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Angela walks over to their table with three beers in hand, using one to point accusingly toward Celina who motions toward herself with one finger as if to ask,
who me?
“Listen here, Rookie,” she says, passing Nyla a beer but holding Celina’s hostage as she speaks. “Normally we would never invite a rookie to happy hour.
Never.
Because you could still wash out and we don’t want to get too attached, you know?”
“Uh…” Celina says, raising one eyebrow.
Angela continues on, ignoring her.
“But here’s the thing. You have to
live with one of them,
so I know you must be about to go out of your goddamn mind. In light of that, we decided to make an exception for you tonight.”
Celina winces.
“It’s not
that bad…”
she tries, but Angela shakes her head, making an “uh uh” noise as she takes a long sip of beer.
“Yes it is, don’t fucking lie.”
Celina pauses, considering, and then deflates, nearly dropping her head to the table as she gives up pretending she isn’t about to lose her ever-loving mind. “Oh my god, it
is
that bad. It’s actually
so much worse
than you know.”
Angela hands her the beer, satisfied, and Celina takes a long drink as she leans back in her chair.
The bar around them is loud but not too loud, busy and full of chatter and laughter and people having fun together. It’s not a cop bar, not a place any of the usual suspects frequent, and so none of them are worried about being overheard.
Angela wishes she were having fun like the rest of the patrons around them, but alas, she’s stuck between two dumbasses who are trying to convince themselves they’re not completely in love with each other and that they're
over their breakup.
“Tell us about it,” Nyla requests, leaning back with her beer and draping her arm over the empty chair next to her. “Tell your mommas what’s wrong, little rookie.”
Celina chuckles and then takes another long pull of her beer as she tries to figure out where to begin.
“She still has all of his things, did you know that?” she finally says, sighing as she flings both arms out in frustration, her beer sloshing over the rim of her bottle and onto her hand. She doesn’t even care (or notice), and continues talking, her voice raising in pitch as she really gets going. “We share a bathroom, it’s not like she can hide his stuff from me. I tried to move Tim’s shower gel once and she nearly came unglued. Given, this was in the early days when things were still really fresh, but you’d better believe I haven’t touched that goddamn bottle since then, or his toothbrush. I’ve never seen anyone get so defensive about body wash before, damn.”
Angela winces as she rests her lips on the rim of her beer.
It’s worse than she’d imagined, then.
They’re at threat level midnight, for sure.
Celina sucks in a breath and keeps going.
“And Tim got her all of these little gifts while they were together. Sentimental things, you know? A… a trophy that says ‘17st Place’ and
yes
you heard me right.
17st.
With a marker because it originally said 1st place. And then there’s her radio that was shot, and a card with Kojo’s footprint in it and the
necklace.
He’s actually really sweet, you know that? Like those are
god tier
gifts. He’s… it’s hard to see him as a tough ass TO when I know he gave Lucy a trophy that says fucking
17st Place
for the detectives exam. And they’re in her room, on her desk. She won’t move them and she just
… looks
at them sometimes and it looks she wants to cry but she holds it together somehow."
Nyla hums as she stands, holding up one hand.
“This is … heart wrenching. We need more alcohol. Hold on.”
Celina pauses to suck in a deep breath while running a hand through her hair. She counts to ten and then back down to zero as she waits, and then downs one of the tequila shots Nyla comes back with before continuing.
“Thank you. Anyway, it’s… it’s… there’s this
cloud
that follows her around. And her
aura?
She is
not
over that breakup. She just…”
Angela interrupts here, raising her own tequila shot to clink against Nyla’s before downing it.
“She’s just found a way to
pretend
that she is,” she murmurs.
Nyla pushes a second shot toward Celina, knowing that the rookie could use it.
“She wants to keep Tim in her life in whatever way she can, and she knows if she can’t get past the breakup she loses him altogether, so…”
Silence falls over the table as the three women feel the weight of the breakup.
The breakup that isn't even theirs.
“I was so happy when they finally started dating, you know?” Angela murmurs, sighing as she circles the rim of her shot glass with her finger, the alcohol making her maudlin. “Tim deserves to be happy. Lucy, too, of course. But you know Tim has been my best friend for forever. And that man has been through
hell
with… with everything. He deserves to be happy, but then he had to go and shoot himself in the
goddamn foot.”
Celina sighs.
“When I first met him, his aura was so dark. So… angry, sad. I kept a
safe
distance from him,” she murmurs, remembering the way the man had smiled despite the lingering sadness surrounding him. “And then Lucy’s light… it started to break away at that. He started to be
happier,
and the darkness went away.”
She downs a third shot and fights the burning in her eyes that’s equal to the burning in her throat.
“The darkness is back,” she whispers, eyes on the table. “It’s different, though. It’s not as tortured, but it’s
sad.
It’s so goddamn
sad.”
Nyla hums.
“You know I don’t believe in all that mumbo jumbo,” she says, raising her shot glass at Celina in apology before downing it. “Auras and star signs and all that bullshit. But in this case, I think that you hit the nail right on the head.”
“It’s just… it’s so
frustrating
how they both pretend they’re okay,” Angela says, growling low in her throat as she eyes the empty tray of shots in front of her. “The pictures in Lucy’s locker? She
covered his face with magnets and sticky notes.”
“That
actually may be a good thing,” Celina points out, and then elaborates when twin eyebrows are raised in her direction. “Magnets and sticky notes aren’t permanent. If she
truly
hated him, she would have cut his face out. And if she were
truly
over the breakup, she’d remove the magnets and sticky notes altogether, because then it would just be a picture with her
friend.
The … the
temporary
coverings show that she’s not over the breakup, but that she also hasn’t written him off completely.”
“So you’re saying… there’s still hope?” Angela asks.
Celina nods, beginning to feel the alcohol a little bit as her vision swims.
“I mean,
I
think so. She kept all his things. I know when I broke up with my ex, I burned his stuff.”
Nyla snorts. “I’ve done that before, too. For the more amicable breakups, I’ve returned them. But I’ve never
kept
all of an ex’s things. I've never started at them longingly."
Angela nods slowly in agreement. “Right. And she’s not
hiding
them, either. They’re still out in the open, so … it kind of feels like she hasn’t given up, right?”
Celina nods quickly, the floaty feeling of being a little bit tipsy making the words come easier.
“Exactly.
It’s all
temporary.
She didn’t burn or return his things, they aren’t shoved in the back of the closet, his face is only covered in sticky notes. It’s like she’s in
limbo,
waiting.”
Angela sits up straight in her chair, so suddenly that the whole table moves and the shot glasses clank together. “She’s waiting for him!"
Celina laughs, her cheeks red. “That’s what I
just said.”
“Don’t get cute with me, Juarez. I can still kick you out of happy hour. You’re still a
rookie,”
Angela warns. “But I mean she’s waiting for him to… he’s going to therapy, you know? Oops, I maybe shouldn’t have told you guys that.”
Nyla waves a hand. “I knew, you didn’t betray his trust or anything.”
Celina grimaces. “I didn’t, but I will never ever tell him I know, I swear on my abuela’s grave.”
Angela swallows the last sip of her beer and continues, leaning forward to share her revelation at a whisper. “He’s going to therapy. He’s trying to
get better.
For
her.
I mean for himself, too, but he might have never taken that step if it weren't for her."
Nyla hums and Celina places a hand over her heart, swooning.
“That’s so romantic. They truly
are
star-crossed lovers.”
Angela snorts. “I don’t know about all that. And I doubt they’ve talked about it or anything, because fuckin’ Bradford is allergic to talking. But maybe she’s hopeful. And maybe that’s enough for us to work with.”
Celina leans in, her eyes sparkling.
“Work with how?”
Nyla drums her fingertips together dramatically. “I can say without a shadow of a doubt that they still love each other. Everyone in that station
knows
they do. It’s so goddamn obvious, I want to slap them both upside the heads
daily.
Tim didn’t break up with her because he doesn’t love her, he did it because he doesn’t love himself. But if he’s going to therapy, if he’s getting better or whatever…”
Angela takes over, waving her hand excitedly to cut Nyla off. “Then maybe once he’s in a better place, if Lucy is open to the idea… then we can
nudge
them back together.”
Celina squeals excitedly as she wiggles in her seat.
“She’s waiting for him to be in a better place! Oh, I
knew
they were true soulmates. Even though she’s hurting, she knows
he
is, too, and she’s holding onto his things because she’s hoping he’ll come back once he’s healed. It’s so
romantic.”
She’s practically
swooning
as she speaks, and Angela and Nyla laugh at her as she sighs happily.
“They
have
seemed more friendly, recently,” Nyla muses, leaning back in her chair as she nibbles on one of the lime slices that had come with their shots. “At first they couldn’t even
look
at each other. Now they’re making bets and … and
smiling.
Maybe they’ll get back together on their own.”
Angela snorts inelegantly, the sound tearing from her throat as she props her feet up on the empty seat beside Celina.
“Yeah,
that’s
not going to happen. It took them
five
years to get together in the first place. We definitely need to intervene.”
Nyla concedes with a shrug and then holds up a hand.
“All right. We need more shots, and then we can strategize. I’m also gonna get some mozzarella sticks for the table because if I puke in Wesley’s car he’ll never offer to drive us home again. Anything else?”
“Ooooh what about some fried mushrooms?” Celina asks.
Nyla narrows her eyes. “You’re on thin ice, Rookie, but since you’ve had
valuable
insight tonight, I’ll get your damn mushrooms.”
Angela chuckles and leans her head over the back of the chair to shout, “Hurry up! We have
planning
to do!”
Celina cackles and Nyla flips Angela off as she walks toward the bar, and after more beers and finger foods are ordered, Angela whips out her phone.
“All right. What’s the plan?”
_______________________
Tim groans as he drops to the bed beside Lucy, pushing the fingers of one hand through his sweaty hair as he gasps, trying to catch his breath.
“That was…”
Lucy giggles and drapes her sweaty, sated body over his, her chin resting on his chest as she runs one hand up and down his stomach, playing with the hairs leading down the vee of his thighs.
“As good as you remember?”
Tim growls and flips them, pinning Lucy to the bed with his body.
“Better.”
Lucy laughs as Tim captures her lips, kissing her softly as he caresses her body, running up and down her side, down her hip and between her parted thighs.
“You know, Angela and Nyla and Celina cornered me in the locker room today,” she murmurs, and Tim grumbles something along the lines of
don’t talk about our friends while my hand is between your legs
but Lucy ignores him. “I told them
I’m so over the breakup
but they didn’t look like they believed me.”
Tim grunt and pauses the line of kisses he’s trailing down her neck.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his mood immediately shifting as he’s reminded of their breakup. “I…”
Lucy doesn’t let him continue, though, cutting off the negative train of thought before it can truly take hold.
She has
plans
for him that don’t involve more apologizing.
“You already said sorry,” she murmurs, one hand sliding up his sweaty back to tangle in the fluffy hair at the top of his head. “You’ve made amends, you’ve put in the work, and I’m not interested in making you grovel anymore.”
Tim hums and presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“I love you, you know.”
Lucy flushes, even though he’s said the words a hundred times before.
“I love you, too.”
Tim succeeds in distracting her with kisses for a long moment, but eventually Lucy returns to her earlier train of thought.
“We should tell them.”
“Absolutely not,”
Tim grunts, biting down on the skin of her neck, not hard enough to leave a mark but hard enough to
sting.
“I want you all to myself for a little bit longer.”
Lucy laughs, the sound high and light in the darkness of her bedroom.
“They looked so
sad
for me, though.”
“Tough.”
“I don’t know how much longer I can lie convincingly,” she tries, and Tim sighs as he drops his forehead into the crook of her neck.
“If we agree to tell them
soon,
can you stop talking about them so that I can get back to what I was doing earlier?”
He reminds her exactly what he was doing with a quick flick of his wrist, and Lucy moans before nodding frantically.
“Yes, good plan. Please, continue.”
Tim laughs, pressing a kiss to the underside of Lucy’s jaw before he begins trailing a path down her body with his lips.
He knows their friends will figure out that they’ve kissed and made up soon, but for now, he has
much
more pressing things to attend to.