The Coolest Chick I Knew

"That is so NOT true," she hissed, pulling away.

"Oh, really," I said coolly. "What am I wearing tonight?"

"What..."

"You'd think you'd want your man to look good, too, be proud of him, so that we could make a great impression together, maybe even coordinate or something, but you don't have any idea, do you?"

"But you look good in everything, honey. You know how to dress. I trust you."

"Please."

There was silence for several minutes. I could see the wheels turning.

"So what ARE you wearing?" she finally asked.

"None of your goddamn business," I spat.

"Okay," she said. "Truce. I deserved that."

I didn't say anything. What was there to say, anyway?

"Look," she said, moving back into my space. "You don't know what it was like for me back then."

"I think I do," I said archly. "I think you've told me about it often enough. I think I've heard you share about it in your meetings ad nauseum."

"But you don't KNOW," she insisted, "You think you do, but you don't.

"I'm sick of you patronizing me," she continued, backing away as far away from me as she could against the door as she got worked up. "Sick of it. I've looked forward to this night for years. I remember thinking about it when I was waiting to go in for my eye surgery."

"Really?" I asked dryly. "That long."

"Yeah, that long, jerk," she said. "You don't know what it was like to be the ugly girl. And don't even try to say anything different," she said, immediately assuming I would attempt to deny or minimize what she was saying. "I'm a fucking swan, and I'm going to fly tonight. Don't you dare hold me down."

"I'm not trying to hold you down," I said.

"Yes you are!" she cried. "Yes you are, Rick!"

I looked down at the speedometer to see it had reached ninety-eight miles an hour. I hadn't even noticed.

"Babe," I said as we slowed, "We have to back this down before I run us off the road. We were almost going a hundred."

"Oh, Jesus. Be more careful, honey."

"Look, let me just say this," I said. "I'm not trying to get the last word in, I'm not, but I didn't fall in love with you for your looks, and I don't think that's why you fell for me, either."

"That's not..."

"I always tell anyone who asks me. You were - are - the coolest chick I know. That's what they didn't get to find out about you back then. That was their loss. Just be you and show them how cool you are. The hot part is just a bonus."

"Really?"

"Someday we're both going to be ugly again, but you'll still be the coolest chick I know."

"I don't deserve you, do I?" she asked, her voice catching. Was she wiping tears away?

"Not hardly."

~~~~~

I wasn't so happy with the dress, but I guess, objectively, it could have been worse. It was turquoise or aquamarine or teal or something like that, and it did its requisite job of highlighting her fine, pale skin and making her gorgeous green eyes pop, but it was also cut too short and showed more cleavage than I was comfortable with.

Gloria loved it, though, and reveled in the attention. All eyes were on her, and she was fearless in it. As I predicted, the old cliques formed, but she effortlessly navigated them all, and pulled me along every time.

As we walked over to the cool kids table, I felt her stiffen.

"We don't have to talk to these people," I said, squeezing her hand. "Don't be scared."

"I'm not," she said, and as I looked down, I realized she wasn't.

She was excited.

Everyone was cordial. There were air kisses and fake hugs all around, but as appreciative as Brad and Dave and the rest were to see Gloria, that's how much they looked annoyed to see me.

"Ulrich," Brad said to me, not offering his hand.

"Bradley," I replied, not extending mine either.

"Did we interrupt a conversation?" Gloria asked.

"Not really," Davita said wearily. She had married Brad somewhere along the line. Big surprise. "They're setting up the big poker game for later. You remember those, I'm sure. The boys were such the big time card sharks back then."

Oh, I remembered the big poker games, all right. They happened late Friday nights, and only the rich or cool people were asked to play. Is it a big surprise I hadn't attended? I was never invited, so, naturally, I'd always been dying to go.

"Rick plays poker," Gloria said. "Why don't you let him play?"

"Not for the faint of heart," Dave said. "I don't think he could hack it."

"Don't worry, I wasn't really asking," I said, but I was stinging a little inside. God, these guys were still assholes.

"He's a good..." Gloria started, but I nudged her a little with my foot to stop her. No need to ever let that cat out of the bag.

"For Christ's sake, what is wrong with you guys?" asked Davita. "It's a big buy in, Rick, five thousand dollars. They'll never budge on that, but if you have it, of course you can play."

"Says who?" Roger Mayhew asked.

"Says all of us," said a sweet-looking lady I assumed was his wife. "I agree with Davita. What's wrong with you guys?"

"I'm serious, it's no big deal," I said, embarrassed now.

"No, no," smirked Brad. "It'll be at 1:30 in room 615. If you can pony up the five, by all means. You'll probably need more, though, things can go south pretty quick. This game is for the big boys. I don't know. Maybe you can sell your car or something."

"Listen, dispirit, you have no idea what kind of car I..." I was starting to get hot. Because of Gloria's stalking, I knew where we both stood. He should have looked too. Maybe he would shut up, then.

"Hey, Bradley, not cool." Gloria snapped, now the one nudging me with her foot. "You apologize to my husband right now. You promised everybody would be nice tonight. Don't ruin it before the night even gets started."

I looked at her in surprise and saw Davita doing the same to Brad. He was glaring at Gloria, and she was looking decidedly uncomfortable.

"Have you two been in contact?" I asked.

"Well, yeah," she said, shuffling from foot to foot. Very unladylike. Davita looked interested, and Brad looked anywhere else but at us.

"Why?"

"I was just getting a heads up on who was going to be here."

"Oh, really?" Davita asked, but there was some subtext I wasn't getting.

"Yeah, well..." Gloria paused for a moment. "It was nice seeing everybody. We'll catch up later, okay?"

She pulled me away and we circulated some more, saying our hi's to other couples and groups. Gloria eventually got over her nervousness and became her usual, animated self. I think she was hoping it would all go away. I was mostly silent, fuming the whole time. Finally, I pulled her aside.

"What?" she asked, seeing the look on my face.

"Don't 'what' me. How come you never told me you were talking to him?"

"Well, Mr. High and Mighty, I wouldn't say we actually talked. We just chatted a little about the reunion. Anyway, it's no big deal. Do you tell me everybody you talk to every day?"

"Pretty much, especially if it's a woman. And especially if it was someone I hated who tortured me all through school. I don't get you."

"Jesus, Rick, people can say hi, you know. It's called the internet."

"I don't know what all this is," I said, "but you're not telling me something. We need to talk..."

"Oh, talk, talk talk," Gloria sang. "That's all we do is talk. Well, not now. This is my night. You will NOT ruin it by having a big hissy fit, you hear me?"

I just stared at her, perplexed. This was a side of her I'd never seen in ten plus years, even through the drunk stuff. To say I was a bit put off is putting it mildly.

"So..." she said, "Let's have a nice night. We can talk tomorrow until you're blue in the face. You will anyway."

I was about to explode and she could see it coming.

"Okay, okay...that was shitty. I admit it. Uncalled for," and then her voice softened. "Rick, I just talked to a few people to make sure they'd be here, is all. Now c'mon, let's you and I have fun and be the belles of the ball. This is our night to shine."

I was unconvinced, but I let her lead me out onto the dance floor. She looked outrageous in her dress, and we had a dance or two, but she seemed distracted. Normally when we danced, it was all me, but now she was continually looking around.

"Can we sit down?" she finally asked. "These heels are killing me."

"Sure," I said and led her to a table. Our drinks hadn't even arrived before Brad suddenly dropped in.

"Can I have this dance?" he asked her, pointedly ignoring me.

I was just about to tell him that she was tired when Gloria popped right up, giving him her hand.

"I'd love to," she said, leaving me sitting there without so much as a backward glance. I watched them for a while. She wasn't looking around anymore; now it was all him.

"Can I sit down?" I felt a hand softly touch my shoulder. I looked up to see Davita smiling down at me.

"Of course."

"Oh, you don't have to..." she said as I stood up to help her with her chair. "Why, thank you."

"Do you need a drink?"

"Got it," she said, waving her glass.

"Nice to see you again," I said politely.

"You too, Rick," she said, noticing my eyes glued to the dance floor.

"There's something going on there," I said.

"I think so," she agreed. "Unfinished business."

"How so?"

"She always had a big crush on him, everybody knew it."

"Well, I didn't. All I ever heard about was how horrible he was to her."

"All the girls knew," she said, frowning. "That was before you two got together, so why would you?"

"Why indeed?" I asked glumly.

"He found out, and of course he made her pay for it."

"What an asshole."

"Yes he was."

"Did you? Was everybody as awful as she says?"

"I'm not proud of it," she said, "but yes, we all did it."

"Why? Do you have any idea how much that's fucked up her whole life?"

"I know, I know." she said, wringing her hands. "We were a just a mob, like a pack of wolves picking on the weakest. I don't know why we did it. Everyone tries to sweep that garbage under the rug on nights like this, but I was hoping to apologize to her. For everything."

"Oh, nice."

"But I see she has her own agenda tonight."

"I agree." I said. "She hasn't felt the need to share it with me, other than saying it's her night, it's her night. What do you think it is, exactly?"

"I think..." she said, much too loudly because suddenly the music stopped for a moment as the song switched. Some deejay. We waited to see if the lovely couple would dance another.

Dance it they did. They only had eyes for each other. Their conversation was animated and looked very friendly, overly so.

"She's obviously gotten hot, when did that happen?"

"Uh...six or seven years ago now, I guess."

"Seven years? I don't get it. That's long enough to adjust. She should be more self-confident."

"She usually is. This is the first time we've seen anybody from back here, though," I said.

"Oh, that makes sense. Anyway, she's definitely beautiful now," Davita said. "And she wants everyone to notice. Especially Brad."

"Well, it seems to be working," I said gloomily. She wasn't exactly dirty dancing with him, but I wouldn't call it family-friendly either.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Davita said darkly.

"What do you mean?" I asked, turning towards her. "Has he..."

"Lots." she said, sadly. "I've caught on to him I don't know how many times. I've never actually busted him in the act, but I haven't tried that hard, honestly."

"On you." I said. "He's cheated on you. Excuse me, but I find that hard to believe. No one would do that. You're one of the most beautiful women I've ever met. You look better today than you did back then."

"Are you talking about these?" she chuckled and cupped her breasts, pushing them up to create some impressive cleavage. "Bet you never thought little DeeDee would end up with double D's, did you?"

"Um..." I said, not knowing what to say.

"You are just the sweetest," she said. "Don't you want to ask if they're real? How much they cost?"

"Uh, not really." I said. "It's none of my business and you're not my wife, so..."

"Now I have to tell you just to see how red you get." she said wickedly. "They're not really double D's, just D's, but they're real, and they're a hundred percent me."

"That's nice," I said, noncommittally.

"The good news about them is when I got pregnant, viola, there they were. Been with me ever since," she said. "That's why we got married. Getting pregnant, I mean."

"Oh," I said. "How old?"

"Now there, there's the bad news." she said. "I lost the baby before it came to term."

"Sorry."

"It's okay," she said, dismissively. "Long time ago. I got over it.

"But he's done it," She was back on the subject I hoped would go away, considering the scene in front of us. "Over and over."

"Then why do you stay with him?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said. "I guess it's because we were always expected to be together. I was kind've waiting for this reunion, seeing if we could ignite some old sparks, you know?"

"Yeah?"

"But it looks like he's interested in sparking somebody else."

"Yeah, my wife," I said, looking at the two of them now entwined much too close in a slow one. "Is his hand on her ass, you think?"

"I would say, technically, that it's still on her lower back," Davita said. "But want to cut in before it gets there?"

"That I would," I said, so we went to intercept them. They weren't talking anymore. Her head was on his chest in the classic romantic clutch. His face was buried in her hair. He could have been kissing the top of her head, for all I knew.

"Mind if I dance with my wife?" I asked, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Actually, I do," he smirked. "Why don't you beat it? You can have her back when I'm done."

"What do you think, SWEETHEART?" I asked Gloria. She didn't even open her eyes as she blatantly ignored me and snuggled into him a little tighter.

I was beginning to see red. I don't know why she felt she could publicly humiliate me this way, but it was getting to the point where I wouldn't be responsible for what I would say to her. We'd been standing there for a while now, and if I had to leave the dance floor without her, I was planning on leaving the room and maybe the hotel, too.

"Let go of his fucking WIFE, you asshole!" Davita shrieked as she slapped him in the back of his head, hard. They both started and broke apart, so I grabbed Gloria's hand and yanked her back to our table, none too gently, I might add.

"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed after we'd sat down. "How dare you embarrass me like that."

"Me. Embarrass you. That's a laugh." I said. "What are you playing at?"

"I'm not playing at anything." she sulked. "We were just dancing."

"That was not just dancing. I think it's time we left."

"What?" she yelled. "Just when I'm having fun, you pull the plug? Nuh uh. No fucking way."

"Gloria, the way you're disrespecting me, this is breakup stuff."

"Are you stupid?" she sputtered. "Our marriage can't handle a little flirting? Are you that insecure?"

"This is a helluva lot more than flirting, and you know it. It's embarrassing."

"Oh, big man can't take his wife being the center of attention. What a baby."

"Whatever."

"Babeeee," she sang. "Waa, waa, waa."

I just sat there, staring at her in stunned disbelief. What the hell was happening? Had she lost her fucking mind? Was she high? Had some sort of arrested development happened?

"Thank you," I heard her say as the server finally dropped off the drink order. I took a sip of mine and realized it was rum and coke. So, an explanation.

"Gloria, is this..."

"Yup, Cuba Libres, my favorite. Brad ordered them for me. I made sure you got one too. You're welcome."

"Ah, I get it now. How many have you had?"

"This is my first one, Sherlock. You've been with me all night long. When would I have had a chance?"

"Put that down. Right now. We're getting out of here."

I reached over to grab her hand and she pulled away, glaring at me.

"Gloria, what about your sobriety?"

"That's up to me. It's MY sobriety, not yours."

"Well then, what about our marriage? I'm warning you, you're pushing it, here."

"Listen, motherfucker," she hissed, baring her teeth. "When we said those vows, I don't remember them ever saying that you OWN me, okay? Quit being so overprotective. I can drink what I want, I can dance with whoever I want. This," she twirled her arms, indicating her body, "is mine, and I can do what I want with it. You can either hitch on for the ride or get out of my way."

"Finally, an easy choice," I said and got up out of my chair.

"No! Wait, wait!" she yelled, moving as if to get up and follow me. "Please sit back down. Please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

I didn't sit. I stood there looking down at her.

"Just let me have this, okay?" she pleaded, looking up at me hopefully. "Please?"

"If 'this' means you getting drunk and slutting all over other guys, no, I'm not letting you have it."

" 'Slutting?' 'Letting me?' " she yelled. "Who the FUCK do you think you are? 'Letting me,' Jesus."

"I'm your husband, in case you forgot. And what are you talking about?" I asked. "Those are your words. You just said it."

"Fuck off, do what you want," she snapped. "I'm staying."

"No, you fuck off, you do what YOU want," I snapped back. "I'm leaving."

So I left, but I didn't go far. I was out of the room for a minute, but then I came back and stood in the back for the next hour or so, watching her get more drunk, dirty dancing with all comers, but returning always to hang on Brad and Dave. Especially Brad.

Nobody talked to me for a long time. I think they were embarrassed for me and didn't know what to say. Who could blame them? But, after a while, Kenny Kirk and Roger Mayhew came by and bought me a beer. Kenny I remembered fondly, but I couldn't figure out why Roger would want to talk to me, since he was part of Brad's circle.

Until I looked around and couldn't find Gloria anywhere. She was gone.

~~~~~

I broke away from those two snakes and took the elevator up to our room, but of course she wasn't there. I sat there, shaking, and then decided, what the hell, and made my way to room 615. It was the only other room I knew.

Someone was in there all right, and they were fucking. I put my ear up to the door, but I couldn't tell who it was over the room noise. I banged on the door a couple times, but nobody answered. I decided to sit there and wait it out, feeling more foolish and heartsick as every minute went by. When a couple walked by and stared at me sitting on the floor, I realized I would be terribly embarrassed if it wasn't Gloria who came out, but if wasn't her, then where was she?

"Why don't we see what's going on in there, hmmm? Here, let me help you up."

I looked up to see Davita bending down, extending her hand.

"Where have YOU been," I groused as I let her take my hand.

"Doing homework. Plus, I had to get this," she said, waving a key card. "I'm not supposed to have it. This is the room for their big fucking game."

Inside was my dreaded expectation and worst nightmare come to life. There was Gloria, bent over a small, round table with her dress still on but pulled down in front and pushed up in back, tits slapping together, her face red and scrunched into her beginning of orgasm smile that used to be only mine. And there was Brad, pumping away, hair damp from sweat and the most superior look of satisfaction on his face. They didn't even notice when I walked in.

Who should I kill first? Brad was a cheating dick, but Gloria...ah, Gloria, I thought, you were supposed to be my one and only, my true love, and now this. Betrayal. We would never find our way back from this, never. We would never have our kids. Never grow old together.

But she was drunk. Way drunk. Drunk off her ass. This might not be her fault. Oh, being a slutty attention whore, all her fault, but this, was this my fault because I hadn't protected her, no matter how shitty she had been to me? Wasn't I supposed to defend her, regardless? Shouldn't I have pulled her out of that situation, no matter how mad she got? This wouldn't be happening now if I had, if I hadn't been moping.