Until Alex

CHAPTER FOUR: THE FIRST DATE

Avoiding Alex, as I discovered over the forthcoming days, was not working. Cutting him off from my life was even worse than our regular morning routines. Not seeing him for the past nine days made me miss him like crazy. All my life, I’ve had the sensation that something had been missing – something which I could never put my hands on, but now it seemed that he was the only one capable of making me feel whole.

I had tried everything to replace that void inside, but nothing proved to be anything more than a temporary fix. Until I conjured Alex’s laughter in my lovesick mind.

It made me feel warm inside. The really fuzzy warm kind. It made the loneliness that was permanently etched inside my chest ease up. And I could feel myself breathe life – feel things which I believed were forever forbidden.

And those decadent feelings scared me. So much that I wanted to run from them until they got lost into the nada, especially when Alex would be horrified to discover my insane crush on him which would in turn leave me mortified to death.

So, I gave it my best shot. I steered clear away from Loulou for one whole week, switched off my mobile after my rampant departure from our last encounter, even stayed cocooned at home to circumvent any chance encounter with Tiff or Alex.

My ingenuities, apart from rendering me more obsessed with Alex, also turned me into a completely miserable slouch. There I was sitting on my couch endlessly popping popcorn in my mouth, binge watching another episode of The Blacklist on my Netflix, my latest initiative to put a certain hot guy out of my mind.

Binge eating and excessive exercise hadn’t worked. I had even tried to jog while reciting Tom Cruise’s name, but Alex’s face came cropping into my mind.

Needless to say that I jumped out of my skin when somebody practically landed on my bucket sending the corns flying in every direction over my pristine living room.

“What the hell…?” I began aggressively only to be confronted with a smirking rather-pleased-with-herself Tiffany.

“Hey butterfly,” she greeted chirpily increasing my foul mood even more with her buoyancy. “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror recently?”

I frowned at her, not appreciating that the austere action turned ridiculous when my glasses slid down the bridge of my nose due to the oily nature of my skin. My shoulder-length jet-black hair, when not properly dried after being washed also tended to reach the arch nemesis of any hair goals – that is the tendency to go super greasy.

In a nutshell, I looked like a total mess, not remotely like the fashion diva who fearlessly faced the phalanx of cameras on social appearances. And I did not give a damn. Silently, I resumed popping popcorns into my mouth, ignoring my bestie, not really wanting to talk in case I might blurt out the real reason of my grumpiness. But I should have known better than to expect Tiffany to take a hint and leave me alone to wallow in my misery.

In dichotomy, she snuggled closer and began imitating my action until I cast aside the bucket to stare at her fiercely.

“What’s wrong with you Tiff?” I grumbled with my mouth upturned with self-disgust.

“What’s wrong with me?” she reiterated in an exasperated voice, emphasizing on the last word to give me a clear indication that I had gotten that part completely wrong. “What’s wrong with you, you mean. You’ve turned into a hermit. I’ve been trying to call you for daaaays.”

I sighed belligerently. “Did you need anything?” I asked in my cool b***h-like voice, the one I used as an armor whenever I felt too cornered.

“Uggggggh! Will you stop it?” Tiffany cried out distastefully, being used to me retreating into my shell whenever something affected me colossally. Not that she bothered to dig around the issue. No, for that it would take her to genuinely care for me, which she did not. All she was interested in me was having a pair of non-judgmental ears in which she could rant about how miserable her life was.

I sighed again. My bad mood was definitely not improving.

“Alright,” I muttered in a small voice, quenching down the irrational hope that for once she would behave differently and asked me instead what was wrong with me with real concern. Wishful thinking. “I’m sorry I was just not in the mood for company lately. So, tell me what’s up?” I cheered up with a totally fake smile, hiding my misery in a jiffy behind my polite mask.

Tiffany bought it pronto - she sighed in obvious relief, probably grateful that her best friend – the ever-dependable and loyal Arianna Baxter was back. “I have been calling you for the great news. Aaron has cancelled on me for Dr. Chan’s book launch and it’s a little too late for me to find someone else. I was wondering if your Alex would be willing to accompany me.”

It felt like she had dropped a bombshell on me.

My heart bounced in reaction at the mention of his name. Then, as her words sunk in, the damned organ took a vertiginous dive at the latest development.

The famous date was finally on! I was too stunned to react accordingly or otherwise. Completely taken aback, I stared at Tiffany, the left region around my chest literally aching at the prospect as my fake smile slipped right off my face in a flash. Oh damn! I was going to make a complete fool of myself.

Tiffany, being Tiffany never noticed my lack of response as she casually reached out for my popcorn bucket and began to munch, oblivious to my plight. “Come to think of it. I would never have needed to contact you if you had given me his number in the first place,” she mused calmly removing her mobile in response to her words.

An irascible proprietorial reverence gripped me, the unswerving refusal on the tip of my mouth, which I swallowed at the last second.  He was my Alex!!!

Gulping down the repudiation, I reluctantly removed my phone from the charger and switched it on. I cringed when the device immediately pinged incessantly upon simultaneous reception of numerous notifications.

Even Tiffany stared at me in a suspicious way, having consequently deduced that I had switched it off for many days. Squinting at my screen as my glasses were still slipping on my nose, I ignored the messages only to stop when I realized that several of them were from Alex.

“Here,” I replied, reciting his number halfheartedly resuming my sulking, willing for Tiff to leave me alone so that I could unleash the horror inside me. 

Lately, my life consisted of one epiphany after another, followed by moments of indecision and freaking out. It was completely unlike me to be so temperamental – it was usually Tiffany the mercurial one in our friendship while I was the anchor.

She finally seemed to catch my upheaval because she looked down from her mobile long enough to comment “Alright, what’s with you? Are you having problems with your dad again?”

Somehow, her concern managed to upgrade my maudlin self until I felt tears weld up in my eyes. Damn! What was I supposed to reply? That I was so into a guy that I could hardly control my emotions anymore. How could I explain to anyone something which I could barely conceive myself?

So, I broke my golden rule – which was never lie to Tiff.

“Hmm,” I replied evasively, trying to avoid her eyes from over-laden guilt. “PMS problems.”

“Aaaah,” she drawled knowingly as I knew she would because it was the most conspicuous excuse that I could utilize without being subjected to a firing squad. We both experienced extreme mood swings just before our periods, and if anybody could relate, it would be her.

As she handed me over one of her magic pills which was supposed to trigger my menses, I felt a pang of guilt assail me. Should I tell her that I was interested in Alex? My mammoth pride cringed at the mere prospect of her making fun of me. Because I knew she would, or she would tend to compete with me over Alex when she had no interest for him and that would make the situation worse.

I sighed reflectively to myself. I was not a lousy friend. It had happened before – years before. There was some random guy whom I fancied, and I made the terrible mistake of confiding in Tiffany, not armed with the knowledge that my best friend would take it upon herself to seduce the pants out of the guy.

Days later, I caught them making out together – “just for fun” as Tiffany had stipulated without an ounce of apology.

After that incident, I kind of drifted apart from her – we never talked about it, but I felt like she had betrayed me. Although it was pretty common in our circle to poach on each other’s properties. Not that I liked the guy more than her but going behind my back to seduce someone I fancied seemed too obnoxious even for someone like her, especially when I would never do it myself.

Our friendship became mainly about her, with me taking on a secondary role of an afterthought more than anything. And the most pathetic part was that I could not even back out from that relationship because it was the only thing I had.

Until Alex.

The decadent thought caught up with me without warning and I shoved it aside with self-disgust. I could hardly understand why my life seemed to have reached a turning point – everything was divided between a “without Alex” and “until Alex” portion. Which made no sense whatsoever.

I had always prided myself for my independence of any emotional entanglements and that level of relating everything in my life to Alex terrified me. And also irritated the hell out of me. I had to get a grip on myself – I was behaving like an emotional junkie.

So lost in my thoughts that I barely registered Tiffany’s departure, only realizing the fact when my mobile beeped again. With trembling hands, I scrolled through my messages, scanning only the ones from Alex filled with trepidation that he would mention my momentary relapse at the coffee shop.

Relief filled me when I discovered only polite messages at first, then followed by concern – genuine concern at my lack of response. I was sorely tempted to respond back but stopped when I read the last message from him. Which was received only two minutes ago.

Hey Arianna, I wanted to thank you for your involvement. I am finally going to date the princess tonight. Thank you for everything.

My world felt like it had tilted over an axis, everything crumbling down at the apathetic and cold way he’d sent his gratitude. Tiffany must have contacted him for the so-awaited moment, and he must be over the moon by now at the prospect. Had all the pretense fallen off now that his purpose had been served?

His message seemed pretty final to me – no more tips about his insecurities, no more etiquette questions of the elite society. There was not even a trace of him having any doubts about the event.

I could not help feeling cast aside like a dirty mop after use.

That thought should have been enough to make me disgust him. Or to make me care less. But my mind kept drifting towards him yet again, towards the upcoming evening until I had the notion of going completely crazy.

I had to get out of my apartment before I went berserk!

With renewed determination, I grabbed my bag and headed for the Emerald Beauty Spa, feeling thankful when the girls greeted me with warmth despite having made no prior reservations. I was a regular at the beauty parlor, but the French owner followed strict rules and the golden one was no treatment without appointments. 

“Arianna, come in. Miss Simone is not here tonight so we can accommodate you in,” Lucy, the petite framed girl announced. “Dear Heaven, you look like you could use our help tonight,” she chuckled warmly, the sting in her comments being washed out by her smile.

A quick glance at the huge mirrors testified that the beautician was not quite wrong. I looked the epitome version of the idiom “look what the cat dragged in”. I allowed a reluctant smile to escape my lips and tried to concentrate on the people around me instead of focusing on my useless thoughts.

Forty minutes of waiting had me really focused on my surroundings, so much so that I knew things that I could care less. Like Mrs. Bowers had hair problems after her second pregnancy, which would not grow after she had tried just everything. And Pamela had an extremely rare eye color which hailed from her great great ancestors. Or that Mrs. McCoy was on the verge of divorcing Mr. McCoy because he was going bald and his wife felt that she deserved better than to live the rest of her life with a grandpa.

I felt like I had almost succeeded in forgetting my troubles until my turn arrived, and I closed my eyes to allow the girls to weave their magic on me. As soon as my eyelids drooped, the facetious world blotted out to leave the depiction of a smiling Alex flashing through my mind. Alarmed, I fought off the virtual demon and after futilely trying to push the picture out, I sighed resignedly.

I was done fighting the inevitable. So what if I was attracted to the guy? So what if he was dating my best friend? It was not like I was going to act on that terribly doomed attraction, right? Right?

As a friend, I was actually proud of myself to have acted accordingly - I had done my duty. Despite my terrible infatuation, I had practically handed him over on a golden platter to my best friend, and to not betray the trust they had both entrusted me with. Now, I could harbor my secret fantasies without having anyone knowing about them. It was the least I deserved after all.

One and a half hour later, I resurfaced in a more jovial mood feeling better about myself as I had contemplated at least forty-four scenarios in which Alex had figured out that he wanted me instead of the better-looking Tiffany. It seemed to me that conjuring happy endings were the only way to uplift my rotten mood.

Completely satisfied with myself, I exited the salon without even glancing at my profile, proud for having exorcised the Alex ghost from my mind. What worst could happen now? I knew that my fantasies would never come true so there were no expectations whatsoever in my dreams.

And then reality came crashing in in the form of a message from Alex.

Arianna, are you there? I need you.

Three simple words which annihilated all my carefully lain resolutions drawn for the past hour. An instant panic gripped me as my heart literally waged a war against my mind.

Millions of possibilities tumbled in my mind making it impossible for me to conjure one single coherent thought. In contrast, my heart was calm like it had already taken the decision.

Don’t you dare! my outraged brain warned me while my heart managed to convince me that I had the perfect excuse being served to me on a golden platter. Besides, wasn’t that the real reason behind cleaning yourself up? the traitorous organ slyly inferred.

Disoriented, I tried to still my raving mind and crazy heart, hands trembling as I contemplated my options, my composure completely ruined after receiving only one message from him. What was it with him that he turned me into such a total freak within seconds?

And I gave in.

Without second thoughts, I headed for my apartment and changed into a new dress which I always had in stock for similar social events, splashed the bare minimum make-up and dashed towards my car. There was not even one second of hesitation as I drove towards the Vanity Hall where the book launch was being held.

Nobody had ever needed me before. It felt exhilarating.

Even as I braved the phalanx of reporters in my white and gold gown, I was too elated to purport any mask that evening. For the first time in my adult life, I posed for the camera, playing along with the left and right turns for the photos, bestowing them with a genuine smile. It was all futile of course, I knew deep inside my heart that it was all for show and that they would not hesitate to destroy me the next day with their words.

I was too happy to care. There was someone inside waiting for me. For me. I wanted to shout to the world that I existed. For once. I was not the daughter of Mr. Thomas Baxter or the tagalong of the elusive Tiffany Cox. No, I was finally Arianna Baxter – a simple girl who hated the pretentious world and wanted someone to genuinely care about me.

Adrenalin surged with vengeance; I climbed the stairs enthusiastically filled with an intrepid daze of being a hero. Even the formidable crowd failed to intimidate me as I stood at the doorstep looking around for priceless sparkling emeralds.

When I finally homed into them, my breath caught in my throat.