“No, he was never mine. And these things in life happen for a reason. Don’t look back and regret, move forward and appreciate what you have now. You are beautiful, successful and have one hot man dying to be yours.”
“Maybe, but we are just friends. We never had the chance to be just that so here we are seven years later working our way backwards.”
“Charlie, you guys are meant to be. The sooner you see that, the quicker you can live your life…with him,” she held onto my hand as she said it.
“Samantha, I need time to process everything. It’s been seven years since he was last in my life and a lot has happened since then. We need to get to know each other again. We aren’t the same people we were back then.”
“I understand. But you know you
got yourself a good man. Don’t forget that.”
We chatted a little while longer before saying goodbye. I decided to spend the afternoon shopping alone, quality time with myself. I was in Bloomingdales with an armful of dresses when my cell beeped.
I’ve got somewhere special I’d like to take you for dinner tonight.
I felt like an overexcited school girl reading the text. The butterflies came out, ready to attack every part of my body.
Sounds lovely… dress code?
He responded almost immediately, making me burst out into giggles and causing the surrounding people to turn and look at me. Embarrassed, I headed to the change room.
If we weren’t just friends I would say nothing BUT I am a firm believer of sticking to the rules so I would say something dressy perhaps. I’ll pick you up at seven.
I tried to think of something witty to say but everything I had in mind was dirty and that only leads to one thing so I responded nice and simple telling him I was looking forward to it.
I smiled as I sent the last text. There was no doubt I would wear the red dress. It was a V-neck dress that flared out just below my waist. It came with a thin black belt. It was perfect. I decided to wear it with my patent leather Louboutin peep-toe heels. I tried my best to keep the girls in place; I mean seriously, they were out for show. Since when did they get so damn big? Obviously the hidden stash of candy in my desk was not helping.
I rushed home and decided to call Eric. I needed a final opinion and there was no one better than Mr. Fashionista himself.
“Hey Charlie, what’s up in ya hood?”
“Are we back to talking gangsta again?”
“I just watched a documentary on Tupac and how they think he is still alive so to answer your question, yes, for tonight.”
“I’ve kinda got a dinner thing tonight. Need your opinion on my outfit.”
“Be there in ten,” he hung up without saying goodbye.
Exactly ten minutes later: “Charlie, you are one hot chica. If I wasn’t gay I would do a number on that lady garden of yours.”
“Um thank you… I guess. Have you ever even been with a girl?”
“Once, in high school. It was my denial stage. I kept telling everyone I was saving myself for Madonna and there was this one chick at school who kept teasing me so to shut her up I told her I wasn’t and to prove it I would fuck her. She was the town bike; everyone had a ride. We were in her bed kissing and shit which I could handle because I could just imagine Johnny Depp, but then I went straight for her cooch. I mean what the hell did I know about foreplay with a woman? Anyway, as soon as I put my hand there and felt her flaps, I screamed like a girl and got the hell out of there.”
“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be laughing… but the flaps… oh dear God, Eric.” I held onto my stomach because I couldn’t breathe from the laughing fit and I’m sure I leaked a little pee.
“Well I had to come out then and THANK GOD! Cuz wet folds make the snakey say bye bye.”
“OMG Eric. Wet folds? Please stop.”
“So tell me: Lex or Julian?”
My breath evened out as he asked the question. Should I lie? No, he was one of my best friends so there was no point hiding it. “Lex. We have decided to be friends.”
“Uh huh, so that’s why the ladies are out for show?”
“They wouldn’t stay in!”