Cold Feet by Amy FitzHenry

Author:Amy FitzHenry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2015-08-14T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

“Do you remember senior year of high school, when I wanted to join the dance team?” Liv asked, as our waiter plunked down two extra-spicy Bloody Marys.

We had walked to North Beach, my favorite part of the city, due to the beautiful views, stunning churches, and welcoming parks, not to mention that it was home to the best part of San Francisco: Little Italy. Liv declared that we needed a drink and a bite in order to figure out our next move, and I wasn’t about to disagree. She pointed us toward a beautiful restaurant on the water with a back deck exclusively dedicated to day drinking and staring into the blue water of the San Francisco Bay.

“Of course I do.”

“Do you remember how I forced you to try out with me because I didn’t want to do it alone? And we came home after school every day for two weeks and practiced the routine over and over.” Liv looked way too excited about this unimportant footnote in our friendship.

“Yeah, to the Spice Girls’ ‘Wannabe.’ And your CD player kept skipping, so we made Benny hold it for, like, three hours a day.” Her little brother was so thrilled to be included that he would agree to anything, even pressing pause and play when we screamed out instructions. Liv and I really had no business trying out for the dance team. We couldn’t do a pirouette to save our lives. But we were seniors and it was spring semester, so they’d pretty much let anyone in our position shimmy on the gym floor for a few minutes during pep rallies.

“You didn’t even want to do it, but I couldn’t try out alone, remember? I was too embarrassed, so you did it with me. And then, once we made the team—and I use that term loosely—I decided I wanted to do the musical instead and ditched you?”

“Yes, of course. I blame Mrs. McCarthy, who lured you away with the promise of a solo—although you were a great Golde.” Liv may look like a floppy bird when she does the running man, but the girl can sing. Despite the aging makeup and long cotton layers, her performance in Fiddler on the Roof ensured that every drama guy in school fell in love with her immediately.

“Thanks, I think it was all that practicing for a bat mitzvah that my Catholic parents wouldn’t let me have,” Liv reflected, taking a swallow of her Bloody. “But wait, I haven’t gotten to why I brought this up!” She took a pause as if to recapture the seriousness of her point. “The point is, even after I quit, you stayed on the dance team.”

“That’s true . . .” I said, completely lost.

“You didn’t need me! I couldn’t possibly have gone through something so embarrassing without you, but you had no problem doing it alone.”

“But you did the musical instead,” I said, trying and failing to get her point.

“I’m a good singer—the musical was no sweat—plus, I had a crush on Tevye so I was really convincing.

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