“‘We gotta’? Aren’t you the expert on next moves?”
“Abbs, what have I been saying? You know I need your girl guidance.”
I watch out the window as the shaded and gated mansions on Los Feliz Boulevard fly past us on our way to Hollywood. It still seems like a miracle I could be someone anyone goes to for girl advice.
“Be nice,” I tell him. “Don’t pull your weird bro stuff on her.”
“I’m always nice,” he says, and I laugh and roll my eyes.
“I’m really not an expert,” I say. “But being nice feels sort of obvious, right?”
He makes a face but I’m fairly certain he agrees.
“It’s weird you can … just get a girlfriend, and still it’s not like anyone swings by to tell you how it’s supposed to go,” I say.
“Some lesbian fairy godmother?” Jax asks.
“Exactly. Instead I’ve just got you and Mal, and you’re hopeless and Mal thinks Jordi’s a criminal.”
“I’ve got great advice,” he says. “Just be nice.”
“It’s weird that Jordi and I are, like, competitors,” I say. “I mean, I still really want to win and get the job and all of that.”
“Yeah, who wouldn’t?”
“Someone nice? I don’t know.”
“You can get the girl and the job, Abbs,” he says, and I feel good for like a half-second before thinking about the fact that these comforting words are coming from my bro friend, spawn of a Silicon Valley app-running man.
And maybe you can get the girl and the job, but can you be nice, too, on top of all of it?
But, also, I don’t really have to dwell on it today. Within a few minutes, we’re in the long, snaking drive-thru line to the Hollywood In-N-Out, and even though it always looks like it’ll take hours to get food, before we know it, we’re parked in the lot scarfing down Animal-style burgers with fries and milkshakes. It’s sort of a stereotype of a California day, but what a great stereotype.
Since I’m wearing semi-responsible shoes (floral patterned Adidas that look perfect with my bright blue dress), and we’re basically over here anyway, I suggest walking around the Hollywood Reservoir. Jax whines a little but then agrees, and before long, we’re on the path in Lake Hollywood Park. It’s flatter than the Silver Lake Reservoir, which is a lot closer to my neighborhood, but it’s longer and I know will take us a big chunk of our mid-afternoon. Maliah and I always manage to talk the entire way around, but I feel less urgency to fill every silence with Jax.
I guess I thought that friendship was something you’d always need in one specific way, but it basically goes without saying that my friendship with Jax is nothing like mine with Maliah, and somehow not in a way that makes it worse … or even better. It’s just its own thing.
I come to Lemonberry the next day with my notebook of ideas tucked into my pocket. (All truly great dresses have pockets.) I’ve yet to solve the riddle of being a great girlfriend while landing the job, so in my other pocket is a little Hello Kitty sticker. I found it while attempting to organize a pile of crafty stuff Rachel and I had been accumulating for years now. I’d texted to make sure Rachel didn’t mind the organization, as we used to fall asleep while discussing our grand plans for our collection of fabrics, glitter, stickers, and other items we deemed spectacular enough to save. But her only response was a delayed No, why would I care?
Paige is manning the front of the store, and Maggie’s not in yet, so it’s just Jordi and me in the back room. I resist kissing her (unprofessional), but I do press the sticker into her palm. Her hand is warm and I think about it against mine, or on my body (also unprofessional, if I’m being fair).
She examines it and smiles her slow Jordi smile as Maggie walks in and directly over to her.
“Good morning, girls.”
“Good morning,” I say in my brightest, cheeriest voice (professional?).
“Jordi, we got a couple of new pairs of shoes in yesterday,” she says. “Would you mind taking some shots for the site and for Instagram?”
She, of course, agrees, and heads out to the sales floor. My hand goes into my pocket and clasps around my notepad of ideas.
“I thought we could maybe do a hashtag of—” I stop myself because it sort of seems like I started in the middle and not the beginning. “I had some thoughts on Instagram, and—”
“That’s great, Abby,” Maggie says, though does it ever feel great getting interrupted? “I thought you could update inventory for online orders. Let’s try to find time to talk about Instagram and everything else later, okay?”
“But …” I don’t mean to glance toward the sales floor as if I have X-ray vision and can watch Jordi work, but I realize my face is pointed in that direction anyway.
“I know, it seems like Jordi’s getting the fun, easy work, but this is so valuable to me, and I honestly always have fun doing it. I love seeing what people are buying most.”
“It’s not about fun,” I manage to say, and it’s true. Everything at Lemonberry is pretty fun. Even steaming dresses, potentially the most boring task on the planet, feels like magic when dresses go from wrinkly messes to flowing works of fashion. “I just know that you liked all my social media stuff when I interviewed, so …”
Maggie smiles right at me, in that special way that convinces you that you’re her whole world. No matter how untrue you know it is.
“I love your social media stuff, Abby. But ultimately the internship is about helping out where we need it, and today that’s inventory. We’ll find time to talk soon, though, okay?”
I nod, not just because I’m still in the glow of her smile, but because I also can see that she’s right. Before the summer started, I wouldn’t have thought there were so many parts
