Shivering Over You

My Uber is here. I let out a deep exhale and smooth down my newly dyed-blonde hair one last time. 

“Emily, you’ll look just like Margot Robbie!” Lexi assured me when she suggested I dye my hair. I’ve never made an impulsive decision in my life, but I was craving a change.

While the blonde hair brings out my ice blue eyes more than my former mousy brown hair, I can’t help but think I look more like Lexi than Margot Robbie, which definitely wasn’t my intention.

“You got this” I whisper to myself as I grab my bag and head down to the Uber that’s waiting to bring me to Bar Sperl in Silverlake. When I moved to Los Angeles from my hometown in Connecticut a few years back, I pictured myself living in a cute shack near the beach on the West Side. Instead I'm in Los Feliz which is also cute, but over an hour to the beach, depending on traffic.

Once I’m settled in the car I start doing the breathing exercises my therapist taught me — inhale for a count of 4, hold for a count of 7, exhale for a count of 8. It’s not that I’m nervous to see Lexi, she’s become one of my closest friends over the last few years, but whenever she’s with Shera and Warren, it’s… different.  I’ve always felt more comfortable one-on-one with friends. In a group I seem to always say the wrong thing.

When I’m with the trio, I always feel like I’m imposing on something I wasn’t invited to. Shera doesn’t even bother to hide her eye rolls anymore and pointed, judgment, glances at Lexi on my behalf. I get that they’ve been friends forever and I could never come between that, but I also feel like she’s worried I’m going to take Lexi away from her. Yes, we have a lot in common and she’s become my closest friend here, but I’m not trying to make her break up with her childhood friends.

And then, there’s Warren. He at least makes an effort, which is more than I can say for Shera, but ever since that first night there’s always been something unspoken between us, a lingering question I can’t ignore… What if?

Lexi and I met at the crystal shop Spellbound Sky during my first week living in LA. I was looking at some malachite having read that it’s a stone of transformation — and also is believed to absorb both negative energies and pollutants. My new city had a lot of both of those things. 

“Ooof, beware if you’re a scorpio, aquarius, or cancer, not the stone for you!” a blonde woman about my age warns me while pointing out one of the emerald green stones.

“Oh, uh all good!” I awkwardly smile, “Taurus sun, virgo moon, gemini rising”

“Oh we’ve got a super grounded one here” she says with a certain twinkle in her eye, “Me? I’m a Leo sun, Aquarius moon, and a leo rising. Lots of chaos!”

I know I shouldn’t be surprised that someone at a crystal shop in Silver Lake, of all places, knows her big three, but seeing as everyone in my hometown though I was crazy for being into astrology and crystals so it’s exciting to meet someone that says their big three as nonchalantly as their coffee order.

“Seeing as Leo’s love attention, I’m guessing you’re in the business?” I attempt to volley back. Since I’ve moved to LA I’ve felt like all I’ve ever heard is people talking about “being in the business” or wanting to “be in the business” when they’re sitting at a Starbucks on Sunset pretending to work on a very important screenplay, convinced they’re writing the next Pulp Fiction.

“Nah, the only performing I do is a sick rendition of Just a Girl if I’m doing karaoke.” She laughs, “Anyways, I’m Lexi”

We end up chatting for another 15 minutes about how her friend is going to hardcore judge her if she buys another rose quartz, hot yoga classes on the east side, and if we’d ever do ayahuasca. Her yes, me hell no.

“Okay, I gotta head out before I’m tempted to buy the whole damn place,” Lexi says, starting to back away. I wonder if I’ve come on too strong, I know I have a tendency to do that when I feel awkward.

“But you should totally come out with me and my friends tonight” she continues before giving me her phone to put in my number.

Maybe moving to Los Angeles was the right call.

I have no clue what to wear.

It’s later that day and I’m on my way to meet up with Lexi and her two friends, Warren and Shera, at some house in the Hollywood Hills.

Everything I own feels so… boring and Connecticut. I decide on a cute floral but comfy dress and flats.

I arrive at the most outrageous house I’ve ever seen. There’s a view of downtown LA from the infinity pool — and just about every room in the house that seems to have nothing but glass walls. 

Toto, we’re definitely not in Connecticut anymore. 

The sky is painted an orange-y pink hue, tinged with the smog that settles over Los Angeles like a permanent ghost over the city. The sun dips lower, beneath the tall buildings of downtown LA casting a golden ray across the pool. The scent of Jasmine mixes with the faint smell of sunscreen and weed. If LA had a scene it would be weed.

Everyone here looks like they came straight from a modeling gig — tan, makeup with perfect contouring, and dressed like they just walked off the red carpet for an indie movie premier. 

I tug at my dress, wishing I’d chosen something that didn’t scream “Little House on the Prairie” in this sea of effortlessly chic outfits.

“EMILYYYYY” Lexi screams across the infinity pool, like I’m her long lost best friend and not some person she just met at a crystal shop mere hours ago.

“Emily, this is Warren and Shera” she says gesturing to a blonde guy that looks fresh out of a Hollister spread in the mid 2000s and a woman so stunningly captivating she looks like she could be Zendaya’s sister. I am so so so out of my league.

“Warren, Shera,” she continues, “This is Emily, I’m already OBSESSED with her.” I can feel my cheeks starting to redden. I can’t quite read the look on Shera’s face, but it doesn’t look friendly. 

“Hiiiii!” I wave, feeling like an overly eager golden retriever, “Soooo, where’s everyone from?”

Shera lets out an audible sigh that’s accompanied by an eye roll, “Oh, we all grew up here.”

“Yeah!” Warren sweeps in, “We all grew up on the west side and have known each other forever! But welcome, you’re gonna love it here!”

“So, what brings you to LA?” Shera asks, her eyes lingering over my dress and she doesn’t even bother to disguise her smirk.

“I just always dreamed of living here!” I say, shifting awkwardly under her gaze. I find a lock of my mousy brown hair and flick it back behind my shoulder. A habit when I’m nervous.

Shera’s perfectly tweezed eyebrow lifts, “A change from what, Connecticut?”

I laugh a little too loud, “Yup, pretty much! I guess Connecticut and I were due for a breakup. It was mutual!”

Warren gives me a kind chuckle, his effortless warmth cutting through Shera’s coolness. 

“Plus, her vibe is clearly more LA than Connecticut” Lexi joins in giving me a friendly nudge.

“Yup, total daisy dukes, bikini on top vibe,” I immediately regret quoting Katy Perry.

Shera’s audible scoff gives me a jolt of deja vu to being 12 years in English class when Franny Baker made the same noise after I read my essay about loving the musical Rent to the class.

Warren elbows Shera.

“What?” She yelps. For a second a swear there’s daggers in her eye.

“Anyway!” Lexi tries to save things, “Lets get some drinks!”

The night stretches on and I find myself shivering alone under one of the outdoor heating lamps. I could kick myself for wearing this dress and not bringing a jacket or something, but then again I didn’t realize it would be 50 degrees at night in the middle of summer.

“Ahhh, found the LA newbie. Didn’t anyone warn you? The nights are freezing here,” Warren chuckles, his smile warm, unlike the air right now.

“Nope, I guess no one gave me a copy of The Dummies Guide to Moving to LA,” I reply, rubbing my hands up and down to try and keep warm.

“I remember when we’d go to Disneyland as a kid you could always tell who wasn’t a local based on how they were dressed at night. They’d have to buy the most overpriced sweatpants and sweatshirts with Mickey and Goofy on them after foolishly riding Splash Mountain at night.”

“Well now I know. Bring a sweatshirt to Disneyland. And bougie parties in the Hollywood Hills.”

“Here, take my jacket” he says, kindly offering me his denim jacket. 

“Thanks,” I put it over my shoulders, grateful for the warmth of the jacket and to feel the lingering warmth of his body from being in the jacket. It smells like cologne and something I can’t put my finger on. 

“You know, it’s always funny to watch someone adjust to all of this” he gestures to the twinkling lights in the distance, the sky now a deep navy. Even at night this place is so shiny. “I remember what it was like to adjust to all this too.”

“Wait, but I thought you were from LA” I frown, confused, “You grew up here though.”

“Yeah I grew up here, but not here,”  he gestures, again. “My childhood looked nothing like this.” He hesitates for a second “My mom and I… we lived in Venice. She’d work these long hours just to keep us afloat. I watched her work so hard just to still struggle. When I finally got into this crowd with Lexi and Shera, I thought it’d make me feel better. Like I’d made it past all that. But… It makes me feel weird. All this excess when just a few blocks away people can’t even feed their children a nice meal. All of this, it will never be me.”

I quietly absorb his words.

“I didn’t expect that,” I begin, “You just seem like you fit in so effortlessly. Like you belong here. Meanwhile I’m over here regretting my outfit choice, and overthinking every word that’s come out of my month since I got here. You make it look so…easy”

He shakes his head, a smiling creeping over his pink lips “Nah, I’m just good at pretending. But there’s still always this doubt that I’m one step away from leaving this crowd. Everyone is acting, one way or another.”

“Well I’m acting like I know anything about this city besides what I learned in some Miley Cyrus song,” I laugh, a little too loudly. For what it’s worth, I add, “I don’t think you’re pretending. Not right now at least.”

His expression shifts, his blue eyes with long dirty blonde lashes that  meet my gaze, “Maybe you’re right” He looks down for a second, “I don’t talk about this kind of stuff with anyone. It’s kind of… nice.” He moves closer towards me, those beautiful blue eyes continuing to hold mine. We’re surrounded by people at a party, yet also completely alone.

I’m too afraid to breathe. To break the moment.

“Warren!” Shera’s cuts through the moment, snapping me back to the noise of the party. I let out the breath I’ve been holding, feeling a pang of disappointment like the moment slipped through my fingers just as I started to believe it was real. This hot guy was actually hitting on me.

“Lexi got totally wasted already and I need your help.”

“You should go help,” I say, offering a quick smile to try and shake off my nerves. “Here, take your jacket. I’m gonna head home. Thanks for it, though.”

He gives me a small nod, his voice low, “Anytime,” And with one last glance the moment is gone forever. He goes off to find Lexi. And I’m left wondering what might’ve happened if Shera hadn’t interrupted. For once I wasn’t second-guessing every world — I felt seen. And maybe he even 

Back to tonight.

I give myself one last pep talk in the moments between getting out of my Uber and entering Bar Sperl.

“Don’t be weird, don’t be weird, don’t be weird.” I mutter to myself, glancing at my reflection in the window of a Tesla. 

Okay maybe less of a pep talk and more of a rule for myself.  Maybe tonight is the night I stop trying so hard to win over Shera. Even after being here a few years, it’s a lost cause. But I’m not that same girl that just arrived from Connecticut. 

I walk into the bar, spot the usual trio together as always, put on a big fake smile, and say “Oh, hello!”