Before she could say anything, the apartment door opened and Haley walked in with her usual energy, "Hey, you two," she greeted as she closed the door behind her and dropped her bag on a shelf near the entrance.
"Hey," Rachel replied with a smile, standing up from the couch and leaving behind, at least for the moment, her romantic frustration.
"Where were you?" she asked.
"Out," Haley answered naturally as she took off her jacket. "I went to lunch. All by myself. A little attention to my own self."
Rachel looked at her with a small smile and started getting ready to leave.
"Thanks for lending me the jacket, by the way," Haley added, hanging it on the coat rack by the door.
"Oh, no problem," Rachel said, taking it back almost immediately. "Although, if you want, I can sell it to you. I need the money."
Haley laughed, "You have the interview now, right?"
"Yeah," Rachel nodded as she put on the jacket. When she slipped one hand into the pocket, she felt something and pulled it out, "Here are your keys, honey."
She left them on the counter. But that was not the only thing she found. Between her fingers, a somewhat crumpled receipt appeared too.
Rachel looked at it for a second and raised an eyebrow, "Hal?"
"Yeah?" Haley said as she turned around turned around.
"If you had lunch alone..." Rachel unfolded the receipt a little, reading the amount. "How is it that you spent ninety-eight dollars?"
She finished sliding her arm through the sleeve of the jacket and looked at her carefully.
Haley froze for barely a second. Then she smiled with a naturalness that was far too rehearsed, "Do you know what must have happened?"
Rachel did not answer, she waited.
"Someone must have stolen my credit card," Haley completed.
Since she had worked for a while, Haley had managed to get Phil to give her an extension of his credit card in her name.
Rachel looked at her as if she had just heard the worst lie in the world.
"And then they put the receipt in your pocket?" she asked, making the gesture of slipping a piece of paper into the jacket.
Haley opened her mouth, for a second she did not know what to say until she said the first thing that came to mind, "Ha... That is an excellent, excellent question."
Right after that, she turned slightly, as if avoiding eye contact could help her survive the conversation.
Rachel narrowed her eyes, "What is going on with you? Who did you have lunch with?"
Monica, still sitting on the couch, watched the scene in silence, not knowing at what point a simple entrance into the apartment had turned into this.
Haley hesitated, "Judy."
Rachel frowned, "Who?"
Haley swallowed and clarified, "Julie."
The atmosphere changed instantly.
"What!?" Rachel exclaimed, scandalized.
"Jody..." Haley tried to correct herself, although it was already too late.
Rachel took a step toward her, "You were with Julie?"
"Listen," Haley said, raising both hands with a worried expression. "At first, I just wanted to be nice to her. You know... because she is a lonely girl with no friends."
'Julie...' Monica thought, searching for the name among her memories.
It took her a few seconds to place her.
She was one of the students at the fashion academy Rachel and Haley were enrolled in.
From what both of them had said more than once, Julie was exactly the kind of person who managed to be disliked without making much of an effort. She was always correcting others, spoke as if she knew more than everyone else, and looked at every garment, every sketch, and every comment with a superiority that was impossible to ignore.
In a class full of aspiring designers, stylists, and girls with enough ego to fill a runway, Julie had managed to stand out by being especially unbearable.
And Rachel and Haley, who shared a natural talent for gossip and quick criticism, had turned her into a recurring topic of conversation since the first week of classes.
"A conceited loner who thinks she's better than everyone else!" Rachel corrected immediately, pointing at her with the crumpled receipt still in her hand.
Haley grimaced, "Yeah, well... that too, but I felt a little bad for her. She asked me if I could help her with part of the assignment they gave us because she didn't really understand what the professor wanted. What was I supposed to do? Ignore her?" she justified herself.
"Yes," Rachel answered without hesitation, "When I asked her something in class because she was sitting next to me, she looked at me, huffed, and then looked back to the front as if I were an idiot," she added, grinding her teeth at the memory.
"Yeah, I know she's not very nice..." Haley murmured. "But she's better once you get to know her."
"Oh, right. Of course," Rachel replied with pure sarcasm. "Very nice. The other day I ran into her in the hallway and, after looking me up and down, she told me my color combination was brave. She said it like my outfit was a tragedy!"
"It's..." Haley desperately searched for the right words. "You know. She's probably jealous of you. Especially because you're so pretty."
Rachel's frown disappeared for an instant, "Oh... thank you," she said, with an almost tender tone at the unexpected compliment.
But the sweetness did not last long. A second later, she remembered she had just discovered a betrayal.
"Wait! No. It's still betrayal," she said, recovering her indignation. "You criticize her with me and then go have lunch with her to help her."
She made air quotes with her fingers as she said the last word, "Since when have you been doing this?"
Haley lowered her gaze a little, "Two weeks..."
Rachel's eyes widened, "Two weeks!?"
"Yeah, and then one thing led to another..." Haley answered with visible guilt.
Rachel watched her with growing horror.
Haley swallowed, "...and before we knew it, we were..."
She paused briefly and concluded in a defeated tone, "...shopping."
"Ahh..."
Rachel let out that sound as if someone had just stabbed her in the back, "Oh, my God."
She placed one hand on the counter to steady herself.
"Shopping," she repeated in a low voice, "With Julie."
Haley approached with a worried expression, "Wait, we only did it once."
Rachel nodded exaggeratedly, with the kind of gesture that made it clear she did not believe a single word.
"It meant nothing to me," Haley insisted, bringing both hands to her chest and looking at her.
"Yeah, right. Sure," Rachel replied, starting to walk around the apartment with the receipt still in her hand.
"Rachel, I was thinking about you the whole time," Haley said, following closely behind her.
Rachel stopped dead, and slowly turned around. "While you were shopping with Julie?"
"Look, I'm sorry, all right?" Haley said, lowering her voice a little. "I never wanted you to find it."
"Oh, please!" Rachel exclaimed, pointing at her with the receipt. "You wanted to get caught!"
"That is not true!"
"Oh, sure! So you just left this here by accident?" Rachel asked, making an exaggerated gesture of slipping the receipt into the jacket pocket.
Haley raised both hands, "Did it ever occur to you that I might just be that stupid?"
There was a second of silence.
Monica, sitting on the couch, barely raised one hand, "Girls..." she said as if trying to calm the waters.
Rachel took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, "Okay... okay..." she murmured.
She checked the time on her wristwatch and closed her eyes for an instant, as if remembering she had a commitment.
"I just really..." She started to say something, but stopped, searching for the words. "I just need to not be with you right now. I have a job interview."
"Rachel..." Haley murmured, following her with her eyes.
But Rachel was already walking toward the exit.
Monica followed her with her eyes, 'Go to your job interview, we need money,' she thought.
Rachel opened the door and left the apartment, slamming the door shut behind her.
The silence lingered for a few seconds.
Haley looked at the closed door, knowing perfectly well that insisting now would only make things worse. She walked over and collapsed onto the couch, letting out a dramatic sigh.
For a few seconds, she stayed there staring at the closed door, as if Rachel could walk back in at any moment just to continue the argument.
Then she turned her head toward Monica, who was still sitting in exactly the same place.
"She's going to forgive me, right?" she asked.
Monica watched her in silence.
If she did not know Rachel and Haley, she would have said the whole thing was an exaggeration.
But she knew them, and both of them could be terribly dramatic.
Ever since Rachel had moved to Los Angeles and started living in the same apartment as Haley, the two of them had grown extremely close.
They did not just share a roof. They also studied fashion at the same institution, went to classes together, went out together, shopped together, complained together, and, somehow, had found in each other a different version of themselves.
Rachel had always had Monica as her best friend.
That had not changed.
And Monica, in another context, might have been able to feel jealous seeing how quickly Rachel and Haley had connected.
But that was not the case.
Haley had also become a very close friend to her, and seeing them get along so well seemed like a good thing.
As for Haley, despite her outward confidence and her ease when it came to socializing, she had never really had many deep friendships in high school. She had friends, of course. Girls for parties, gossip, outings, and pictures. But most of those bonds were superficial.
With Rachel and Monica, it was different. She had finally managed to find real friends.
That was why now Haley did not simply seem worried about a passing fight. She seemed genuinely scared of having damaged something important.
"If you really apologize, Rachel is going to forgive you," Monica finally replied.
Haley nodded, a little calmer. She truly believed that what she had done was wrong, since if it had been the other way around, she would have gotten angry.
Monica also understood why Rachel was angry. Although she still thought the reaction had been a little exaggerated, she understood the point.
If they had both spent weeks criticizing Julie's unbearable personality, then Haley ending up having lunch with her in secret and, even worse, going shopping, could feel like a small betrayal.
A little before the usual dinner time on a Friday, Andrew, Howard, Leonard, Steve, and Paige were already in Monica's apartment.
Rachel had also returned from her job interview.
Haley tried to approach her and talk to her as soon as she saw her come in, but Rachel did not give her the chance. She simply walked past everyone with a tense expression and disappeared straight into her room.
Andrew and the others noticed the strange atmosphere immediately.
Several looks turned toward Monica, searching for some kind of explanation.
Monica only shrugged. She did not know exactly how to summarize it without saying something like: Haley betrayed Rachel by going shopping with the enemy from fashion academy.
She focused on being the good hostess she was.
While everyone settled around the couches, Monica went to the kitchen to prepare some snacks and refreshments. There was still a while before they ordered food, but in her apartment, no one was going to sit around without something to eat on the table.
"You lost, Andrew. Accept it," Paige said from the couch, sitting beside him with an amused smile. "I'm not playing a rematch tonight."
She was referring to chess.
A few days earlier, the group had organized a kind of mini tournament. Everyone against everyone. Each victory added three points.
The participants had been Andrew, Howard, Leonard, Paige, and Alex.
Steve, Haley, Monica, and Rachel had decided to stay away from that competition. Not because they did not know how to play, but because they had no interest in facing a group of people who treated a chess game as if it were the world championship.
Andrew had beaten everyone.
Everyone except Paige.
Paige had also won all her games and, in the final duel against Andrew, ended up defeating him to crown herself champion of the tournament.
"Are you scared, Swanson?" Andrew asked, leaning back against the couch with a provocative smile. "I didn't expect that from you."
Paige glanced at him from the corner of her eye, amused, without fully taking the bait.
She still found it curious how quickly she had integrated into that group.
The first time she met them had been at one of Steve's parties, thanks to Sam's invitation. Barely three weeks had passed since then, but somehow, she already felt comfortable there.
Sam, for her part, was now officially Steve's girlfriend.
Of the friends of Sam that the group had met, Paige had been the one who ended up becoming the most part of the group. So much so that now she was there even without Sam.
"I'm not scared, Pritchett," she replied, using his last name too. "I'm not in the mood for a chess game, and I didn't know you were such a sore loser."
"I just want my rematch," Andrew said. "If you're not scared, let's play. It won't take me long to beat you."
"Oh..." Paige said, unable to keep herself from letting out a small laugh. "You sound very confident for someone who lost to me."
"I lost by this much," Andrew replied, bringing his thumb and index finger together to indicate a tiny distance. "By a hair."
"You also lost by that much against Nebraska and they're not giving you a rematch," Paige replied without losing her smile.
The comment landed without anesthesia.
Andrew had not expected it.
For half a second, he stared at her, surprised that she had decided to poke him right in the pride of his first football loss.
Then he smiled. He could not help it. There was something about that kind of acidic humor that he found far too entertaining.
"Hey, don't remind me of that game!" Steve protested from an armchair, looking up from his phone with a grimace.
Paige raised both hands, as if only then realizing that maybe she had touched on too sensitive a subject.
But Andrew intervened before the scene could become awkward, "I'll have my rematch against them soon," he said in a relaxed tone. "And I'm going to beat them. But first, I have to beat you."
The following year, UCLA would face Nebraska again in the regular season.
That kind of agreement between major programs was usually organized over two years: one home game for one side, and the next year the rematch at the other's home.
That season, UCLA had traveled to Lincoln.
Next season, Nebraska would have to visit the Rose Bowl.
And Andrew did not intend to forget it.
"You're so competitive. Just accept defeat. We'll play another day," Paige said, making a careless gesture with her hand.
Andrew raised both hands, pretending to surrender, "As you wish. I'll let you enjoy your little moment of glory."
Paige, who for an instant thought she had finally managed to stop his insistence, frowned and looked at him immediately, "What? What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing..." Andrew replied with a far too innocent smile. "I'm just saying, enjoy your victory. Everyone wants to beat me at least once, you know? It doesn't happen very often. Since you beat me by very little, I suppose you want to preserve that victory for as long as possible. It's understandable. Deep down, you know repeating it would be complicated. Enjoy it."
Paige's lips twitched instantly, "What an ego..."
"Confidence," Andrew corrected.
"Ego," she repeated, standing up. "And I can beat you as many times as necessary. Go get the chessboard."
Leonard and Howard exchanged a look.
Nothing needed to be said.
Those two had an excessively strong competitive gene.
Andrew smiled sideways, satisfied with the result, and left the apartment. He crossed the hall to his own and did not take long to return with the chessboard under his arm.
They placed it on the coffee table.
Andrew and Paige sat on the floor, facing each other, while they arranged the pieces. Leonard, Howard, and Monica settled around them to watch the game.
"A little excitement before dinner," Howard murmured with a smile.
Although he did not like to admit it, the two best chess players were Paige and Andrew.
As he arranged the white pieces, Andrew could not help glancing toward Steve, who was still sitting in the armchair, typing quickly on his phone.
"Is Sam on her way?" he asked.
Steve nodded without looking up from the screen, "Yeah. She was studying at the library. She'll be here in twenty minutes."
"At the library on a Friday..." Howard snorted, with an almost mocking tone. "What a nerd."
Leonard slowly turned his head toward him, "I don't think you're the right person to say that..."
"Are you sad, Steve-bun, because your girlfriend still hasn't arrived?" Paige asked, looking at him with a teasing smile.
Andrew and the others could not help laughing at the nickname.
Sam had called Steve that once.
Steve-bun.
It was an affectionate name, yes, but also ridiculously cheesy. Exactly the kind of sickly-sweet nickname no one wanted their friends to hear.
Unfortunately for Steve, his friends had heard it.
And, of course, Paige, Howard, and Andrew had not had the slightest intention of letting it die in peace.
Steve stopped looking at his phone and looked up with a flat expression, "Ha, ha. Very funny, Paige. That's the fourth time you've used it. It doesn't bother me."
"Hey, don't bother him," Andrew intervened, raising one hand to calm the laughter.
Steve looked at him with some gratitude.
Until Andrew added, "Come watch the game, Steve-bun. It's the rematch."
Paige burst out laughing.
Steve closed his eyes for an instant, as if gathering the patience necessary not to throw his phone at one of them.
"And why don't you sing that song you did the other time at karaoke with Sam?" Paige asked, narrowing her eyes with malice.
"Oh, yeah, do it!" Howard said, clapping once.
"It was a great performance," Leonard added with a small smile.
"No," Steve replied, without a hint of humor in his voice.
"Please, just one verse," Andrew insisted.
"No way. I only did it because Sam asked me to and because she liked that song," Steve refused, sinking a little farther into the armchair.
"Fine, fine..." Andrew murmured.
"Sure, sure..." Paige added.
For a second, both of them pretended to focus on the board again.
Then they looked at each other with dangerous complicity and, almost at the same time, began singing in an exaggeratedly dramatic way.
"Turn around... 🎶"
"Look at what you see... 🎶"
As they sang, they snapped their fingers to the rhythm, as if they were in the middle of a serenade.
Leonard, Howard, and Monica burst into laughter and softly clapped along to the rhythm of the song.
"You guys are very funny. Seriously," Steve said, getting up from the armchair.
Then he showed them the middle finger and moved it from side to side, making sure everyone saw it clearly.
Right after that, he turned around and headed toward the kitchen with his phone in his hand, unable to endure another second of those two's conspiracy.
"He shouldn't have let himself be convinced to sing a song by his girlfriend in front of hundreds of people," Andrew commented, amused.
"Yeah. Next time, he'll think about it better," Paige replied, turning her attention back to the board.
Monica watched them with a smile as Steve disappeared into the kitchen.
It was rare to see Steve lose his patience. Normally, he was very relaxed and someone who preferred to let jokes pass rather than spend energy responding to them.
But lately, Andrew and Paige had developed a special talent for getting a reaction out of him.
The curious thing was that there was also constant competition between those two, but they could go from provoking each other over a chess game, like now, to working together in a perfectly synchronized mockery in a matter of seconds.
Andrew took one white piece and one black piece from the board. He closed both pieces inside his fists, mixed them quickly in front of her, and then extended both hands.
"Choose."
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