One

Sasha’s POV.

Weekends could be good or bad—good when you have people to spend them with and a harsh reminder of how your life is withering when you’re left with spending them alone. Well, unlike the numerous ones before, this particular Friday was going well for me.

My friend, Julia, was dedicated to making me spend most of the night out, not that I was complaining. We had barely entered the second bar for the night—I couldn’t even remember the name—when Julia pulled me to the crowded dance floor.

I followed her steps like I often did whenever we danced together. How could I not? Julia was a badass dancer. The song melted into a slower one and I found myself just swaying to the music, not minding anyone else, not even Julia.

The past weeks have been hectic at work. Scrambling from one deadline to the other had taken its toll on my body. I could practically feel my muscles relax as I danced.

Sometimes I laughed at myself for stubbornly insisting on pursuing accounting instead of the many other career choices that didn’t include this much stress. Maybe visual arts or hospitality. 

But what made me choose accounting as a teenager was still a constant even now: I loved the feeling of satisfaction that came after turning numbers into clean, arranged, financial statements. 

If I’d be honest, it was the only thing I was sure of being good at.

“Okay, I think we should sit now,” Julia uttered as the music ended.

Of course.

“The DJ here is dope!” she commented, hopping onto one of the chairs facing the high counter.

“Hm. I guess.”

“Come on, don’t act like you weren’t moving those hips just now.”

I chuckled.

It had become normal for Julia to bring my curves into any conversation, whether or not it was reasonable. Despite the fact that I was just an inch taller than her petite 5.6” height, she always insisted that our bodies were polar opposites. 

While I agreed that she was on the svelte side and I was on the more curvaceous side, we could pass for sisters. We had the same oval face even though she sported a black bob, and I had longer blonde hair. 

What I’d never told Julia since we became friends in college five years ago was that she was on the list of ladies I wished I looked like.

“Earth to Sash!”

Julia’s voice and her hand waving in front of my face pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Sorry, I was distracted for a bit there.”

“You don’t say. I was asking if you wanted your drink on the rocks or…”

“Neat,” I interrupted.

She relayed my answer to the bartender who immediately got busy making our drinks.

“There are a lot of hot guys here,” she mentioned, looking around. “Don’t turn yet. The guy behind you.”

“I’m not turning at all, thank you.”

The bartender brought our drinks and I took a much-needed sip.

She dramatically slouched her shoulder.

“Didn’t we come out to have fun?” I queried.

“Yeah, but…”

“No buts, Julia.”

“Don’t give me that, Sash,” she

countered before leaning closer. “Real talk. Isn’t it high time you started dating again?”

“No. Not yet.”

“What do you mean by ‘not yet?’ Come on, girl! How do we show that bastard he made the mistake of his life when you don’t flood your I***a with the cutest pictures ever?!”

After my 3-year relationship with Ryan abruptly ended with his engagement to another lady two years ago, I was a wreck. Although I could say I was now over him, the idea of dating was the least appealing thing to me.

“And a man has to be in these pictures?”

“Hell yeah!” she confirmed, her serious expression making me laugh.

I was about to make an argument when she brought her phone out of her small purse that also held my phone and key.

“Xander is asking where we’re at. I’m sure he’s planning to come,” she announced.

“Oh.”

Julia and her boyfriend lived together in Tribeca. So, if he wanted to join us, he could be with us in a few minutes since we hadn’t wandered that far away from my Upper West Side apartment.

“I’m definitely not telling him. Girls’ night out for a reason.”

“Poor guy.”

“I might have said the same if you had a guy, to start with.”

“Touche,” I muttered as my lips met with the rim of my tumbler.

Julia’s response was a roll of her brown eyes. 

“What’s holding you back, though?”

“Julia, don’t tell me you’re still on this,” I complained.

“I am,” she confirmed. “I know work keeps you busy most of the time but I also know you can make out time to go out if you want to. You’re a senior auditor, for crying out loud. So, what’s the hold up?”

She was right. Although my schedule wasn’t as flexible as Julia’s since she did her painting magic in her home studio, I could go out on dates if I wanted to. 

If.

“It’s not time yet,” I told her. 

People started making their way to the makeshift dance floor as an energetic song started playing.

“I don’t think I believe that. What…”

“Okay, you know what? If I find someone that catches my eye, I might be posting those couple photos soon,” I rushed in a bid to get her off my back.

Her eyes shone with a satisfied smile.

“Exactly what I want to hear. Let’s go dance while we go through your options.”

I shook my head in the negative.

“I’m done dancing.”

“Feeling tipsy already?” she inquired.

“You know me.”

“And I also know your lowered inhibition will come in handy tonight…” She suddenly stopped talking as she opened her purse. “Oh…it’s not mine.”

“My dad,” I informed, leaving her side to find the restroom.

“Hi, dad,” I spoke, staring at my reflection on the mirror.

“Sasha, we’re going to Florence. Jason will pick you up at noon tomorrow.”

And then he ended the call.

A good weekend, indeed.

I sighed, walking out of the bathroom with one intention: going from tipsy to drunk.