Read Bliss Online

Authors: Shay Mitchell

Bliss (31 page)

Demi laughed. It seemed genuine. “It's nice to see them, and you.”

“This is going well!” said Sophia. “I thought it'd be nice if we had a meal together. Okay? Weirdness over? Good. Now we can have some fun together, like old times.”

Leandra smiled. Did Sophia really want to dig around in the past? What would be the point? They were adults with real lives, not kids in school with their petty grievances and jealousies. Leandra was too evolved and sophisticated to hold a grudge. She just didn't particularly like Demi. The feeling was mutual. But, if push came to shove, they'd stand up for each other. That was what old friends did.

“I can't believe I've been here for two weeks already and we haven't gotten together yet.”

“I know. It's not like Toronto when we lived in each other's pockets.”

“I've been so busy with Harris, going to dinners and parties. We had drinks last night with Jenna Jameson.”

“The porn star?”

“She's very sweet in real life. Not a skank at all. She's thinking about doing a cameo in Harris's next movie.”

“What's it about?”

“It's a love triangle. Passion, glamour, but deep emotion.” That was the extent of what she knew of the project. Harris had been throwing tantrums about production costs and locations for weeks. Whenever he whined about his work, she tuned out. Truth be told, she was a tiny bit embarrassed by how upset he could get. His company made web originals, not
real
movies. How worked up could anyone get about some low-budget flick that went straight to pay-per-view? Leandra wasn't exactly sure how his indie movies could make as much money as they apparently did, judging by his house, cars, and credit card bills. Then again, Harris came from money, as he told her ten times a day.

Fresh out of names to drop, Leandra turned the conversation around to them. “How are you two doing as roomies?” she asked. In school, the three of them fantasized about getting their own house, with enough room for all of their boyfriends, even though only one of them, Sophia, was in love at the time. Now, only Sophia and Demi lived in an apartment somewhere, while Leandra lived with her love in a mansion. Life was so wonderfully unpredictable.

The two of them gazed down at their empty plates as if an appropriate and polite answer to her question could be found there. So being roomies wasn't a nonstop party? Something was definitely amiss. Leandra couldn't help relishing the tense moment.

Finally, Sophia said, “We're like family. We fight, and we make up.”

Demi flagged down a waiter. “Can we order drinks, please?” she asked him. They each got a house margarita with Espolón Blanco tequila, and housemade limonade and scanned the menu. As usual, Leandra hunted for the most expensive item and ordered that. In this case, a ribeye steak with a lobster tail for $64. She got a few sides, too.

“Tell us about Harris! He sounds like a keeper,” said Sophia.

Leandra described their trip through England, and his house in the Valley. “We have five bedrooms, a pool, a bowling alley, a tennis court. If you guys ever need to just get away from West Hollywood, come over anytime.”

Demi was frowning, clearly holding back some obnoxious judgey comment.

“Something on your mind, Demi?” asked Leandra.

“Not a thing.”

“I doubt that.”

She paused, and then launched right in. “It's just that you told us where you and Harris went, what he buys you and how cool his house is. But you didn't say anything about
him
. His character.”

His
character
? What did that even mean? “He's a very sweet, loving person, with deep respect for women.”

“Good for him, and you.”

“Are you guys seeing anyone?” asked Leandra.

Sophia interjected. “We're both focused on our careers right now.”

O-kay
. Sophia wanted to talk about her career, fine. “Tell me about your show!” said Leandra.

While she listened to Sophia describe
The Den
, Leandra made good eye contact. She nodded and laughed at the right moments. But she found it nearly impossible to concentrate on what Sophia was saying about the minutiae of her shooting schedule and the people she worked with. She was glad for her friend's success, but it made her uncomfortable by comparison. Sophia was a professional actor, and Leandra was … a professional girlfriend? A year ago, Sophia was struggling, and Leandra was the honors student. It was hard to keep her balance on the shifting platform of their friendship. Meanwhile, Demi quietly sipped her margarita and said nothing.

“It's overwhelming to keep all the balls in the air. I'm just trying to live in the moment,” said Sophia. “Stay present.”

“Me, too. My motto is Be Here Now,” said Leandra, tuning back in, realizing she'd been here now for twenty minutes, and hadn't been in the moment for the entire time.

Demi laughed like she knew Leandra had pulled her motto out of her ass, and said, “My motto is ‘Eat Here Now.'” Right on cue, the servers brought their food. Her steak looked and smelled scrumptious, but Leandra would limit herself to only several bites. She didn't want to get fat.

“Demi's opening a restaurant in Venice,” said Sophia.

Then it was Demi's turn to blather about a job at some taco stand on a public beach, the kind of place Leandra wouldn't be caught dead in. Five minutes went by as she half listened to this drivel. Leandra tried several times to bring the conversation back to her glamorous life of travel, sex, romance, and adventure, but Demi intentionally blocked her, and dragged the discussion back to food and permits and loudmouthed Australians.

“I don't think the three of us have been in the same room since twelfth grade,” said Sophia. “Remember the night we drove to English Bay Park and smoked a whole pack of cigarettes?”

“My lungs still ache,” said Demi.

“We swore we'd follow our bliss, no matter what.”

“I said I wanted a Wall Street or Capitol Hill husband,” said Leandra. “I was so narrow-minded.”

“Right. There're a whole wide world of douche bags out there,” said Demi.

She didn't know the half of it. “I meant that I thought happiness would come from being taken care of. But I know now it's taking care of someone you love. If Harris lived in some apartment in West Hollywood, I'd still be with him.”

“We live in an apartment in West Hollywood,” said Demi, deadpan.

“I'm sure it's lovely,” said Leandra.

Sophia said, “That night, I said I wanted to be an actor, and I'm doing it. The closer I get to bliss, though, the further away it seems. We've all been in constant motion since that night—different cities, apartments, jobs, relationships. It seems like we never stop moving, but where are we going? For what? Is there an endpoint, when you stop, look around, and say, ‘Yup, this is bliss. Whew! Made it!'”

Leandra recited the line from a poster in her dorm at Holy Isle. “The search for bliss is inside ourselves.”

“This enchilada is bringing me pretty close to bliss,” said Demi.

“I'm serious, Demi,” said Sophia.

“I think, that night, I said my bliss was finding a career I love doing, using my creativity and enjoying life,” said Demi. “I took a long detour away from bliss in Vancouver, but I'm getting closer here, definitely, but I'm not sure bliss can ever be locked down. You might get there, and then wake up and realize bliss is somewhere else.”

“I found my bliss in Harris,” said Leandra. “He's adoring and smart, sexy, and deep! We're forever. It's permanent bliss with him.”

Sophia said, “I can't wait to meet him.”

Demi said, “He sounds like the total package.”

Their praise felt genuine. Leandra basked in it. She'd earned it. After her wild journey across three continents, Leandra was reveling in the destination. She had no intention of leaving. “Just be patient, guys,” she said. “One day I'm sure you'll be as happy as I am.”

They polished off their plates—Leandra ate way more than she intended—and had another couple of margaritas each. By the end of the meal, they were laughing like the old friends they were, especially about the sagas of Charlie and Oliver (with minor edits to make Leandra look good). She held up her glass to make a toast. “To the girls we used to be, and the ballsy, sexy women we are now!”

They clinked and drank. Demi flashed a genuine smile at her, and Leandra remembered how tight they used to be. If it weren't for that one party, that one decision that Leandra had made for them, they'd probably still be BFFs.

Sophia's antennas were on high alert, sensing a thaw between Leandra and Demi. She smiled at them, back and forth, mentally willing them to kiss and make up. Was this what she hoped would happen tonight? Leandra was buzzed, and warmed by seeing old friends. So, sure, she'd bury the hatchet. Why not?

“We went our separate ways, but we wound up back together, here, living the dream. If James didn't cheat on you, Demi—not to bring up a touchy subject—you'd still be in Vancouver. And if Jesse and you stayed together, Sophia, you wouldn't have come to Toronto with me, or signed on with Agnes Chen, who heard about the audition for
The Den
. So it all worked out for the best. I'm
glad
we talked him into dumping you.”

Sophia said, “You …
what
?”

“Shut up, Leandra,” Demi warned. Man, she looked
pissed
.

At the time, they'd agreed to keep the secret, but it was the only thing they agreed on since that night. Demi was so drunk, she barely remembered what really happened; anyway, it was five years ago. The truth couldn't hurt Sophia now. She was way beyond that silly little high school fling. She might as well fill her in.

“You were having dinner with your parents or something, and didn't go to the big party at Maggie Rose's house,” said Leandra. “Demi got wasted, almost passed out on the lawn, and I had to babysit her. Jesse was there, too. When you weren't around, Sophia, he wasn't very nice to us. He was kind of a prick, actually, like he was jealous of any time you spent with us. That boy was way too possessive. Anyway, he made some rude comment about Demi, like how could Sophia put up with her? That Demi would drag you down, would always be someone you had to carry through life. He was really letting it out, really gushing with hate, right, Demi? Oh, you don't even remember. Well, he was.”

“What did you say to him?” asked Sophia, her voice flinty.

“I defended Demi, and our right to be in your life, and how creepy obsessed he was with you. I might've said a few other things.”

“Like what?”

“That you felt suffocated by him and how you told us at the Bay that your bliss was to get as far away from him as possible. Demi slurred some other stuff, about how we made a pact to follow our bliss and help each other do the same, and that if there was only one thing Jesse could do, he should let you go to save his own dignity because he was just some pissant high school boyfriend, and you were going to be a star, and go out with rock gods and movie actors. And look at you now! You are becoming a star! Rock gods are next on the list.”

“I'm sorry, Soph,” Demi said, “I wanted to tell you, but…”

“I didn't. We discussed it, and eventually agreed that it was best if you didn't know what went down. If we told you we caused the breakup, you would have run back to him and dumped us. We made the decision that we were more important to you than he was. For your future. And this dinner tonight only confirms how right we were.”

“You made the decision for me who was important in my life,” said Sophia. She was smiling. Good! She understood.

Demi looked horrified at that smile. She said, “It just seemed cruel to tell you. You were crushed already. And if he'd leave you that easily he wasn't worthy. I might've rationalized from guilt. And I have felt terrible guilt for years about this.”

Leandra remembered their heated arguments about the morality of manipulating other people's lives. Demi was then, probably still is, way too sensitive for her own good. She hadn't been toughened up by loss like Leandra. Easing Demi's guilt was just too onerous for Leandra to deal with. She refused to listen to it, which turned Demi's guilt into anger, and then antipathy. It was sealed when Leandra convinced Sophia to leave Vancouver behind after graduation, and start over again in Toronto with her.

Leandra's driver texted that he was outside the restaurant at their prearranged hour. “Oh, shit. Sorry to run, but my driver is illegally parked out front.” She dropped $200 on the table and stood up. “You both look so upset! Don't be sad. We'll do this again very soon. It's so great to see you both. Kiss, kiss!”

She hugged them both and was a bit insulted Sophia didn't take more photos to document this wonderful clearing of the air between them. Leandra had finally gotten that pebble out of her shoe, metaphorically speaking, and could have skipped to the limo if it wouldn't make her look deranged. She sank into the leather seats and closed her eyes, a little drunk and warmed from the inside to have reconnected with old friends. Would they get together again, as promised? Who knows? They were childhood friends with little in common, moving at a rapid clip in different directions.

At least she knew that her love with Harris was real.

*   *   *

When Leandra got back to the mansion around ten
P.M.
, it was overrun with girls. About half a dozen of them had been hanging out at the pool in thong bikinis all week. Harris was feeding them and letting them use the golf carts, the archery range, and the tanning beds. They swarmed the house, playing Grand Theft Auto VI in her living room at three in the morning, at full blast. But she put up with it. They were actors. “If I don't keep them content and close,” Harris explained, “they'd go suck balls for some other producer.”

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