“Oh, ew,” Tara laughed. “Can you not wax poetic about bodily fluids?”
“So you...popped?” Mac asked, clearly unsure of herself. Her eyes were still red from crying, but thanks to Ursa, she was starting to look like...Ursa. Waves framed her face, easing some roundness into her square jaw; with a little bronzer and wet lips, she’d be set for the twinsie life.
“We popped and we meshed, and he was this perfect combination of Chandler from Friends and that guy from The Notebook. Like, superfunny and snarky and comfortable with his obsession with me. We were obsessed with each other—”
“What’s The Notebook?” Mac asked. But no one answered her; they were waiting for Braithe to keep talking. Now that she’s going she’s really going, Rainy thought. But this was her favorite topic, even if she was hesitant to admit it: love.
“And he’d do this thing where he’d rub little circles on my palm to tell me he wanted me, and like, wherever we were he’d do that and we’d just go running out like—”
“Two horny kids?” Rainy finished for her.
“Yeah,” she said, and her mouth curled up in a secret pleasure as she traced over her memories in front of them.
“Um, so are you not talking about Stephen?” Mac’s face was genuinely confused.
“Have you ever loved anyone other than Bryan? Hush,” Tara said, but not unkindly; Mac was like everyone’s little sister.
“I’m more of a Christian Grey fan myself,” Ursa said. “I need you to spank me, not read me stories in a nursing home.”
“Your turn,” Braithe said as she pushed the ice bucket toward Ursa, who was finished with Mac’s hair.
Ursa reached in, her hand, with its candy-colored nails, drawing out the second-to-last question. Rainy watched her eyes scan the paper and widen considerably. When she read it out loud for the rest of them, she was trying not to laugh.
“Have you ever...squirted?”
It sounded like a series of murders were taking place all at the same time. Rainy joined the choir of screams and screeches and then laughed behind her hand as Ursa recounted her the story of the first time she’d done it (freshman year of college with a premed major).
“And he explained the whole thing in medical terms. I legit thought I was dying of an STI. No one had ever told me about it—”
Rainy stopped listening, remembering that her turn was next. So had that been Tara’s question or Braithe’s? she thought, doing the math. There wasn’t long to think on it because they were done asking Ursa their prying questions and ready to sink their teeth into Rainy.
They didn’t even bother to pass her the ice bucket. Braithe dug the last piece of paper out and passed it to Rainy without looking at her. She was still engaged in the conversation, pointing a finger at Ursa as she said, “It is not right that a man had to explain that to you!”
It was stupid, but Rainy’s palms began to sweat.
Unfolding the slip, she mumbled out the words as soon as she saw them and felt herself immediately go cold. Her voice abruptly cut off and Mac asked her to repeat the question. Rainy read it again, slowly this time.
“Have you ever been married before?”
“Um...weird,” Ursa said. “We all know each other’s dating history.”
“Not so weird,” Tara piped up. “We don’t know very much about Rainy, since she’s our newest.”
On cue, they all looked at Rainy, who was still reeling and desperately wanting there to be an earthquake at that very moment to end this game and suck them all into the ground.
“I—”
Had they done this on purpose, included that question for her? But how could they know what had almost happened to her? And how could they know that she would draw that question?
Her heart was pounding, and a familiar panic was rising in her throat. If she gave anything away, they’d know the truth before Grant did.
“No.” The word rolled from her tongue, firm and hard like a boiled sweet. It was easier than she expected it to be, though her heart was hammering around in her chest. Rainy, who had spent many years learning to be silent, chose that approach now. Sitting squarely and blinking lazily, she stared at them as they stared at her. When no more words were said, the room took on a weird energy. The white living room with its white furniture blurred in and out of focus. Rainy wanted to stand up and leave. She was almost relieved when Tara spoke, but her relief curdled as soon as the words were out of Tara’s mouth.
“When do you and Grant think you’ll tie the knot?”
The knot that formed in Rainy’s belly was not the same as the knot Tara meant.
Momentarily tongue-tied, she stumbled over her words before saying, “We’re not sure we will. I...er...I’m not so much a fan of the whole thing...?” The end of her sentence seemed to drop off in a question. Stupid, stupid Rainy.
Tara raised her eyebrows before glancing around the table to gauge everyone else’s response to this bit of news. To Rainy, she looked hungry as she searched their faces. Ursa and Mac, satisfied with her answer and already bored, looked indifferent. Marriage wasn’t a thing anymore; if people didn’t choose it, it was no big deal. They’d moved on, game over. Braithe and Tara were the only ones still looking at her, and Braithe’s eyebrows were drawn in what Rainy could only assume was concern.
“Does Grant want to get married?”
Tara was really pushing it with these questions. Rainy felt herself nearing anger as she licked her lips and lied again.
“No. We’re on the same page.”
Braithe gave her an odd look, like she knew Rainy was lying, and she probably did—she’d known Grant since they were teenagers. He’d no doubt expressed his desire to get married at least a couple times over the twenty years of their friendship. Her next words surprised Rainy, however. “Not everyone wants to get married, Tara,” Braithe said tightly. Tara shrugged, but there was a small grin on her lips that Rainy didn’t miss. Had they spoken about this together, the possibility of Rainy and Grant getting married? She supposed they had. After all, they’d known Grant longer than she had, and it was only normal to speculate about your friends’ love lives.
“Game over.” Braithe stood up, stretching. “We need to get ready.”
Getting ready, for Rainy, involved a three-minute shower, putting on an uncomplicated outfit and mascara.
“We’re gonna be a while, Rainy,” Braithe said, looking embarrassed. She had no makeup on yet, and she was wearing one of the hotel gowns. A hair dryer roared to life in one of the rooms, and Ursa began wandering around in a towel, looking for her curling iron. It was female chaos.
She should have taken a longer shower, washed her hair, put on a more complicated outfit...but the trouble was, Rainy didn’t know how to take a long time to do things; she rushed through everything, which made her feel like she was failing at being a woman. These women were part of a ritual that she didn’t understand: bonding through talk and preparation.
It’s just not how you grew up, she thought, and then flinched. Sara always seeped into her memory when she was in a group of women, even when she tried to keep her out. The normalcy of these women, talking and laughing together, made her long for something she hadn’t allowed herself since then...since Sara.
“The shops and bars downstairs are great if you want to get started without us.” Braithe’s voice pulled her out of her feelings, dropping her into less complicated ones. They were trying to get rid of her. Did she care?
“I’ll go walk around for a bit,” she offered, standing up. If they wanted to talk about her, let them. They needed to dissect her answers to the game, right? Well, she needed space.
“I’ll text you when we’re heading down,” Braithe called to her.