Life, Friends, and Being Grown-Ups

 

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Things You Shouldn't Ask In Public

 

Abbie practically flew to Owen’s apartment. She was jumping out of her skin with excitement, could barely hold it in enough to remember to lock her car and figure out how to unlock the front door of Owen’s place. Once she got inside, she saw that the living room was dark. It really wasn’t that late, was it?

She picked her way across the room, carefully avoiding tripping over the clothes and books and pizza boxes strewn about everywhere. After successful navigation of the living room, Abbie found herself in the main hall. Even though it was dark, she knew this apartment like the back of her hand and she found her way to the closed bedroom door in almost no time. 

She threw the door open. “OWEN!”

Uuuuugh,” a voice that did not belong to Owen said. “S’too’rly. G’way.”

“Shh, go back to sleep,” Owen said sleepily. “I’ll be right back.” There was a rustling sound and footsteps and then Owen was right in front of Abbie. “What’s up, Abbs?”

Abbie grabbed Owen by the wrist and dragged him into the kitchen. She flicked off the light, suppressing a laugh when he winced and scrunched up his face. “I have a thing to tell you. But I want you to be awake all the way.”

Owen frowned. “How much awaker do I have to be?”

“Awake enough to know that ‘awaker’ isn’t a word,” Abbie decided. “And maybe open your eyes a little instead of just squinting at me.”

After a moment, Owen complied, blinking slowly a few times as he adjusted to the light. “Okay, okay, awaker not a word. Now spill.”

“Ken proposed,” Abbie said, grinning.

“He what?!” Owen replied loudly.

“He proposed,” repeated Abbie. She was bouncing with excitement. “He proposed he proposed he proposed!”

“Ken proposed, I take it,” said Owen. 

Abbie giggled. “He did! It kind of doesn’t even feel like it really happened, though. Like, I’m kind of just expecting to wake up or something. Pinch me?”

“Nah,” Owen replied. “This is for real.”

“I’ll say,” a familiar voice said behind Abbie. She turned around and saw Zoe standing in the kitchen doorway. She was leaning on the doorframe, clad only in a too-large t-shirt that Abbie was pretty sure belonged to Owen and some fraying shorts. She waved, or more accurately wiggled her fingers vaguely in Abbie’s direction. “Heya. Y’do realise tha’ s’like two’n th’ mornin’, yeah?”

“How wonderfully articulate, Zo,” Owen commented.

Zoe rolled her eyes. “Middle of the nigh’. I don’ have t’be good’a words.”

“Thank God you’re a scientist and not a writer,” said Owen.

“Seconded,” Abbie said.

Zoe waved at them vaguely again. “M’onna go call Kenny. An’, uh, congrats, Abbie.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” said Abbie, smiling more.

Zoe slid backward out of the room, disappearing into the dark hallway.

That’s new,” Abbie said, gesturing toward the doorway that Zoe had just vacated. “Isn’t it?”

Owen shrugged. “S’not important right now.” Oh, it totally is. “Ken proposed.”

“You have to be my maid of honour,” said Abbie, elbowing her best friend. “I know it’s been all of an hour since Ken asked me to marry him, but it’s never too soon to start making plans.”

“Will I have to wear a dress?” Owen asked, brows furrowed.

“Maybe,” replied Abbie. “Haven’t thought about it, like, at all. Maybe. I mean, y’know that Zo’s gonna wear a tux to be Ken’s best man -“

“Since when is Zoe -?”

“Think on that for a second, Wendy,” Abbie said. “Thiiiiink about it. They’ve been friends forever, yeah? And Ken’s got family, fine, yeah, but he likes Zoe better.” She leaned in close to Owen. “And I like you better’n mine, y’know. So will you do it? Will you be my maid of honour? Pleeeeeeease?”

Owen smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, Babs, I will. ‘Course I will.”

Zoe reappeared in the kitchen door then. “Abbie, do you want to stay over? It’s two-thirty, you’re probably t-tired.” She yawned. “Really oughtn’t to drive home now, eh? Why don’t you go take the couch?”

Abbie nodded. “Yeah, thanks, Zoe.”

“C’mon, Oh-wen,” Zoe said, dragging out the syllables of his name like each was its own word. “I wanna go back to bed, an’ if you don’t come with me now you’ll wake me up when you come in and we have work tomorrow.”

“Right, that’s a thing,” Owen said. 

Zoe crossed the room, grabbed Owen by the hand, kissed Abbie on the cheek, and started back toward the hall. “Good night, Gail. Congrats again.”

Abbie flicked off the kitchen lights as she left and then stumbled back out to the living room before flopping face first onto the couch. 

What a day.

--

On the other side of the wall

“Keeeeenny,” Zoe greeted when her friend picked up his phone.

“Zooooooe,” replied Ken sleepily.

“Abbie just woke me’n Owen up to tell Owen that you proposed to her.”

“I didn’t propose to Owen.”

“No, Abbie.”

“Yeah, I just did that, like, an hour ago.”

“I know, idiot. Were you sleeping or are you intoxicated?”

“Li’l’a both.”

“Yeah, yeah, I can tell, love.”

“Why is Abbie at your house?”

“Abbie’s not at my house, I’m at Owen’s.” Zoe picked up a book off the top of the dresser by the door and flipped through it with mild interest before setting it back down again.

“Why are you at Owen’s?”

“Why do you think I’m at Owen’s, sugar?”

“B’you don’t do that.”

“We were sleeping, just sleeping. Which you should go back to doing yourself, you’re hardly making sense.”

“Okay. G’night, Zoo.”

“Nightie night, Kenny. Congrats on the marriage thing.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks, sweetie.”

Zoe hung up and dropped her phone back onto the dresser. She slipped back out to the kitchen, where she was pretty sure that Owen and Abbie were discussing Owen wearing dresses. She figured that conversation needed stopping, it’s too late to discuss cross dressing.

If it’s really that important, they can talk about it over breakfast.

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Don't Apologise (they won't believe you)

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