My Escapade

“Hey girl, who’s your flavor of the week this time? Oh he must be pretty nice, but I wouldn’t be surprised when sweet turned into sour.” My cell phone blared out Stephen Jerzak’s “Party Girl”, set by my best friend Diana, who loved to steal my phone and change my ringtones for her. “Yeah?” I answered, walking down the sidewalk to the subway.

“Yeah? Well how about, ‘YEAH’, ‘cause I got some kick-ass news!” Diana yelled into the phone.

I rolled my eyes. I loved Diana to death. She had been the first person to befriend me in the big, bad city, but the girl was legitimately loco. “No, we’re not going to buy a boat. Nor are we going to go skydiving for my birthday.”

I could practically hear her pout. “But… but…” I heard her huff. “Oh! Wait! That’s not even why I called!”

“Nor are we throwing your brother’s bachelor party. He has guy friends for that, who probably have better connections to strippers than you do,” I said sternly.

Diana giggled. “I doubt that.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, Di, why the random call?”

“Oh! Right! So, you know how we’ve been having problems finding a band for the wedding?”

Even though it wasn’t really a problem. Diana’s family was filthy rich, so the wedding was well taken care of. Ethan, Di’s brother, was getting married to Emily, a friend of ours. The “problem” was really just Ethan trying to find a band that his bride-to-be found suitable. “Yeah?”

“Well, we’ve got one!”

“Who?”

“The Escapade.”

I tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. “Woah, what?”

“Yeah! Isn’t it great?” she gushed.

I blew a stray red hair out of my eyes. “No, Diana, it isn’t. You know why.”

“Well,” she whined, “I just thought it’d be a good way to get you guys—”

“No!” I snapped, cutting her off. “Was this your idea?”

The guilty silence on the other end confirmed that yes, it had been.

“I’m not going to the wedding, then.”

“What?!” Di shrieked. “Dude, you’re one of the bridesmaids!”

“So? You are, too. She’ll be okay.”

“No, Ro, she won’t, and you know it. Em has a natural ‘pissed off’ mood when something doesn’t go her way—not to insinuate that she’s a brat, of course, but… she’s Bridezilla, for God’s sake! She’ll eat me!” If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve said Diana was crying a little.

I then suffered through five long minutes of her begging me to go to the wedding as I rode the subway, three minutes of which I held my phone by my side. When I finally put it back up to my ear, I snapped, “Fine. I’ll go.”

Diana then proceeded to yell out how much she loved me.

“Alright, Di, I’m at the office,” I told her as I approached the building.

“Alright, alright. Catch you at the dinner tonight!” She then hung up.

I stood in front of the building and heaved out a sigh. I shoved my phone into my purse and walked up the steps. The office was located on the 7th floor. Once I arrived, I was called into a meeting. I had been interning for a while, so I had slowly been getting actual articles to write.

“Hey, Rory!” Ethan, Di’s brother, greeted me with a hug. Diana and I had met when she came to bring Ethan lunch because she had lost some random bet. The first thing she blurted when she saw me was, “Woah. Who’s the tomato head? Never mind, she looks too cool to be a veggie. Ketchup head, then. Tastier, but more fattening.”

You see why we’re friends.

“Hey. Excited for tonight?” I asked as I settled myself into the chair of the conference room.

Ethan shrugged and sat beside me. “I would be, but Emily…” He shook his head and sighed. “I can’t wait for it to be over so she can be normal again.”

I laughed upon seeing the over-exaggerated anguish in his face. “Bridezilla still on a rampage?”

“Don’t even get me started on that. If she even hears the term Bridezilla, she lashes out. I now have a mental reflex to that word.”

I laughed just as my boss, Mr. Cranford, walked in and called everyone to order. Mr. Cranford was an amazing man. He had a head full of white hair, but he was still witty and sharp for an old man. He wore a suit, like he wore every day. As he stood there, he fiddled with the wedding band on his finger, the aftermath of losing his lovely wife to cancer years before. “We need something new. I am sick of the ‘deeply revealing’ articles on our government. We still need some entertainment, too. I need ideas, people.”

Everyone away or cleared their throat awkwardly.

“That is our problem, people! No new ideas! I mean, you guys are just dried up little fruits, that’s what!”

“I’m not a fruit,” Ethan muttered.

“What’s that, Mr. Wallace?” Mr. Cranford snapped.

Ethan looked up. “Um, I was merely pointing out that we seem to be having a dry spell due to lack of entertainment from the outside. If there’s nothing going on, there’s nothing to write about.”

“Nice save,” I murmured.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

Mr. Cranford cocked his head to the side. “Good point, Wallace. But you’re still a fruit.”

Laughter erupted from the employees, but people quickly smothered them when Mr. Cranford turned an eye on them. “Give me an idea, then you can laugh, chuckleheads.”

“So,” Ethan whispered. “Looking forward to seeing your rockstar tonight?”

I rolled my eyes, trying not to encourage talking. Ethan must’ve been that kid in high school who got markers thrown at him by teachers for talking.

“Come on,” Ethan said a little louder. “He’s gonna see you, and be like, ‘Woah. She’s hot.’ And then you can get with him. Or show him what he missed out on and break his heart.”

“There’s an idea!” Mr. Cranford cried, making me jump.

“W—what?” I stammered.

Ethan grinned, like it had been his plan all along. “Isn’t it, though?”

I looked back and forth between Mr. Cranford and Ethan in horror. “You can’t be serious.”

Ethan grinned excitedly. “And if he doesn’t recognize you? All the better!”

“Walker!” Mr. Cranford yelled, making me jump again.

“Sir?” I asked tentatively.

“Fill in the details in my office in ten minutes. This could be a front-page story.”