Chapter Text
I was fed up. There, I said it, I did not want to be at this party. In a way, of course, I wanted to; I needed to be there for Jere, and Talia really was a lovely girl. But, there were far too many people sitting around and somehow unanimously agreeing to play silly little high school games.
Despite my and Jeremiah’s failed wedding, we made contact within less than a year, whilst I was in Paris and really resolved the whole situation. Well, I guess it’s more like half of the problem. But our problem was fully overcome. We facetimed for hours, saying everything we had been bottling up for our two and a half year relationship, and really worked through it all.
In the end, we both admitted the real motives behind the romance.
For me, a pronounced rebound (from he who shall not be named) that worked for so long, purely based on the closeness and comfort we already felt in each other.
For him, an outlet of his grief for Susannah, and although it took a lot for him to admit, a way of soothing his own insecurities passed on from his father via he who shall not be named.
We were really, genuinely, and inexplicably, to most, best friends again. There was never a tension or battle of internal monologues; we simply slipped back into our childhood dynamic.
Now, though, I sat wondering why on earth I decided to mend my relationship with my childhood best friend as we sat in such a large circle of camping chairs and pool floaties on Cousins beach, for what Jeremiah described as a ‘chill combined bachelor party.’
He and Talia had met around a month after he and I had mended things, and I could positively say they were truly, madly and deeply in love. He had proposed around two years ago by now, on their fourth anniversary. She was a baker, ran her own shop and everything, he floated around based on seasons, but when he wasn’t a surfing coach, he was CEO of some flashy company I didn’t quite understand.
And I, well I’m not really doing anything anymore. It’s been almost exactly seven years since my wedding day, and I had spent almost all of that time in Paris, working with Paris Saint-Germain FC as a sports psychologist, fancy term for soccer shrink, and now, this summer I had finally moved home. I didn’t exactly have a job lined up yet, but I had been applying.
I startled slightly at the hand waving around in front of my eyes, “Belly! Earth to Belly…” Jeremiah sung.
I slapped his hand out of the way with a laugh, “Sorry, what?”
I took a quick glance around the circle, quickly and quietly analysing the scene before me, Jeremiah and Talia on an inflatable sofa, looking as though they may be genuinely super-glued together, Taylor to my right, chatting with one of Talia’s friends I forget the name of. Redbird and his boyfriend (who I want to say is called Joe, but I honestly can’t keep up with his love life) are talking to Talia’s brother, Weston. A few people scattered, I knew to be their friends, amongst them Cam and Skye, who, I should add, broke up a very long time ago, but from what I hear, hook up whenever in the same state. And then my own brother, Steven, was talking to my main villain of the evening. Not that he had even done more than say ‘Hi’ and a polite ‘How have you been?’ when I walked through the door. But it didn’t matter; there’s a reason I’ve avoided this place for so long.
I had made this evaluation all in the two seconds Jeremiah took to reply, “Talia suggested truth or dare, you in, Bells?”
I think I actually cackled, “No way. I’ve not participated in any of these games all night, and I do not intend to start now.”
Talia leaned forward, “C’mon, Iz, it’ll be fun, just this once. Shots as forfeit?”
I did feel guilty saying no to both of them all night, and I did feel an extreme need to drink, so stupidly I said, “Fine!”
Talia had actually squealed, and Jere had lit up entirely, so I wasn’t too angry at myself; it was their party, after all. “Alright, everyone!” Jeremiah projected, “Thank god we brought the tequila, big game of truth or dare, old times' sake!”
The volume immediately increased and I focused my attention on Taylor to avoid anything else catching my attention, “I don’t think we’ve played this game together since freshman year.”
She smirked, “Don’t remind me how long ago that was! Prepare, Belly, I expect you’ll be forfeiting a lot.” We both laughed.
“Okay, I’ll go first, Redbird, truth or dare?” I sipped my drink as Jeremiah spoke.
Redbird- god it still feels weird calling him that- is practically on the edge of his seat, “Truth.”
Jere asked a question about his bodycount. He answered as though 78 was the same as 5, he then dared Cam to chug a beer upside down. Cam asked one of Talia’s friends who she thought was hottest, she said Conrad. She dared Talia to give Jere a lap dance, she did. She dared Weston to skinny dip, he took a shot due to the temperature, I was disappointed, he was hot. He asked Taylor where the craziest place she’d had sex was, she said a Subway sandwich shop rest room, Taylor dared Steven to cannonball into the pool, he did. Steven asked Conrad what the biggest lie he had ever told was, he shotted. Conrad dared one of Jere’s friends, Harry, she now knew, to send a naughty text to his most recent chat, he did. Then it was me.
I had been having a great time, I’d gone through two drinks and felt almost high on how much I had laughed throughout the game.
“Belly isn’t it?” Harry asked.
I nodded, glass in hand, “Isobel to you, I’m afraid.” The group laughed. “Truth.”
I was lifting my drink to my mouth as he asked the question, taking a gulp, “Who was better in bed, Jeremiah or Conrad?” Safe to say I choked on my drink. There was a hum about the group, probably people who didn’t know who I was, whispering about why he was under the impression I had slept with both the Fisher brothers.
“Dude! You can’t-” Jeremiah had started before my interruption. I didn’t grace a look at the other Fisher brother.
I shrugged, and maybe it was the cocktails talking, but what came out of my mouth was, “Jere, it’s fine, I have avoided the question for years.” I rolled my eyes, “As I’m sure Talia will be delighted to know, Conrad.” There was a split second of deadly silence as I took another sip, “I never slept with Jere,”
Now they were talking. There were quite a few questions directed at me, but for the most part, it was all the acquaintances talking amongst themselves.
It was then, for the first time of the night, we made eye contact. I expected a hard and rigid exterior, but instead, he was fully relaxed in his beach chair, manspreading, typical, beer bottle being tipped back down his throat, only to be brought back down and reveal a slight smirk. Not there if you didn’t know him as well as I did.