In the Company

I couldn’t help but smile at my best friend. I wasn’t sure what exactly was going on with her and Bray, but they did make one hell of a cute couple. They walked down the street a few feet in front of me, Taylor leading the way. I had Tyler and Max on either of my sides with Pat and Claude behind us.

I’d taken the low road and chosen to ignore both of them since that morning’s comment and while I was embarrassed about it, I was too proud to do anything.

“Eh, Rose?” Tyler poked me.

Instinctively, I stuck an arm out, getting him in the stomach. “What?”

Tyler grunted. “I said, you haven’t heard from David lately, right?”

“Oh,” I sighed. “Not douche bag David anymore?” I did not want to have this conversation.

Tyler gave me a look. He clearly wasn’t pleased. “Have you?”

I was acutely aware of the curly haired blonde that was listening in from behind, but I did what I could to ignore it.

“No,” my voice was quiet. “I haven’t.”

Getting to an upscale looking restaurant, Taylor led the way inside, but Claude pulled me back.

“We’ll only be a second,” he nodded to Patrick who gave us an odd look.

“What’s up, Claude?” I asked, biting back any acidity in voice.

“You know what,” he said. “I just…I’m sorry about what happened before…at the office.” Claude breathed deeply. “I thought it was a joke.”

I smiled, letting the corners of my mouth pull up. “I get that now. I would say that I’m sorry that I went off on you, but I’m not. You deserved it.”

He nodded, almost laughing. “Trust me, I know I did.”

“But hey,” I poked him. “I’d say you’re making progress.”

He smiled. “All thanks to you and Ryleigh’s hard work. We’re all getting…better. Is that the word for it?”

I sighed. “You weren’t bad, per se…” my voice trailed off.

Claude laughed. “Yeah, sure.” He hesitated. “But listen, about Pat…”

“Claude-,” I sighed.

“Give him a chance,” he continued. “You’d be good for him; better than you know.”

“But shouldn’t I be worrying about myself first?” my voice was sharper than I’d intended. “Before I start thinking about being good for someone else?”

Claude didn’t know how to respond. “I-I… sorry?”

I groaned. “Don’t apologize. I’m the one that should be sorry. I’m just… acting stupid.” I shook my head side to side, clearing my mind. “I’m hungry.”

Claude looked over my shoulder, glancing through the window to the restaurant. “We should probably go in there. Before Pat pops a blood vessel.”

Claude brushed past me to hold the door and I got my first look at Pat. Indeed he was staring and just before our eyes locked, his face was screwed up, frustrated. Huh.

I shuffled towards the huge booth where our group was situated and sighed at the seating arrangements. Ryleigh and Bray were being cute in the corner by the window with Taylor and Max next to them. Tyler was on the far end opposite them with Patrick.

With Claude nudging me forward, I slid into the booth, unsure of where to place myself. Was I sitting too close?

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Stop it,” Tyler whacked my hand away from his plate. “Get your own fries.”

“But then I’ll eat the whole thing and feel guilty,” I pouted.

“Steal Patty-Cake’s,” he gestured to Patrick’s empty seat and half full plate.

“My what?” he asked as both Claude and I moved so he could slide in.

I spoke up before Tyler could. “Just your, uh, fries.” Lame. What was going on with me?

“Oh,” Pat said as we all settled ourselves back into our seats. “Here.” He nudged the plate towards me.

I smiled, trying to relax. “Thanks.”

“So, Rose,” Max asked. “Have you heard from your mother lately?”

I shook my head. “She’s been… busy with the doctors. Her treatments make her tired so it’s hard to get ahold of her sometimes.”

“How is she?” Patrick’s voice was low.

“Same as last time, I guess,” I sighed. “Sometimes, no news is good news.”

Taking me by surprise, Pat took my hand briefly under the table, giving it a comforting squeeze. He didn’t look at me, but it said a lot.

It was enough.

*~*~*~*~*~*

“I get why, don’t get me wrong,” Ry called to me as we piled into the apartment after dinner, just the two of us. “I just think you should make your move.”

“You know,” I dropped my bag to the ground and whipped around to face her, pointing my finger. “You seem to be giving me the same advice over and over again. And it’s not helping me in the least!” I cursed in Spanish.

Ry looked at me, surprised. It was a rare occasion for me to get heated enough to go off on my best friend like that. I regretted it, of course, but everything about the whole Patrick situation was getting to be too much for me. I was fed up with it.

“Well then,” Ryleigh shifted her weight onto her heels.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed. “I just… It’s a lot.”

She nodded. “I know. And I doubt I’m being much help. But I do honestly think you should make your move. And soon, before it’s too late.” Her phone went off and I instantly knew it was Brayden, judging by the sappy smile that spread across her face. Soon enough, just after she’d texted back, her phone rung again, going longer.

She glanced at me, unsure whether to take the call. I smiled at her, albeit a bit bitterly. But I was happy for her.

“Go on,” I nodded. “Take it. I’m going to for a walk. I’ll bring back ice cream from Donner’s.”

She said her thanks quietly before shutting herself in her room. I made a quick change, pulling on a pair of cutoffs, the Boston tshirt from Tyler, and flip flops before heading out the door. The night was warm still and people were out and about.

The organic grocer that Ryleigh and I rarely shopped at was a little bit of a trek, but it would do me good to spend time alone and maybe clear up some of my fuzzy thoughts. Sometimes, a girl needs expensive, ‘healthy’ ice cream.

It took me a little while to find what I wanted, and after wandering around, I found myself getting colder. Standing in the freezer aisle after meandering awhile, I stared at the multiple cases of ice cream options. What to get?

“Rosaline?” a voice asked and I groaned.

Not here. Not now. Just…no.

Whipping open the nearest freezer, I grabbed a pint of vanilla and one of dark chocolate, dropping them into my basket.

“Rosaline,” this time, a hand was placed on my elbow, holding me in place.

“Let go,” I said, keeping my voice even. “I have nothing to say to you, David.”

“Please, Rosaline,” his voice was begging. “I need to explain myself. I-,” but he was cut off by a new male voice.

“There you are, Rosie,” it was Patrick. “I was wondering where you were, babe.”

Instantly, David dropped my arm and I felt Patrick put his own around my waist, drawing me close.

“Oh,” my ex-boyfriend’s eyes were almost suspicious, unsure of what to believe.

I myself was a little shocked. Either Patrick was drunk again, or he was my savior. And a large part of me was assuming it was the latter, judging by his breath as he pressed his lips to my temple.

“Can I help you?” Patrick growled at David.

“I was just speaking with Rosaline,” he put up a tough front- a load of bull shit coming from him.

“And I think she asked you to leave her alone,” Patrick said, rubbing his hand on my hip. “And I think it’s best you did just that.”

I stood there, speechless, watching David nod curtly to me, turn on his heel, and walk away. It wasn’t until he was long gone that I came to my senses.

“You-you…” okay, so maybe I didn’t exactly come to my senses.

“Thought I’d repay a favor,” he smiled, letting me go. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, still a little shocked. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing,” Patrick assured me, looking at my basket that I still carried in the crook of my arm. “Here, let me get that.”

Still unable to do much more than gawk at my client, I let him take my groceries.

“A beautiful woman shouldn’t have to pay for her ice cream,” he smiled. Why was he in such a good mood?

“Wait a second!” I said, calling him back to me.

He turned, waiting, as I caught up to him. “Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. “I mean, after today. I was-I was a childish…bitch. And you’re being all…chivalrous.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he cocked his head. “And you weren’t a bitch. G was just…trying to be cool.”

“But still,” I sighed, crossing my arms. “Why?”

“I’ve learned a lot this summer,” Patrick smiled down at me. “And one thing is that a single moment or action doesn’t define a person.”

With that, he turned, walking towards the register.

“And you know,” he said, turning back around. “You might look good in that tshirt,” a cocky grin spread across his face. “But you’d look better with my number on your back.”