Beautiful Together (24 page)

"What the hell is stopping you from trying, Naomi?" His eyes cut right into mine, heavy, powerful hazel orbs that almost hurt. Jesse had instantly reached a level of intensity I hadn't anticipated.

"
I don't know
," I mumbled, feeling a bit disoriented. "I don't know what to do."

"You're hiding because it seems too big. And if you keep seeing it as an insurmountable feat, you'll never get over it. I mean, you can only do a little bit at a time. We had the same problem when we started coding. But when we reduced it to 'one day at a time' instead of 'how the hell are we going to finish a huge program like this,' we finally got somewhere."

His words cut deep into my heart. "Well, I... I did talk to Arielle's cousin about veterinary school," I said, blindly muttering the words, hoping that they would somehow make me feel like less of a failure. "She's about to graduate. I don't know if I really want to do that or not, but I might."

"That's perfect," he said, his tone upbeat and positive. "Run with that. Research schools. Volunteer at an animal shelter to see if you really like the work. You're totally capable, Naomi. You were one of the smartest people in our whole school."

"Yeah, until I started smoking pot," I said pathetically.

"Oh, whatever. It's not the weed, you're just not trying. I'm sure you've still got it. There are tons of opportunities in NYC. Probably more than anywhere else in the world."

"Yeah." I stared off into space, struggling to process all that he was saying. It was way more than I had expected.

His fingers twitched, reminding me of our tactile connection again. "I'm getting carried away again," Jesse said. "It's not like you asked me to be your life coach or something. And I'm not even certified to do that anyway." He paused and smiled. "I think we should get out of here and do something fun."

"Like what?" I asked, still reeling from his trenchant analysis of my messy life.

"Let's go to Buckingham Palace. Maybe we can catch the changing of the guards." I watched him try to read my numb expression, which obviously wasn't giving him much to work with. "I mean... if you've got time or whatever."

I sat for a moment and then looked down at my cell phone—almost two hours had already passed. I realized how good it felt to have a short break from
The Wild World of Arielle
.

Maybe this
would
be fun, a genuine change of pace. "Yeah, sure," I said. "Let's go exploring. I've got plenty of time." I shot him a wry grin. "It's not like I have a curfew."

Jesse laughed. "Great. This is my only day off on this trip, so I could really use a break."

"Me too," I said. "I haven't been working, but we have been partying pretty hard."

"That'll do it."

We bussed our table and then headed out into the London air. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining, the temperature mild and comfortable. After heading into the Tube station, we went straight to Buckingham Palace. But to our dismay, we already missed the ceremony.

"Shit," Jesse complained. "Well, I guess I should have looked it up before dragging us all the way here."

I smiled. "It's fine. At least we got to
see
the guards."

We were against the fence in front of Buckingham Palace, staring at the four guards on duty. They were standing totally still, wearing their iconic red coats and tall bearskin caps. Suddenly, the one closest to us sprang into motion and did his exaggerated march down the square and back again.

I jumped a little as it happened, feeling like I had witnessed a statue coming to life. "I didn't expect him to move," I said to Jesse, clutching his arm.

He laughed. "I don't think they stand still for more than ten minutes."

We stayed for a few more minutes, satisfied with what we had seen. However, right as we were about to leave, there was a loud cackle of laughter from a group of tourists who weren't speaking English. They were teenagers, goofing around loudly and climbing on the fence.

"Oh, shit," Jesse said, motioning toward them. "They'd better stop screwing around. Those guys don't mess around."

Just as he said it, the guard suddenly moved, rotating his rifle from one shoulder to the other. The offenders still didn't stop.

"What's gonna happen?" I asked, suddenly feeling terrified.

"Those are loaded weapons," Jesse said softly. "I guess I don't know. I sure hope they stop."

Still, they continued jumped around, behaving rambunctiously. The guard remained laser-focused on them, stone-faced, unfazed, rifle resting against his arm.

Suddenly, he stomped his feet, and raised his rifle toward the group. My heart skipped a dozen beats.

"Stay off the fence!" he screamed.

Would he actually
shoot
them?

The teens shouted fearfully and scattered in all directions. The guard returned the rifle to his shoulder, and relief hit me like a cold shower on the hottest day of the year.

"Oh my God," I said, totally out of breath, clutching Jesse's arm. I didn't even remember grabbing him, yet here I was, face stuck to his shoulder like my skin was covered in super glue.

"Well, I certainly didn't expect to see
that
," he said soberly.

"Would he have... actually shot them?"

Jesse stood for a moment, expression stoic. "I don't think so. Probably would have arrested them, though. He could have done that, I'm sure."

"Still, he was pointing a gun! At basically kids!" I chided.

"They take their jobs seriously," Jesse said. "And they were being assholes. They probably learned their lesson."

I shrugged my shoulders and pulled away from him. "Let's get going before someone else starts causing trouble," I said. "I feel like I just chugged a hundred shot espresso." I breathed in the cool air and looked away from the bright sun.

"Adrenaline is much cheaper than coffee," Jesse laughed. He put his arm around my shoulder as we walked away from the action. Of all the things I could have witnessed, it was a member of the Queen's Guard pointing a loaded rifle at a group of rowdy teens.

Insane.

Leaving the excitement of Buckingham Palace behind us, we got on another train and headed to the Shoreditch area, wandering through the shops near Amy's place. After digging through music in a record store for a while—oddly enough, even after all this time apart Jesse and I still seemed to have similar tastes in music—we ended up in a Chinese tea store, sipping oolong tea in an unfamiliar ritual.

We sat on tiny wooden benches around a prep area with an electric kettle. The woman leading the ritual kept interminably pouring us tiny cupfuls of tea steeped from the same leaves every time, telling us that we'd be able to pick up different flavors every time.

While I didn't believe her assertions at first, once I had my second sip, I knew she was right—it
did
taste different every time, sometimes with floral hints, other times more bitter or sweet, sometimes milder overall.

We kept drinking and drinking until we finally realized that she was going to keep pouring tea until we actually left. The woman seemed so sad to see us go, even though we didn't buy anything and drank twenty cups of free tea.

And after consuming that much liquid, we had to sneak into a coffee shop bathroom before we could go any farther.

Our conversation flowed so naturally; so reminiscent of the old days that it made me forget that those times were so long ago.

Even more than before, I couldn't figure it out. Why
did
things fall apart? I hadn't had this much fun in years, and that was so obvious it almost made me sick.

As we walked past a tiny art house theater, Jesse suddenly stopped abruptly, his mouth agape, like he had run face first into an invisible wall.

"Holy shit. Oh. My. God." His neck cranked backward at an almost unnatural angle.

I stared back at him, thoroughly confused. "What? Is somebody
else
pointing a loaded gun at kids?"

"Look at that marquee," he said, excitedly pointing above him. "Naomi, look at what's playing tonight!"

I stared up at the sign:

Retro Horror Month Continues:

Tonight @ 7PM—Blood Lake

"
Blood Lake?
" I asked quizzically. "That sounds
really
familiar."

Jesse grabbed my shoulders, his expression both pained and happy. "Naomi,
that's
the movie! The one we watched before Halloween! I can't believe it's playing here right now. God, of all the possible horror films they could have been playing." He grinned. "
Boob Lake
, remember?"

It took me a second to catch up with his flurry of words, but the joke at the end made it clear that he was right. "Whoa, seriously?" I asked. I tried to picture the DVD case, but my mind was still blank.

"Look at the poster!" he said, pointing at the wall. "Look!"

It hit me like a freight train—yep, that was it, all right. Those blood-soaked words oozing down the front. The movie, all right.
Our last movie.
Back when times were more innocent, when life was so much simpler. It was like we had stepped into a time machine.

"Okay, we're definitely going," I said. "What time is it now?"

"It starts in two hours," he said, looking at his phone. "I say we grab dinner and then get our asses back here ASAP."

"Yeah, yeah, that sounds good."

What I had expected to be nothing but an awkward and brief coffee shop chat session had become something far more substantial and meaningful, an afternoon of adventure and inimitable nostalgia.

This was one hell of a day—and it was only dinner time.

"I cannot believe this," he said, shaking his head. "While we're both in London too."

I looked back at him, unable to hide my own big smile. He just looked... so handsome. Jesse had become a man since we last watched that movie. His facial hair was so much denser now. I remembered glancing at it periodically throughout the movie when we were sixteen, shocked that he wasn't so young anymore
then
.

Now he was a college graduate with a hot, blossoming business venture, visiting London on investor money. Things were
very
different.

And despite my own general apathy toward self-progress, I didn't feel so inadequate in that moment. Regardless of what I was doing externally—and whether or not it actually amounted to anything—I felt whole.

Next to my old friend and confidante, I felt like a person. A real person.

"Let's find a place to eat," Jesse said, interrupting my dreamy train of thoughts.

"Of course." I was actually starting to get hungry again after consuming so much caffeine. My heart rate was still elevated.

Our arms locked together, we strolled down the sidewalks, perusing signs, looking for a great place for dinner. "How fancy do you wanna get?" Jesse asked.

"It doesn't have to be
that
fancy," I said. "I don't want to break the bank over a single meal."

"I'll take care of it," he said. "Don't worry about it. And this is a special occasion, after all."

"You don't have to," I pleaded. "I mean, I have my own money too."

We split up to dodge a noisy group of college guys who didn't even seem to notice us and reconnected after they were behind us. "It's a business expense," Jesse said with a wry smile. "And I'll get reimbursed if I save the receipts. We have a high per diem for food every day. Some of the guys have been getting
really
nice dinners."

I laughed. "So
that's
why you're willing to pay," I said playfully. "It's not that you're a gentleman—you just want the expense write-off. Typical Jesse Evans. Just the way I remember you."

"Hey, that's not true at all," he said defensively. "I paid for us both sometimes."

"I'm kidding," I said. "But it's still funny to hear you act like such a... professional."

"Well, get used to it," he said cockily. "Dolphin is taking over the e-commerce world!"

"I sincerely hope you do," I added warmly.

After circling a few blocks, we finally settled on a French restaurant that had a good Yelp rating. Restaurants were so ubiquitous on some of the blocks that it was nearly impossible to make a choice. So Jesse whipped out his phone and did some quick research.

We ended up drinking two bottles of wine—Jesse's suggestion, but I was perfectly fine with it—and eating plenty of cheese and bread and olive tapenade prior to our meals arriving. I got duck confit and Jesse got steak frites.

Everything was ridiculously tasty, and paired with the wine it was out of this world. And then we shared créme brûlée for dessert.

"This is so good," he kept moaning between bites.

"I know," I said. "This is one of the best meals I've ever had."