“Roxy, why do you look like you’re about to cry?”
We’ve been talking in French, but we switch to English for Monroe. She’s bilingual, but Roxanne and I are both native Québécois, and we’re a little hard to keep up with when we get going together.
“She ate my Ultimate Nacho!” Roxanne wails.
I finish chewing and swallow while Monroe gives me a look like I’m in for it.
“Uh oh. That’s a serious offence, DeeDee.”
“Ultimate Nacho?” I ask. “Is that an English thing or just a Roxanne and Monroe being weird thing?”
Monroe chuckles. “It’s a Roxanne and Monroe thing.”
The two of them have been best friends for years. Roxanne used to work at Taverne Toulouse, and the three of us still all hang out together a lot, but I’ve never been as close with them as they are with each other.
“The Ultimate Nacho,” Roxanne explains, glaring at my hand like she can make the chip reappear, “is the one perfect nacho that every plate of nachos contains. There is but one tortilla chip that receives the ideal combination and amount of toppings, and you ate mine!”
“You deserved it.” I turn to Monroe. “She asked me how Philippe is doing.”
“Oh.” Monroe frowns. “Is something wrong with you and Philippe?”
I throw my head back and groan before unleashing a long string of French swear words that would have Monroe shushing me if there were any customers in the place. It’s only 4PM, so Taverne Toulouse is empty besides us and some staff in the back.
“Philippe was two boyfriends ago!” I shout once I’m done cursing. Then I curse a little bit more.
“Oh.” Monroe at least looks a little ashamed of herself.
“Yeah,” Roxanne adds, “and now she’s not going to tell us her current boyfriend’s name.”
“It is your punishment!” I’ve been using that word a lot since Zach reminded me of it last week. That’s how I get English words to stick in my head: I just use them so much everyone gets annoyed with me.
“Oh!” Monroe snaps her fingers. “Oh, wait! I know it! Of course I know it. You brought him to that Friday night thing here last month. It’s that X guy, right?”
“Right!” Roxy joins in. “He’s the one who did that thing with the beer can.”
I sigh. “Yes. That is him.”
So he likes to crush beer cans against his head at parties. So what? There are worse things in life.
“Hey.” Roxanne reaches across the bar and squeezes my arm. “I’m really sorry I forgot. That was rude of me.”
I put my hand over hers. “It’s okay, ma belle. You only met him once anyway, and I haven’t talked to you in foreeeeever.”
“Yeah, what’s the deal with that?” Roxanne agrees. “When did we all get so busy and grown up?”
Monroe pulls herself onto a stool, and I take in the sight of them sitting there beside each other. For best friends, they sure are opposites. Monroe is barely five feet tall, with a cute brunette bob I keep begging her to let me dye, or at least highlight. She’s curvy and pretty with her pink cheeks and lips, and she even makes all the frumpy clothes she wears look adorable.
Roxy, on the other hand, always seems like she’s some kind of European fashion model with her long legs and black outfits. She’s let me get a hold of her hair a few times, and right now it’s a dark chocolaty colour.
“Uh, you two got busy,” I remind them. “You always know where to find me.” I slap both my hands on the bar.
“This is the only place I seem to be able to hang out with either of you.” Roxanne clutches Monroe’s shoulder. “If I want to get a lunch date in with this one, we have to eat at the bar. It’s a wonder I even get her out of the office.”
“Hush,” Monroe scolds. “I’m taking you to a movie tonight. Don’t complain.”
“Oh, speaking of dates, are you bringing X to the April Showers show?” Roxanne asks me.
It will be April in a couple days, and we’re having a big ‘Fuck you, winter’ bash at Taverne Toulouse on Saturday to kick the new month off. Zach’s DJ roommate is doing a set, and she’s popular enough to bring in a big crowd.
“Yeah, he said he wants to go.” I stop and bite my lip, wondering how they’re going to take what I say next and if I should say it at all. Then I just blurt it out. “We moved in together.”
They blink at me. Roxanne freezes with a nacho halfway to her mouth.
“Oh,” Monroe finally says. “Wow. Congratulations.”
“I know it’s fast,” I add in a rush, “and, ben, I guess we didn’t really move in together. My new apartment fell through. The landlord was some sketchy connard, and I couldn’t keep my old place, so X is letting me keep my stuff in his spare room, and I’m staying there until I find something else.”
“Oh, DeeDee, I’m so sorry.” Monroe practically falls off her barstool as she lunges forward to grab my arm. “I had no idea you got stranded. That must have been horrible.”
“Kinda,” I admit, “but it is actually going very well with X. He’s a bouncer, so he works late nights too, and we get along so well.”
“That’s good.” Roxy finally crunches down on her nacho. “Just so you know, if you do end up needing somewhere to stay again, you can always call me.”
“Or me,” Monroe adds.
“Yeah, I literally spent a year occupying Monroe’s living room when I was sixteen,” Roxanne chips in. “I would recommend it.”
I make myself smile as I thank them and tell them I will, but it doesn’t stop me from remembering that they were the first people I thought to call, or why I decided not to.
We aren’t teenagers. Monroe owns a business. Roxanne manages one. They have careers and cool jobs and dreams they were brave enough to chase. They have boyfriends—serious boyfriends with careers of their own. Tabarnak, Roxy is getting married in May.
I can’t move into their living rooms.
So me and all my stuff are staying with a guy I met less than two months ago, but hey, people have done crazier stuff before.
Monroe helps Roxanne with the nachos while I finish getting the bar set up. I’m closing tonight, but since it’s Monday, I doubt we’ll stay open any later than eleven. The two of them clear the plate in about twenty minutes and wish me a good shift as they pull their coats on.
“Oh, hey,” I call out when they’re about to leave, “I didn’t check the schedule for today. Do you know if I’m closing with Zach again, Monroe?”
“I don’t believe he’s on tonight. I hope you’ve been playing nice with him.”
Roxanne laughs. “He is so in love with you, DeeDee.”
I put my hands on my hips. “He is not.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah. Right.”
“He is not!” I repeat. “Why does everyone always say that? We are friends.”
“Yeah, he’s the kind of friend who wants to take you on dates, buy you flowers, and call you his girlfriend. He also probably wants to bend you over the bar.”
“Roxy!”