In Another Life

I’m consciously aware of the beads of sweat sliding down my neck and dripping down my back as I rush across the busy intersection. The humidity is overwhelming and suffocating. Just when I feel as if I’m about to pass out, Gilberts comes into view and I hasten my steps.

Pushing open the door, I nearly wilt from the freezing blast of cold air that hits me full force and for a few seconds, I just stand happily before I realize that I’m letting out all of the air conditioning. So I step inside and push my sunglasses up into my hair as I wait for my eyes to adjust to the dim pub lighting.

I wave at Tasha, who’s working behind the counter at the moment, before I scan the dining area for my friends. I spy Jeanette’s shiny red hair and I start forward, careful of the tables’ corners and the jumble of mismatched chairs that crowd the tiny room. More than once, I have nicked my hip on the sharp edges as I’ve walked past and I can’t say that I enjoy the bruises that nearly always form afterwards.

“There you are,” Jeanette scoots over, sliding her drink along with her. “I was just wondering when you were going to get here.”

I make an apologetic face and hang my bag on the hook outside of the booth. “Sorry, I had to stop and speak to Professor Harris about scheduling an interview with Victoria Parks—the internship coordinator at the gallery,” I answer Jeanette’s unasked question without missing a beat. “And so after that, I was on my way but then Mel called.”

Raina perks up upon hearing the familiar name. Melissa is the owner of the store that we both work at and she’s been quite testy the past couple of weeks. “What did she want?”

Tasha appears at this moment, carrying a glass of water and a glass Coca-Cola bottle. She sets both in front of me and shoots me a stern look. “Drink the water before you even think about having that soda. You’re dehydrated from walking in this heat and water’ll do you good.”

“Why, Tasha,” I exclaim as I accept the glass of water first. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you cared about me!”

The usually gruff waitress manages to crack a smile before she rolls her eyes. “Yeah well, don’t go getting big heads just because you don’t get on my last nerve.” But she watches me closely as I take a small sip, the ice coming forward and knocking against my lips. “That better be gone by the time I come back.”

I nod obediently before she turns away and marches back to the kitchen. Once she’s out of earshot, Raina leans forward and pokes me in the arm. “What did Mel want?”

“Harrods is opening a personal shopping department,” I say simply, placing my water down on a napkin and running my fingertips across the condensation idly. “Some of our clients have already switched over.”

Amanda gasps, looking horrified. “Why would they do that? You guys know what you’re doing—you’ve been the only store using personal shoppers for-for years!”

“I know,” I shrug grimly. “She said she doesn’t think that it’s going to be too big of a deal. She just wants to step things up a bit. Be more approachable and helpful.”

Raina crumples up her napkin and throws it down on the table in disgust. “That’s absurd. You know how to do your job.”

I glance over and see Tasha eyeing me pointedly from behind the bar, so I take another hasty gulp of my water before I answer. “I know. But she just wanted to give me a heads up. I guess this just means that I’ll have to pick up a few more hours at the store. So my clients don’t have to work around my school schedule,” I explain, waving my hand absentmindedly.

Amanda immediately looks worried. She places her elbow on the table and cups her chin. “Can you do that with your coursework? I mean, uni isn’t easy and you work enough as it is. Plus, you have this internship—”

“I’ll be fine,” I insist as I take yet another drink. I won’t admit it, but Tasha was right. The water tastes so much more better then I’m sure soda would right now. “Finals are coming up, so after those, I won’t have to worry about coursework anymore. I’ll be free until September at least. Then I’ll only have to balance work and who says I’m even going to get the internship?”

Manda doesn’t look convinced, but she nods, knowing better then to press on any further. “As long as you think you’re up for it—I just don’t want you to overdo it.”

“I’ll be fine,” I reply as Tasha appears at our table with a steaming platter of fries, our usual appetizer order. She knows the routine by now, so she puts the plate in the center of the table before she puts two dipping cups of Gilbert’s signature sauce in front of me and ketchup and ranch on the table for Jeanette and Raina. “Oh hey, Tasha, can you bring me a martini, please? Uhm, better make it dirty.”

She nods and trots away dutifully before I turn back to the table. All three of my friends are staring at me like I’m crazy and I already know what they’re thinking. I don’t drink martinis. I can’t stand the bitterness of vermouth, because it’s too far dry for my tastes.

“I guess now would be an appropriate time to announce that Liv is on her way,” I announce quietly and then wince as Jeanette groans loudly. “Hey, she’s not that bad. Phil is busy tonight and she didn’t have anything else to do. And I haven’t seen her in ages.”

“That’s fine,” Amanda, always the peacemaker, smiles. “Liv is welcome any time.”

I focus on Jeanette, the only member of the group who truly does not get along with my cousin. “I promise that she’ll be on her best behavior, so you have to be, as well. And afterwards, I’m sure she’d be more than happy to have her driver take you home. So promise—”

“Fine,” She interrupts me, grumbling slightly. “But only because I want you to agree to something else in exchange.”

Suddenly feeling a bit leery of her deal, I study her innocent face closely. The last time I blindly agreed to one of Jeanette’s ideas, I ended up getting 13 stitches in my foot in A&E because I stepped on some glass and sliced open my heel.

“That depends on what it is,” I say slowly, finishing off my water and pushing the glass away.

Jeanette glances over at Raina, who nods encouragingly. Even Amanda doesn’t look surprised. Is everyone else in on this but me? “We want you to come to Camber Sands with us for a little holiday.”

“That’s it?” I laugh, relief ballooning up in my chest. I had been worried that it would be something absolutely ridiculous and nonsensical. “You want me to go to the beach with you?”

Raina nods eagerly. “It’ll be like a celebration for completing all of our exams and we can stay the weekend. There’s this sweet little cottage right on the beach. We can drive up early afternoon on Friday and return Monday or whatever. We all deserve a break; let’s get out of London for a few days.”

“Okay,” I agree easily. “That sounds like fun.” I reach for a fry and dunk it in my sauce.

Jeanette highfives Raina happily and then claps her hands. “I told you she’d go for it. Who doesn’t love a good vacation?”

“Honestly, you’re acting like I never agree to do anything fun,” I laugh, shaking my head. “When do you want to go?”

“Two weeks from now,” Amanda answers, ignoring the other two girls celebrating in the booth. “On the 20th of June, does that sound okay?”

I nod, looking over as the door of the pub opens and a familiar dark-haired girl steps through. She pulls off her Prada sunglasses and looks around herself. I wave and catch her attention. Olivia grins widely when she sees me and starts forward, her heels clicking loudly on the warped wooden floor.

Beside me, Jeanette exhales deeply and I elbow her in the ribs as Liv pulls up a chair and sits on the outskirts of the table. “Hey, everyone,” She greets the table politely, hooking her Gucci bag over the back of her seat. “Thanks for letting me crash your dinner.”

Amanda smiles widely as Tasha brings over the cocktail I ordered. “It’s no problem, Liv. How’ve you been lately?”

I relax as Amanda does her best to make Olivia feel welcome in our group. After Tasha takes our dinner orders, Raina asks Liv a question about her bag and the rest of the awkwardness disappears completely. The rest of our meal is spent sharing laughs and gossip until our group regretfully breaks up for the evening.



“You don’t care?” Liv asks, yawning widely as I unlock my front door. "That I stay the night, I mean."

I shake my head, pushing open the red door and dropping my keys back into my bag. “No, you’re fine. I’m just going to do some studying—I have finals next week and I want to get a head start on revising.”

My cousin makes a disgusted face at my words before she lurches forward. “Fuck, I almost tripped on your bloody mail. Who leaves it sitting in the middle of the foyer?”

I glance down at the small pile of mail and shrug. “Perhaps the mailmen when he dropped it through the mail slot.”

“Well, it’s in the way,” She grumbles, gathering it up and handing it to me. “I could have died.”

I laugh at her dramatics as I enter the kitchen and quickly start to sort through my post. “You would not have died. Stumbled forward and possibly cut your face open on something, maybe. But you wouldn’t have died.”

“You’re such a prat,” Her voice floats into the kitchen and I have to laugh, since I know she’s only teasing.

I throw away the junk mail before I drop the bills in my basket and flick uninterestedly through a catalogue for a department store in Kensington. I go over all of the designer clothes and accessories idly, since I know that there’s no way in hell I’ll ever be able to afford them. They’re still nice to look at though.

By the time I finish with the magazine, I can hear the television playing some trashy reality show that I know Liv has a slight obsession with, so I push the glossy pages away and start for my bedroom so I can get out of my school clothes and into something a little more comfortable.

As I walk, I realize that there still hasn’t been any sign of Harry in a couple weeks. I had last seen him at the wedding and that was nearly two and a half weeks ago. He’d definitely said that we’d see each other again soon. The last time he said that, I had a wedding invitation in the mail only a few days later. And now, now I’ve gone weeks without anything from him.

Maybe he’s forgotten about me. Or he’s found someone else to occupy his attention. Someone who isn’t so clueless about all of the things he has to do. A girl who he can bring to all of his public events and not have to worry about her screwing things up.

I know that I don’t have any stake or claim on Harry. I know he has a bit of a reputation as being a huge flirt in the media. Maybe that’s all he was doing with me. He was just flirting innocently and I’m reading way too much into things.

I shake my head as I close my bedroom door behind me and toe off my shoes. I’m over-thinking things again. He kissed me! Surely that means something. Granted, it was on the cheek, but it was still something. I hadn’t instigated anything in any way.

He’d said that we’d see each other again soon. I just have to trust him.

I put my shoes back in my wardrobe before I pull off my shirt and throw it in the hamper. As I wriggle out of my shorts, I make a disgruntled noise in the back of my throat. I know that I have to be patient, that he has other things to do then spend all of his time planning ways for us to be together. But god, I’m getting edgy. I just want to see him again.

As I pull on a soft cotton tanktop and a pair of sweats, I resolve not to think anymore of Harry. At least until my finals are over.

Actually, it’s a good thing that he hasn’t contacted me, I decide abruptly. Because I already know that I’d go no matter where he asked me to show up and I can’t concentrate wholly on my studies if I’m busy appearing at random social events.

I throw myself onto my bed and then rummage through my schoolbag for my art theory textbook. As I open up to the last chapter I’d studied, I uncap my highlighter and exhale noisily. This is a good thing; I just have to calm down. And if Harry doesn’t ever try to talk to me again, then it’s whatever. It’s not like we’re in love. I’ll be fine.

But as soon as I think those words, I already realize that I’m lying to myself. It’s too late for me to even try to pretend that I’m not emotionally invested in this relationship—in this thing that Harry and I have going on between us. Because I already know that I’m in pretty deep. I won’t be able to back out of this without ending up hurt.

For some reason, this doesn’t upset me, like it normally would, had it been any other boy. Instead, I find the smile on my face deepening as I recall his dancing blue eyes and his vivid red hair and the way his smile is almost always crooked. His accent is far more posh then mine is, but it doesn’t seem to matter to him that I can be difficult to understand at times. That I sound a bit like Captain Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean when I start to slip back into my Essex accent. He’s always teasing and smiling and I love that about a guy. I adore someone who can have a proper sense of humor about things.

And then there’s the way I always feel comfortable with him. There’s not any large amount of that awkwardness that normally accompanies meeting someone new. I may second-guess myself at times and over-analyze my words and actions, but I have a very strong feeling that no matter what, Harry isn’t going to care.

A girlish blush creeps up the back of my neck as I remember the way we danced at the wedding. I had felt so amazing being that close to him. And yes, I had been a bit intimidated and worried, but all of that had disappeared so quickly.

“Bry?”

I jump, startled back into reality, and I slam my textbook shut hastily before I realize that I hadn’t been doing anything wrong. Guiltily, I open my book back up before I clear my throat and look up. “Yes?”

“Are you alright?” Liv laughs, coming further into my bedroom. She’s wearing a pair of my yoga pants and an old sweatshirt from grammar school. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you jump that high.”

“You just startled me,” I explain, trying to tone down the redness in my cheeks. But the smirk on my cousin’s face tells me that I’m not succeeding very well. “I-I’m fine, I was daydreaming.”

She sits down on the edge of my mattress and crosses her legs childishly. “About what?”

“Nothing in particular,” I shrug, capping my highlighter and resting it in the groove of the text. “Just things, you know?”

She studies me closely for a minute before she shakes her head. “Was it a boy?”

My heart leaps up into my throat and I choke attractively, clutching at my throat as I struggle to breathe again properly. “Wh-what?! No, no, of course not. You know I don’t have time to meet any guys. I-I’m far too busy,” I finish up sternly, as if the very idea of a meeting a boy was offensive to me.

But if that boy happens to be a prince…

I bite down on my lower lip, furious that my brain’s decided it would be hilarious to put inappropriate thoughts in my head when I’m trying to have a serious conversation.

Laughing a bit, Olivia shakes her head. “If you say so, kid. I just came in to ask you if you cared if I open that bottle of wine in the fridge.”

“I think it is open,” I tell her, busying myself with making a big show out of uncapping my pen and tapping it impatiently against my text. “I think Amanda opened it the last time she was here.”

“Fair enough. Fancy a glass?” She asks, standing up and straightening out her borrowed pants. When I shake my head, she shrugs and starts for the door. “Suit yourself. Have fun studying.”

“Yeah,” I say weakly as the door shuts quietly behind her. “Yeah, I will.”