipping her face as she does. Even in sleet she looks good.

"Hey, you made it." Travis says when we get there. He's waiting outside the door smoking a cig. He looks so hipster. So NYC.

"I did. Thanks for taking me in. I was sick of feeling homeless," I joke.

"No problem," he laughs, catching his tongue ring between his teeth. "Trix has a thing for strays."

"Must be why she dates you," I smirk.

8:01 PM

We sit at a fancy table and almost immediately the maître d' brings over the wine list. I glance at it and am reminded of a similar wine list, of a cool blue light, and martinis rimmed with fairy dust.

East coast Corbel Finn.

Of course.

What kind of sign is this, universe? It's already New Years Eve and as if that didn't make it BAD ENOUGH, yes let's add more things that remind me of him.

"So? Which?" Travis is looking at me.

Focus, Em.

"Sorry, what?" I ask.

"Wine, red or white?" Travis asks again, looking over the edge of the menu.

"Whatever you're getting," I shrug.

I won't turn away any wine. Not tonight.

"I'm SO glad you came," Trix smiles. And I know she means it. I know she's glad that –after everything –I haven't disappeared. I haven't retreated to the safe confines of the west coast.

"Of course I came." I smile back. "It's New Years."

"Second in a row–" She clasps her hand over her mouth like she's just said something dirty. Her face scrunches up like she tastes something rotten.

I realize in that moment how ridiculous it is. How ridiculous I am. Is this how far I've come? People are afraid to talk around me? People are walking on eggshells balanced on jagged rocks. Each rock a memory of him.

"It's OK," I laugh. Strained, but still a laugh. "Second in a row."

"We should make it a thing," Trix says, regrouping back to her old cheery self.

"Like tent night?" I ask her, raising my eyebrows and raising my glass.

"Yes. Like traditional tent night. The three of us on New Years."

"I'm in," Travis says, picking up his wine glass.

"Me too. I vow to always third-wheel your New Years Eve plans," I say and take a sip from my glass. "What's everyone else doing tonight anyway?"

"Well, Meg and Nate took a trip actually. Mexico I think, with Meg's family," Trix says, rolling her eyes.

"Alex is at home with whoever he's dating now," Travis says. "Couldn't tell you what he's doing. And Brooks, I think he's in Florida maybe? That hotel?"

"Oh, yea," I mumble, bringing my glass to my lips.