“Come, fair ladies.” Gideon leads us through the living room, which opens up onto the kitchen.
As soon as we walk farther inside, we’re greeted by cast members, all in various stages of tipsy. The main room is airy and bright, with a large Persian rug in the center and tapestries from India on the walls. Comfy couches in earth tones make an L shape, and a stack of art and travel books are in the center of the large coffee table. Two cats lie curled up beneath it, eyeing the room with suspicion.
When we get to the counter where all the drinks are, Lys scans the bottles, then grabs orange juice and the vodka in Gideon’s hand.
“I’m making you a screwdriver,” she says.
Nat looks at the vodka and wrinkles her nose. “That sounds dangerous.”
“It’s just vodka and orange juice,” Gideon says. He glances at me. “You’ve never had one before?”
“She’s never had anything before.” Nat grabs a Sprite. “I’ll stick to this.”
Gideon leans against the counter, his arms crossed. “Is this really your first drink?”
I nod. “The very first.”
“Okay, wait,” he says to Lys. “We can’t let her drink that shit.”
He opens the fridge and pulls out a tiny bottle of champagne, then gets a champagne flute from the cupboard.
“Won’t your parents realize that’s missing?” I ask.
He waves his hand, then opens the bottle. “There are, like, ten in there.”
Gideon pours champagne into the glass, then hands it to me. His fingers brush mine and his touch is electric.
I’ll kill myself if you break up with me.
I take a sip. It’s delicious and cold and wonderfully bubbly. Liquid gold. I feel warm inside almost immediately. I take another, bigger sip.
“Well?” Nat says.
“A perfect first drink,” I say.
Gideon grins. “Success!” Someone calls him over and he hands me the bottle. “Be right back.”
“Oh my god,” Nat says as soon as he’s out of earshot. “How freaking cute is he?”
Pretty cute, I have to admit.
“Consider yourself off matchmaking duty for the night,” I say to her. “Seriously. I just want to hang with my girls and get tipsy. No more boy talk. Please.”
They hug me so that I’m sandwiched between them and I am so in love with my best friends. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe they’d try to rescue me from a burning car, too.
And then I realize: you’re the burning car.
I finish my glass of champagne, then grab both of their hands and pull them into the backyard. It’s quiet here—everyone is inside doing dance party karaoke stuff, which is good because I might just fall apart and I don’t want an audience for that. Gideon doesn’t have a pool—he has a Zen rock garden, a swirl of white and gray stones, and I’m momentarily distracted by the moonlight bouncing off the rocks.
“Wow,” I say.
“Now I get why he’s so … Gideon,” Lys says. “I’d be a fucking Zen master, too, if I had this shit in my backyard.”
Nat doesn’t care about the rock garden. She’s the only one out of the three of us who realizes I’m shaking.
“Grace.” She holds on to my hand, tight.
I lose it then. Messy tears and sobbing and I don’t want to be with you anymore, Gavin, I don’t I’m sorry and I love you but I can’t do this anymore I can’t can’t I hate my life and I want everything to just stop, why won’t it just stop?
“That motherfucking bastard,” Lys says. “Look what he’s done to her.”
I can’t stop crying and I cling to Nat while Lys paces back and forth.
“You can’t stay with him,” Lys says.
“You know he’ll do it,” I say. “He’s not fucking around.”
“Then let him,” she snaps.
“Lys,” Nat growls. “Not. Helpful.”
“I still love him,” I say as my sobs die down.
“But you don’t want to be with him anymore, sweetie,” Nat says. “That’s okay. People grow apart. It just happens, you know? Wanting to break up with him doesn’t make you a bad person.”
I shrug. “I don’t know. If he wasn’t so … And Gideon … I don’t fucking know.”
The sliding door opens and Nat turns, still holding on to me.
“Hey, Gideon,” she says. “Sorry. Girl emergency.”
“Is she okay?”
“No,” Lys says flatly.
I turn to him, wiping my eyes. “Sorry. I’m fine. I mean, I’ll be fine.”
“Anything I can do?” he asks, handing me another glass of champagne. “Other than keep the bubbly flowing, of course.”
I take the glass, grateful. “This is perfect.”
He smiles. “Okay. I’m going back inside. But if you need an assassin or code breaker or Jedi Knight, you know where to find me.”
I laugh. “Okay.”
He goes and when he’s gone, Lys glances at me. “Girl. You can bag you a Jedi Knight. This is a no-brainer.”
I down the glass of champagne in one go and set it down.
“Whoa now,” Nat says.
“What are you gonna do?” Lys asks.
I feel calmer now and I decide I like champagne.
“Make sure he gets on meds,” I say. “And I’ll see if that changes anything.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Nat asks.
I swallow. “Then … I’ll break up with him.”
I will, Gavin. Get your shit together because I swear to fucking God I will end us.
THIRTY-ONE
I’m on my hands and knees, cleaning the baseboards in the dining room. It’s five-fifteen and you’re going to be here at five-thirty. It’s a few days after the party at Gideon’s, your birthday. Since it’s a Tuesday, we don’t have a show tonight, so I’m taking you out to the new Italian restaurant by your school. I tell myself that if you don’t have meds by the end of the week, I’m breaking up with you. But I’m already thinking about extending the deadline. It’s not right to kick someone when they’re down. And it feels impossible when it’s someone you love.
I try not to get my dress dirty as I spray all-purpose cleaner on the boards and then run a cloth over them. No dirt comes up on the cloth because there is no fucking dirt there.
Mom’s new thing is that the whole house needs to be cleaned from top to bottom every day. Mopping and vacuuming and dusting and toilet cleaning and all that. Yesterday, there was some dried pasta sauce on the counter and she started screaming about the house being a pigsty. Between work and school and rehearsal and now this cleaning crusade, I am totally beat. When I saw you on Sunday after our matinee, I fell asleep halfway through the movie we were watching at your house. You covered me with a blanket and just held me for the longest time.