Let's Try This Again Read online

  “So…something interesting happened the other day that I thought you might find…interesting,” Becca rambled. She liked to draw things out for the drama of it. I told you I like dramatics; I am a product of my environment.

  “How…interesting,” I replied. Not that interested. Usually, what Becca found “interesting” was…well, I found it to be like reading the newspaper instead of just getting my news like every other American nowadays, off of Twitter.

  “Well I was in CVS looking for a razor. A men’s Gillette one, you know, because I think they just work better than women’s razors for some reason. They really do, though. And the Valentine ‘s Day candy was on sale, so I got caught up looking at that and got sad because, you know, Luke had cancelled on me on Valentine’s Day, and it just brought all that up again…”

  “Becca. Also on the list of things I don’t need to know: the cloud formations that day.”

  “Sorry. I was in CVS, and your song came on over the speakers!”

  Surprisingly enough, I did find this interesting. I’d heard our song plenty of times on the radio, but I don’t think I’ll ever not feel amazed by it. I’m the girl who still gets star struck by my own boyfriend every time I go to his house. “That is actually really cool, Becs! I love that.” I smiled.

  “That’s not even the best part.”

  “What is?”

  She paused for dramatic effect, of course. Even sighed.

  “Isaac was there.” Becca hadn’t needed to pause or sigh…the drama was built right into the punch line.

  “Oh?” I tried to sound super casual; it was good she couldn’t see me as I immediately flushed and my heartbeat started jumping rope.

  “Josie, it was wild. I was standing by the giant Hershey bars, I heard the song, and then I heard his voice. Against yours. It was like hearing you two talk to each other…super strange,” Becca continued. “But he was talking to someone else about you.”

  I didn’t know whether my heart had stopped or it was just going so fast I couldn’t even detect the movement. It took me a few seconds to figure out that I’d stopped breathing.

  “What was he saying?” I gulped air in, but tried to regulate it quickly so I would sound normal. Spoiler alert—it didn’t really work. I had to ask these questions that propelled the conversation forward because Becca liked cliffhangers.

  “He was with someone.”

  “A girl?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  “No, a guy.”

  My pulse started to slow; I felt my body allowing me air. If Becca had said yes, I might’ve passed out.

  “Isaac told him the song playing was about him.”

  “He did? That’s…” I could’ve said that was so weird. But it wasn’t. I was transparent; I was vulnerable because it had been about him. Isaac knew me best that way. No matter how high I’d tried to build my walls up each time we stopped seeing each other, I had always let him back in. He knew what he was to me because he had seen it in my eyes, felt it in my touch…the same way I knew what I had been to him, once. You can only fake so much—parts of the real you get through no matter how hard you try to pretend you don’t care.

  “The guy with him was like, ‘This is Josie?’ and then saying, like, ‘She sounds amazing. That’s incredible. She went to California and really did it.’ The guy was really talking you up,” Becca went on. “Isaac was just like, ‘Yeah, I knew she would.’ And the friend was like, ‘You really blew that one, huh?’ clearly teasing him. By this time I pretty much had my ear pressed up against the M&M bags to listen. I heard nothing though, so I thought maybe they were done talking about it. But then Isaac just went, ‘Yeah.’”

  “Did he sound…” For all I knew he could’ve sounded like he was mocking me. “Yeah, sure, really missed out on the crazy-train Taylor Swift wannabee that wrote an ode to me.”

  “It sounded like he was sad.”

  Good. I had never breathed easier in my life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “Cause I’m Comin Home Again”

  When Molly and Ellie picked us up at the airport, they had a big sign with Carter’s name written in the middle. I gave them a fake side eye as we came down the escalator towards them, even though it was taking every ounce of self-control I had not to jump on the heads of everyone in front of me to get to them faster.

  Then I gave up those ounces of control, and I pushed my way through. Right before I reached them, they flipped the sign around. It was decorated in glitter and bright pink and my name was written way bigger than Carter’s.

  I always knew they loved me most.

  We jumped and hugged and screamed and caused a scene like anyone who truly loves each other will do at the airport. Carter stayed back a little, giving us our reunion. Or maybe he was terrified that if he got too close, Molly or Ellie would drag him into the mosh pit of love. Either was possible and understandable. To give my girls credit, they both just shook Carter’s hand calmly and introduced themselves. Carter hugged them both anyway, despite their outstretched hands, and I loved him for that because we both knew how much it made their day. Definitely their week. Possibly their lives. We were easy-to-please women.

  “Your mom said we could have you for the night; you’re coming right to my house.” Molly put her arm around my waist, her head on my shoulder as we walked past all the other (not as) happily reunited groups.

  “And then we’re getting ready and going to Hogans,” Ellie added, holding my hand. I could never explain how good it felt to be wrapped in my best friend sandwich.

  “Hogan’s?” Carter questioned. “Is that a friend of yours?”

  “In this town, it’s a friend of everyone,” I said and we laughed.

  I was home.

  ***

  The place had not changed. At all. Not like it should’ve, I’d only been gone for like nine-ish months. And it was nice to know that no matter how far I’d get, some things would always stay the same.

  So I got the same house vodka in my vodka soda as I had since I turned 21 (okay, 18). And we sat at the same seats at the bar. And saw the same people I’d graduated elementary, then middle, then high school with. And I didn’t even want to punch all of them automatically! Distance had put some rose-colored glasses on me. After a few minutes catching up with each “Taylor from English block eight” and “Bobby from first grade,” I did feel the urge to slap them. But that’s a much longer record for tolerance than I could ever remember holding.

  Everyone was staring at Carter, obviously. Celebrities were few and far between in little old Connecticut…at least where we lived. Conan O’Brien did visit the local deli one time, but that’s really the extent of it. Carter sat and got introduced to dozens of people and posed for just as many selfies, and he did it all with a smile on his face and my hand in his. What a guy.

  Katey Kelsee even popped in. Which was not surprising because, like I mentioned before, I’m pretty sure she had a bridge or something in there that she lived under, collecting tolls and covers. To watch the orange practically melt off her face when she saw me was—it was pure magic. I don’t think I could’ve been happier if I was riding a unicorn on a rainbow eating Twix bars and having multiple orgasms.

  A while later, the crowd (around Carter) had thinned, and we were free to move around the bar and scope the scene. Molly was on her fifth G&T and being chatted up by a cute guy we’d never seen before, which was like a Bigfoot sighting. Usually it was the same Tom, Dick, and Hornies.

  Ellie and I sidled up next to her, ready to perform the best friend duty of making sure her drunk goggles weren’t too foggy. It’s not the best plan of attack when all the best friends are goggled up, but hey, you do what you gotta do. One of my personal heroes, Leslie Knope, was incredibly correct when she said, “Ovaries before brovaries.” We even thought about getting that tattooed on us for a brief (and, again, drunken) moment. Carter used the oncoming inquisition as an excuse to go to the bathroom.

  “So.” Ellie launched the
attack. “What do you do for a living?”

  “Hi, I’m Jason,” the mysterious guy drinking a dark beer (point, mysterious guy) responded.

  “Jason, do you have any family history of mental illness?” Ellie continued, clearly having forgotten she had already asked a question. I told you this wasn’t always the best plan of attack.

  “Ellie Jane Roscoe! Leave him alone.” Molly laughed.

  “No, no, it’s fine.” Jason played along. “You know, I don’t think we do have any mental illness in the genes. But we can ask my cousin, he’s right over there.” Jason nodded towards a group of guys huddled around a booth in the back. “The one standing. Isaac Jude.”

  Molly gasped, but thankfully her drunkenness turned it into a hiccup, kind of disguising the commotion going on in all of our heads. It didn’t disguise it enough.

  “You know him?” Jason looked at us expectantly.

  Yeah. I know him. I know he puts a little slab of butter in his coffee instead of cream. I know he sleeps on the right side of his bed. I know every song on his “wake up” playlist, which included both “Buffalo Soldier” and “Good Vibrations.” I know that he used to wake up at four in the morning to read before going to the gym. I know what turns him on. I know what his tongue tastes like. I know his favorite kind of pizza and exactly how much alcohol will get him drunk enough to dance in public.

  “No. Not really.”

  My friends watched me like I was a bird that had just fallen out of its nest. Wanting to make sure I was all right, but scared to touch me. As if he sensed us looking at him, Isaac turned towards us. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. And then Jason, this angel of death who had been sent into my life, waved him over. I turned my face into my drink, took a long sip and drained it. Need you now more than ever, old friend, and you abandon me like this, I thought at my vodka.

  “Isaac, this is…I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name yet,” Jason, the bearer of all things bad in my life, said to me.

  “Josie,” Isaac answered for me.

  “I thought you said you didn’t know each other?” Jason, the menace of the east coast, pressed.

  “We don’t. Not anymore,” I stated. “Guys, I’m going to get a refill.” I turned and left the group, including Jason, the first person on my “To Kill” list. When I got to the bar, Isaac was beside me.

  “You’re here.” He looked at me like I was a mirage. “Vodka soda, strong,” I told the bartender.

  “I don’t know if I could even begin to explain how good it felt to look up across a room and see your face.”

  At that, I had to look at him. Wouldn’t you? I searched his face for a person I recognized. A person I had loved. Last time I saw him, that person had been wiped away. He had looked at and through me, and now I was the color in both his eyes. He didn’t want to see anything else.

  I had seen that look before, and it had nearly destroyed me.

  “Jos?” Carter’s hand slid into mine, and he clearly didn’t know what was going on or how weird this was. “Did you want another drink?”

  “I…” I ripped myself from Isaac’s new, yet old, gaze. “Uh, I just ordered one. I’m sorry, did you want something else?”

  “Hi, I’m Carter.” He stuck his hand out to Isaac, a smile on his face. Isaac took it, firmly.

  “Isaac.” Like he expected Carter to know who he was. Carter’s instantly erased smile told Isaac that he was right. He barely hid his self-satisfied grin. He wasn’t even trying.

  “Ah.” Carter nodded.

  I willed Isaac to walk away with my mind. I wanted to rewind the past ten minutes and jump into Molly’s body and walk right past Jason and never know that a human could actually feel this awkward and uncomfortable. But no, instead, Isaac stood there stoically as if Carter had interrupted a very important conversation that he was hoping to continue.

  Then one of the worst things that could’ve happened, happened. Carter’s and my song started playing. I glanced over to Molly and Ellie, wondering if they could still see me or if I had somehow entered a dream world and maybe I could pinch myself out of it. Oh. They could see me. And they were half-laughing, half-mouthing “I’m sorry,” shaking their heads, and shrugging like this was just a crazy joke.

  I didn’t know when. I didn’t know how, but I was going to hurt them. Mostly Molly for bringing Jason into our lives.

  To recap, I was standing at the bar with my ex-boyfriend who I had been very much in love with up until I met my new boyfriend, who was also standing at the bar, while a song that I wrote with my new boyfriend that was inspired by my broken heart from my ex-boyfriend played as the soundtrack to this adorable little pow wow.

  If Hogans could’ve afforded a spotlight, it would’ve been on the three of us.

  Carter stood, smiling at everyone looking at us and listening to our music, as if he didn’t know that the guy I’d written this about was standing right next to him. His only saving grace was that he probably thought that Isaac was dumb enough that he hadn’t put any of this together. Maybe my sis hadn’t heard right in the CVS when he said it was about him…

  “Hey. It’s our song, huh?” Isaac nudged me. No such fucking luck.

  “Alright, bud,” Carter started, but I cut him off and tugged his hand in the direction of my friends.

  “Well…” I finally sliced through their stare off. “We should get back.”

  “Josie, I’d love to…I don’t know, catch up. Get coffee. Or dinner. Or something. I don’t know how long you’re here for, but…” Isaac had put his hand on the small of my back. It was like the chicken noodle soup of touches; it warmed my whole body, eased my ache, made me want to curl up and cuddle my way into a dream. So much so, I was scared Carter would feel that warmth spread to my hand.

  I only paused for a second – a nano-second (I don’t really know what a nano- second is, but it was probably even less than that). Then I turned back to answer him…tell him no obviously. I had no interest in anything he had to say. I had no interest in “catching up” with him; he would never catch up with me. That I had come to realize. So what was the point?

  But when I paused – for that zeptosecond (a sextillionth of a second, versus a nanosecond which is just a billionth of a second…I Googled it) – I looked at his stupid eyes and remembered the homemade cinnamon rolls he baked me for Valentine’s Day last year. Homemade. Cinnamon rolls. I haven’t eaten one since. And I remembered what happened after the cinnamon rolls, which gave me little goosebumps up my arms.

  Don’t ask me how that happened in a zeptosecond.

  It just did.

  “Sure. Maybe,” I spit out, and then I had another item on my “Moments To Rewind” list.

  Carter’s grip loosened on my hand.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  A Couple Days After

  Carter didn’t make a big deal about the incident for the rest of the trip. He let me spend the next couple of days basking in the glow of my best friends’ lovin’, my mom’s cooking, and hometown goodness. But as we were packing on our last day, it was clear he hadn’t let it go (let it goooOOOOOooo – Frozen, anybody?).

  My phone buzzed next to my open suitcase. Molly, hoping to get in one last trip to Friendly’s before we left.

  “Who’s that? Isaac? Trying to set up your date?” He had that tone of voice where you’re trying to sound light and jokey, but it’s clearly just a thin glaze over a suspicious and annoyed accusation. Obviously, it was easy for me to unearth these layers—being an expert at employing the tactic myself. While I understood where he was coming from, I was having enough trouble not over thinking all the Isaac baggage I had re-acquired here.

  “Funny,” I deadpanned. Isaac hadn’t actually contacted me to set up anything—which I was a little bothered by—but the fact that I was bothered by it bothered me even more. He clearly had just been saying all of that to get under Carter’s skin. He hadn’t grown up at all in the time I’d been gone, and I felt like almost an entirely different person
.

  “It’s not like you exactly told him no,” Carter said.

  “I didn’t tell him yes, either.”

  “Yeah, well… you might as well have. What were you guys talking about before I came up? Why were you even with him?”

  “He followed me to the bar, Carter. I didn’t ask him to piggy back me over there, for Christ’s sake.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s just…” He shook his head, his eyes downcast. He didn’t want to be making a big deal out of this, but it obviously had really bothered him. I mentally awarded him boyfriend points for sitting on this as long as he had. “I hadn’t planned on meeting him. That’s not what I wanted either. Believe me.”

  Carter sat on the bed, grabbed my hands to stop me from packing. He kissed one, I guess to apologize for being jealous. I don’t care what any girl says—a little jealousy is okay with us. We want you to feel scared that we’ll get stolen away. I don’t want you losing an eye in a duel at high noon, but putting up a little fight because you think that guy was checking out my ass makes me feel good because A) it shows me you care about me enough to care about losing me and B) my ass must be lookin’ good that day. This kind of jealous was harder to enjoy, though, because it had some real standing. The guy on the street looking at my butt has a very, very small chance of sweeping me off my feet. Not that Isaac had swept me, or I wanted Isaac to sweep me, but I had been swept before. Not so long ago, either. So I didn’t need him to apologize for being human.