Tonight, Not Again

For the past several weeks, Kate had suddenly been a hell of a lot more interested in me than she was when we were dating. My answering machine was plagued with her voicemails and I could hardly delete her text messages fast enough. She wanted to meet me for lunch, or meet at the club—anywhere where it seemed right for us to “get back together”. She said she missed me. And for a second, I believed her.
We’d been invited, albeit separately, to one of those “Young Hollywood” parties thrown by some magazine. I’d considered not going at all, because that was Kate’s planned “reuniting” point, but I didn’t want any bad press. I thought that if Zoey came with me, Kate would leave me alone—not that I wouldn’t have wanted to take Zoey just to be with her. I knew if Zoey was with me, Kate wouldn’t even faze me. I wouldn’t be able to see anyone other than Zoey. It was the perfect solution.

…

“Me?” Zoey blinked, adjusting herself beside me.
“No.” I rolled my eyes. “That pillow right there. Of course you. Do you want to go with me?”
Zoey rolled onto her back and folded her arms behind her head. She sighed, shifting her eyes from the ceiling to me—it wasn’t a hard question. Her dark brows furrowed, as if she was really mulling it over. If she took any longer, I was going to shake the damn answer out of her.

But what if she didn’t want to go? What if, to her, being my date for a [very] public party meant that we were dating? I’d forgotten that what I felt for her hadn’t necessarily been reciprocated.

“Sure.” Zoey interrupted my frantic thoughts. “I’d love to!”
“Uh.” I temporarily lost my ability to speak. Or think. “Great. Er, are you sure? You, uh, don’t—”
“Rob!” Zoey grabbed my chin and pulled my face in front of hers. “I want to go.”
“OK.”
“Well, it’s at the end of the month…I know it’s a little early.” I prattled on, most likely swaying her decision. “But I, uh, I was just invited so I wanted to ask…”
“Where is it at?”
“Well, that’s the thing.” Zoey’s picture would be posted everywhere—what if she changed her mind? “It’s kind of like, oh I don’t know how to describe it. You know when you see those pictures of um, well…people like me…at parties and crap?”
“People like you?” She covered her mouth to hide a chuckle.
“You know what I mean. It’s like a ‘Hollywood’ thing.”
“Is there a dress code?” Zoey looked at me earnestly and I laughed.
“That’s what you’re concerned about?” Smiling, I rested flat on my back. Zoey could show up in a paper bag for all I cared—at least she hadn’t turned me down.
“What am I supposed to wear, Rob?” Zoey poked my arm, laughing a little. “Why is that such a dumb question?”
“It’s not a dumb question. Wear whatever you want to wear.”
“I have to go shopping.”