Ready for You (Ready #3)(4)
“Amelia Emerson! You haven’t changed a bit! You’re just as skinny and gorgeous as ever. But wait, hold on,” she said, stepping back to assess me for a moment. “Turn for me.”
I rolled my eyes and did as she’d said, making a complete turn on her front stoop. I hoped her neighbors couldn’t see this little spectacle. I would be staying here for a bit, and I didn’t want them to think I was Liv’s crazy relative coming to visit.
“Your boobs got bigger!” she practically announced to the entire block.
“Oh my God, they did not!” I said, folding my arms over my chest.
“They did so,” she fired back, pulling my arms away to expose the area in question.
Suddenly, I felt underdressed next to my long-lost friend. She was very put together—in a strange way. It was much different than the Liv I remembered. She had on a gorgeous maxi dress that hugged her curves and highlighted her own rack nicely. Her jewelry all looked handmade, nothing like the pricey designer pieces our parents use to buy. The bold silver necklace and matching earrings she wore accentuated her long neck and shiny black hair. Her appearance was very eclectic and artsy but in a hip and sophisticated manner.
I looked like a bum standing next to her. Since I had been traveling all day, I wasn’t wearing anything fancy. I had on a faded Old Navy tank top and a pair of jeans I’d probably owned since college. Besides the pendant around my neck that I never took off, I didn’t have any other jewelry on. To complete my fashion train wreck, I was wearing flip-flops that didn’t even match.
Yay, me.
“Well, whatever you say, but I still think they are bigger. Is that a thing? Are they supposed to get bigger in our twenties? Because mine sure haven’t. I heard they sometimes grow with pregnancy, but that shit definitely isn’t ever happening to me, so I’m stuck with my mediums. I’ve never had any complaints though. What do they say? A handful is all you need.”
I just stared for a moment, thrown off guard by what she’d said, but I laughed it off. Shaking my head, I said, “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Oh, but I have. Can’t you tell?” She tossed her hands up as if to acknowledge her surroundings as validation of her epic change.
“Yes, you need to tell me all about this,” I said, waving my pointer finger in a circle to incorporate her entire look.
“Oh, I plan to. Let’s get you inside and make some tea.”
Of course she drank tea.
As we made our way through her home, I took notice of the hand-carved wood artwork on the walls and the unusual paintings scattered everywhere. I couldn’t help but wonder how my privileged friend had gone from being a senator’s daughter to wearing moonstones and making tea.
I settled into a chair at her worn kitchen table and drew my knees up to my chin.
“Still folding yourself into a ball, Mia?”
It was the second time I’d heard her say my former name. I’d given that name up when I left my old life behind. When I’d walked away from Virginia, I’d stopped being Mia, and I’d started using my proper name, Amelia.
Mia was the name he had given me, and I couldn’t bear to hear it. I didn’t deserve it anymore.
“I go by Amelia now,” I simply said.
“Okay,” she said, sending me a strange look. “Still folding yourself into a ball, Amelia?”
“Yes, I guess some things never change.”
She gave me a long stare as she filled up the teakettle. “No, they don’t.”
We moved from awkward conversation to silence for a while as she moved about the kitchen, pulling out snacks and tea from some weird tin. She was so different, yet I could still see parts of my old friend there. Some of her mannerisms were the same, like how she bit her bottom lip as she became impatient while waiting for the water to boil and how she rocked her hips when she was standing. I used to call her a valley girl for that silly movement after seeing the girls on Clueless do it. She would just laugh it off and keep doing it.
Liv finished pouring our tea—some weird herbal blend and set the mugs on a tray along with a plate of cookies. She brought everything over and set it on the table and joined me. I added a bit of cream to my tea and grabbed a spiced cookie to nibble on.
“So, are we going to talk about why you ran out of here like a demon on graduation night and then never came back? Or are we going to continue to ignore it?”
I knew she would ask, yet I still hadn’t prepared an answer.
“I…had to leave. I just…I’m sorry, Liv. I’m not ready to talk about this yet.”
I looked up, expecting to see hurt or anger, but she was radiating understanding.
“Okay, I can deal with that—as long as you’ll be ready to talk someday.”
“Okay,” I agreed, not knowing if that day would ever come.
As we continued to eat our cookies and sip our teas, something was tugging at me, something I needed to know. It was more than what Liv had been doing since high school, more than whether that ice cream store was still down the street from my old house. I needed to know about him.
“Liv, I need to know. Does Garrett still live here?”
Saying his name out loud hurt. I didn’t think I’d actually said those precious syllables in years. Hearing it spring free from my lips felt like I was cutting deep into my own flesh. It felt raw and ragged, like gravel against my vocal cords, and I was ashamed for even saying it.