When It All Goes Wrong Again

I’m a loner. I admit it.

I’m not the girl you see out clubbing every weekend. I’m not dating a different guy every month; in fact, I don’t date at all. I spend most of my free time alone and the only people who have my phone numbers in L.A. are my boss Joel and the receptionist Maggie. I have never had anyone to my house; I discourage any attempt to do so.

Now, before you get the wrong idea, I’m not completely anti-social. It’s not like I hide out in my home, windows barred, shotgun ready, hunkering down to outlast the apocalypse. No matter what my best friend Zach says, I do have fun. Maybe it’s not the ‘let’s go hang out with a million people and see what exciting thing will happen tonight’ kind of fun anymore, but who really needs that? I’m a simple girl with few needs, and if my co-workers tease me about someday turning into that crazy cat lady up the street, fine by me. It would never happen. I’m more of a dog person.

I just like my space. There’s nothing wrong with that. Anymore, crowds freak me out. Strangers make me nervous. Chitchat is tedious. It’s not uncommon or even odd to keep your private life private. Not everyone shares all the little details of their lives. I choose to believe that there is still something to be said for mystery.

With this always in mind, sometimes I still surprise myself. As I was leaving work, I offhandedly mentioned the party I was invited to that night to Maggie. I’m not really sure what possessed me, maybe I was just making small talk, maybe it was the need to prove that I, too, could have a life if I wanted.

“That’s exciting A.J.,” she said after I told her about my afternoon. “What are you going to wear? Do you want to come shopping with me after work?”

“What?” I asked, honestly confused.

“Well, you are going, aren’t you?”

“Of course I’m not going! Fraternizing with the clients is strictly forbidden,” I told her, looking at her as if she had a screw loose. “Besides, I’m not going to spend my night with a bunch of strangers.”

Maggie leaned over her desk and said seriously, “One, they’ll only stay strangers if you don’t get to know them. Two, from what you’ve told me, you’re already pretty tight with that Pete guy. And three, there is no rule saying we can’t hang out with clients. You made that up.”

She was right and I knew it. That didn’t mean I had to give in. “Okay, you win, I’m wrong. My mother would be so proud that you got me to admit that.” I took the open scheduling book off her desk and flipped it to Saturday morning. “The real reason I’m not going is because I’m responsible. I have an 8 AM call tomorrow.” She ripped the book from my hands while I resisted the childish urge to stick out my tongue and say so there.

It was at this moment that boss man Joel decided to leave for the day. “Ladies, I hope you’re not planning on hanging around here all night. Everything’s done, go home! It’s Friday, you two need to go out on the town.”

Maggie’s eyes lit up suspiciously. “What a coincidence, Joel. A.J. was just telling me about this party she was invited to tonight. It’s a shame, really, that she can’t go.”

“Is that so? Did you make other plans, babe?” Joel asked, his full attention now on me.

“No,” I mumbled, “I’ve got an early call tomorrow.”

“Nonsense,” he declared, “we can’t have that. Matt or Tanya can cover for you, they both mentioned that they wanted more hours.”

“It’s no big deal, really.”

“You’re right, it’s not. Maggie, call Matt and see if he’ll cover for A.J.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and looked at me kindly. “Don’t think that I’ve forgotten about your ruined day off. Consider this repayment. Let loose and have some fun, babe.” With that said, he grabbed his briefcase and was out the door, shouting over his shoulder, “I expect a full report on Monday morning! Have a nice weekend!”

Maggie was tidying her desk, a self-satisfied smirk playing across her lips. “Smugness is not attractive,” I said a little rudely as I picked up my bag and walked out the door.

“Make sure to tell all your new friends I said hi!” she called as I slammed the door behind me.

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My car was parked behind several others in Pete’s driveway, the slight ticking of the cooling engine long since gone. The glow from the clock turned the skin on my arm a strange green color and I watched as yet another minute flashed by. I had been sitting here for a half-hour, afraid to go in, afraid to leave. Every window was lit up like the Fourth of July and from the sound of it the party was in full swing. I think I would’ve given just about anything to back out and drive home. The thought of all those eyes on me if I got up the courage to leave my car made me queasy.

“God, what is wrong with me,” I groaned, resting my head on the steering wheel. “Why can’t I be normal and want to have fun?”

Suddenly, the sounds of the party got louder. I looked up and saw a figure coming outside, a happy partygoer without a care in the world. This figure walked to the car in front of mine and, after unlocking it, started digging through the center console. Holding a CD up triumphantly, a streetlight passed across the grinning face. It was Pete. I slid down in my seat, telling myself that if he didn’t see me it was a sign and I could leave.

Wishful thinking, I know.

“A.J.? Finally, you’re here!” he cried as he opened my door. Grabbing my hand, he pulled me into what was, on my part, an awkward hug – one arm around my shoulders, the other on the small of my back, the CD pressed tightly against it. My arms remained by my side, something he must’ve chosen to ignore. “Patrick kept telling me to give up but I told him no, she said she’d call but now you’re here and I’m so glad!” he rambled nonsensically, linking his arm with mine and leading me to the house full of strange people. He continued talking, catching me up on the nights’ occurrences, but I only zoned him out. With each step, my breathing quickened and my head felt lighter. I could almost feel myself rising out of my body, you know, that dreamy, this-can’t-be-real feeling. Kind of like you’re watching your life happen to someone else.

Before I knew it, we were on the porch, Pete’s hand reaching for the doorknob, and I cried, “Wait!” He paused and looked back at me. My hands were starting to shake and I clasped them together tightly, sighing softly as I said, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I wasn’t a party person. I know it sounds hypocritical considering my job, but strangers kind of freak me out. Especially in large numbers.” My hands became very fascinating; I wasn’t in the habit of admitting my faults to people.

Pete tilted my head up with his finger, forcing me to make eye contact. “It’s not a party, I promise. Seriously, there’s only like ten people here.” He looked at me with such concern it made something in my chest ache a little. “If it makes you feel better, I won’t leave your side. And if you still feel uneasy, I swear, you can go.”

Damn, what was it about this guy that made me want to leave my comfort zone? “Fine,” I said a little shakily, “just don’t expect me to do any table dancing.”

He chuckled and opened the door. “I wouldn’t dream of it. You know,” he said, stopping mid-step, “you’ve met about thirty percent of the group, so they’re not all strangers.”

“How can you know that?”

“Well, that’s me, Pat and Hem, so there will be some friendly faces.” He went in, taking my hand when my feet still refused to budge. We walked down the dark hallway, bright light shining at the end, music and voices drifting around us. We emerged as if from a cave, Pete calling loudly, “Hey everybody…”