Page 49 of The Ring
Yesterday, West, Laurie, TJ, and Annabelle went out to West’s club. Annabelle tried to convince me to go, but after last time, I’ve been avoiding any place that has alcohol and either TJ or Nate in it. She was really pushy, though—I was about to give in, but the sudden arrival of my grandmother derailed those plans.
I frown, concerned. “What happened?”
Our conversation pauses as we reach the front of the line, and the cashier asks for our order. Annabelle gets a hot oat milk latte, while I opt for an iced chai latte with regular milk. I’mkind of lactose intolerant—it gives me a stomach ache—but oat and soy milk don’t taste as good. That’s a problem for future me; present me is going to enjoy her milk.
I pay for our drinks—it’s the least I can do after she spent the last hour with me at Harry Winston, looking at multiple diamonds with different specs, or as she put it, “stones that pretty much all look the same.” She doesn’t like jewellery as much as I do.
“So what happened?” I repeat when we reach the pickup counter.
“Weberly Johnson happened,” Annabelle answers, letting out an annoyed huff.
“What did she do?”
Annabelle’s face scrunches in disgust. “She was all over him—it was dégueulasse.”Disgusting.
Weberly Johnson is a socialite, influencer, and a former child actor around our age. She runs in the same circles as us, but unlike us, she wasn’t born into them. Despite what some articles and certain people might suggest, Annabelle and I don’t subscribe to mean girl behaviour, and we don’t care about her origins or how much money she has. What we do care about is the fact that she got into our circles by dating guys with big trust funds. She’s kind of a gold digger. I guess the residuals from her acting jobs don’t make enough money to maintain her lavish lifestyle, so she has to degrade herself by dating barely passable human beings to keep that life going instead of getting a real job. At the very least, if she has her eye on Laurie, her standards are improving.
I shouldn’t be so mean; I kind of owe her. Thanks to her recent breakup with her boyfriend and my grandmother’s PR stunt, the press has mostly stopped stalking me. Also, I’m pretty sure someone on my family’s PR team paid the press to make her breakup story bigger so that people would forget about mydrama. But if you mess with my dream couple, you’re getting my wrath. And honestly, my family’s PR team blowing up her story probably helped her too—after all, they say there’s no such thing as bad publicity.
“Were they kissing?” I ask her.
“No,” she replies.
I give her a confused look because when someone says two people are “all over each other,” I assume they are making out.
“But she was stuck to his side all night, laughing at all his jokes and touching him,” Annabelle says, justifying her statement, her anger rising with each word.
The barista calls out our names, and we each grab our drinks and walk to the exit.
“But they didn’t kiss—that’s the important thing,” I tell her. “He’s probably not interested.”
“If he isn’t, then why did he let her spend all night with him?”
She’s getting a little irrational; spending time with someone doesn’t necessarily mean you’re interested in them. But I know very well what jealousy can do to a person. In high school, I was the queen of irrational jealousy for a while. Annabelle brought me back to earth, and now it’s my turn to return the favour.
We step out onto the street and begin walking towards Prada. Annabelle wanted to check out a bag there.
I take a few sips of my chai, drinking almost half of it since I don’t know how to make a drink last. “You know Laurie is too kind. He was probably just being polite.”
“But she’sWeberly Johnson!” Annabelle exclaims.
What Annabelle actually means is that Weberly is pretty damn hot. She kind of emanates this porn star energy some boys tend to fall for, but I would never say that to Annabelle aloud. Plus, being hot isn’t everything, and I’ve never seenLaurie interested in a ginger. Brunettes, yes. Blondes, definitely. But gingers? No. And Annabelle is also extremely hot and gorgeous, just not in the same vulgar way Weberly is.
I stop walking, and so does Annabelle. I place a hand on her shoulder to make sure I have her full attention. “And you areAnnabelle Pieret, and there’s no one hotter than my best friend.”
She smiles at me, but there’s a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Still, maybe Laurie and I weren’t meant to be. If we were, it should be easy… not this hard.”
I’ve always believed good things take hard work, but maybe that’s the problem. Maybe when it comes to love, if it’s easy, it means it’s right, and if it’s hard, it means it’s wrong. My relationship with TJ has been many things, but I wouldn't exactly call it easy.
I look straight ahead and see both Laurie and TJ walking towards us.
What the hell?
I feel like the fucking universe is sending me mixed signals. Just when I start to think that maybe TJ and I were never meant to be, he appears right in front of me. But as well, I’m standing beside Annabelle, and she was thinking the same thing about Laurie, so maybe this isn’t a signal for me—it’s for her.
I point straight ahead so that Annabelle notices them. “Speak of the devil, and he will appear,” I say with a smirk.
We continue walking straight ahead until we bump into them.
