Chapter XIII
XIII
Lucy
Not avoid avoid. I’ll say hi. But I won’t linger. Just a casual, “Oh, hey,” and then I’ll introduce him to my superhot date while being very chill. The chillest. James will be amazed at how chill I am. And maybe a little jealous.
OK, get it together. I take a deep breath and exhale as slowly as I can.
Asher, my date, should help with that. He’s getting his master’s in electrical engineering at NYU.
My friend Zoe knows him—I can’t remember how.
What stood out from our conversation were words like “cute,” “smart,” and “I’ll give him your number.
” That’s all I really need for tonight’s purposes: someone who can pass as a reasonable, nondesperate party companion.
Walking into the party, I spot a rented karaoke setup that Rebecca probably spent way too much money on and a makeshift dance floor. In lieu of seating, she’s lined the perimeter with pool floaties in the shapes of sharks, unicorns, and swans.
And, naturally, there’s a Slip ’N Slide. Rebecca seems to have set it up in such a way that the excess water runs toward a drainpipe and not through her neighbors’ ceilings, but still. “Someone’s going to break a bone,” I quip.
“Yeah. Me,” Asher jokes.
He really is beautiful. I’ve already wondered more than once why he would possibly need any help from Zoe getting dates.
Still, even in his presence, I can’t stop myself from looking for James. It takes me seconds to spot him. He’s ten feet from the food table, facing away from me, a beer in one hand, his arm wrapped around a beautiful girl.
James
I arrived early to set up the food. With Rebecca’s approval, I went with my versions of picnic classics: stone fruit skewers with lime zest, pigs in a blanket with andouille sausage, fried chicken on waffles with hot honey in the batter.
I want Rebecca to be happy—partly because I love her, partly so I can escape this party as soon as possible.
I spot Lucy the moment she walks in. Honestly, I’ve had one eye on the door the entire time I’ve been here. Rebecca graciously warned me Lucy was bringing someone, but I am not being nearly as cool about it as I promised myself I would be.
Of course, she shows up with a goddamn Adonis. Probably from her law school. That place must be crawling with sinewy trust fund bros dying for the chance to take her out.
I shake my head, annoyed at myself for being so bitter.
Lucy is free to do what she wants, same as me.
She doesn’t catch me staring, and I’m able to turn away and put on a good show of being nonchalant.
Now, if I can just convince myself to actually be nonchalant, and maybe take some more interest in my own date.
Delia is a waitress at my catering company.
She moved to New York six months ago from Chicago in the hopes of breaking into theater.
I honestly don’t know much about her beyond that, but we once spent half an hour at a wedding we worked coming up with outlandish reasons why the mother of the groom seemed so pissed at the priest. Maybe he was her estranged stepbrother who could only get an invite by posing as an officiant?
Or maybe he borrowed money from her to start a dog grooming business and then refused to repay her when he changed course and became a man of God?
We had a good laugh, and I got her number.
I met Lucy the next afternoon.
But yesterday, at a banquet, I felt someone nudge my shoulder. Delia whispered that she’d found out the truth: The mother of the groom was having an affair with the priest’s hairdresser. I asked her out on the spot.
Lucy
I’m not in any rush to fake being casual in front of James, so I pull Asher in the direction of the drinks.
Alcohol will help. I fish through the cooler for some sort of canned cocktail, but Asher redirects me to the cheap beer.
“Gotta pace ourselves. How will we have the stamina to hog the karaoke machine all night if we’re plastered? ”
A little of the tension leaves my shoulders. “We really don’t have to stay that long. I just needed to make an appearance—”
“Heresy!” It’s Rebecca, dressed in a satin tube top with a matching floor-length satin skirt.
I laugh and grin, shaking my head lovingly at her. “Is that your prom dress!?”
“Fuck yeah it is! How many more birthdays will I have where this motherfucker still fits?”
Asher puts his hand up for a high five. “You look amazing.”
“I like him already,” Rebecca says, slapping his palm.
I introduce them, and she gives Asher an approving once-over before waving him away.
“I need to talk to Lucy. Go chat with Mrs. Jenkins and Mrs. Howard. They’re lesbians and murderers. You’ll love them.” A confused Asher follows Rebecca’s pointed finger and obediently steps off to find what destiny awaits him with the octogenarians chortling in the corner.
Rebecca steps closer and lowers her voice as we watch Asher greet the delighted old ladies. “He’s very cute.”
“Right?”
“You know who else is cute? My cousin. The one you’re pretending not to be into. James. James Marcus Shaw. Remember him?”
“Who?”
Rebecca pokes me in the ribs, making me laugh. “I gotta say, you both coming with random-ass dates feels very tryhard.”
“James hasn’t texted me in two weeks.”
“Have you texted him?”
“Nope. So there you go.”
Rebecca gives an exaggerated sigh, and I respond with a tight side hug. I am sorry she won’t be getting this particular birthday wish, but talking about James when he’s within a hundred feet of me makes me feel itchy.
We turn our attention back to Asher, who has Mrs. Jenkins and Mrs. Howard giggling like teenagers.
“Seriously, where’d you find this guy?” Rebecca asks. She’s fully ogling him, and I should be too. But before I can stop myself, I look across the roof at James—and he’s looking back at me. His expression is neutral, as if he’s lost in thought. But as soon as our eyes catch, he stiffens.
And here we go.
James
And here she comes. Guess it’s time to get this over with.
I press a casual smile onto my face, and I get the distinct feeling that Lucy’s is just as forced.
My arm is wrapped loosely around Delia’s waist as she chats with one of Rebecca’s college friends, and I give her a little squeeze, which makes her grin up at me.
She’s probably eight inches shorter than Lucy—the top of her head barely comes to my shoulder. I miss looking at Lucy at eye level.
And I miss the feel of her hair. The sound of her whisper. With every step closer, I’m in increasing danger of falling back into her gravity.
But no. She’s coming over here just to be polite. It’ll be over in a minute, and then I can give all my attention to the woman I brought to the party.
“Delia?” Lucy gasps, ten feet from us.
“Lucy!” Delia exclaims. “Is that you?”
Before I can register what’s happening, Delia slips out of my grasp and runs over to Lucy, wrapping her in a bear hug.
“Oh my god, Delia! What are you doing here?” Lucy asks.
“I just moved to town. I’m an actor. At least, I’m trying to be.”
“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!” Lucy beams.
“Well, don’t be too happy. So far I’ve booked an off-off-Broadway production of Cats. It’s not even the musical. It’s a one-act drama. About cats.”
Now they’re both laughing, and I feel like I’ve been hit in the face with a shovel. “Sorry, how do you two—?”
“Lucy and I were best friends from, like, eighth grade to eleventh? She was always traveling, but we’d write each other letters until she got back. Then my family moved and things got a little crazy—”
“Oh my god, how’s your sister?” Lucy jumps in.
“So much better.” Lucy and Delia slip right into old times, giving me an opportunity to put the pieces together, or try to. They know each other. That’s . . . good? It’s not bad? Except now they’ll want to talk all night, which definitely ruins my escape plan.
Lucy
As I catch up with Delia, I’m simultaneously trying to sift through this unexpected twist of fate. James is dating Delia? Have they slept together? What does this mean? It shouldn’t mean anything to me. But.
“I’m sorry,” Delia says. “This is my date, James.” His blue-gray eyes meet mine, and he seems just as bewildered as I am. We stare at each other stupidly for a few seconds before Delia catches on. “Do you two know each other?”
Oh, do we.
I hope that James will speak first and save me from having to explain whatever the hell our connection is, but he’s just standing there, frozen.
Rebecca glides over to our little group.
“Lucy is my best friend, and James is my cousin,” she tells Delia.
I’m grateful for the save—but I also know she’s relishing this whole situation.
Rebecca doesn’t know anything about my friendship with Delia, but she must have overheard enough, because she looks completely and annoyingly tickled.
“Got it.” Delia smiles. “So you’re all friends?
” This time Rebecca doesn’t respond. She keeps her mouth firmly shut and looks eagerly between James and me as we both .
. . just stand there. Oh god. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and I see the familiar red at the top of James’s ears.
If Delia didn’t pick up on the weirdness before, she definitely has now.
“You were right, Rebecca.” Asher startles all of us, appearing behind me and throwing an arm around my shoulders. “I’m in love with Mrs. Howard and Mrs. Jenkins. I want them to adopt me.”
Rebecca laughs. I realize I’ve forgotten to breathe for the last ten seconds and take a deep inhale, reminding myself not to freak out. Maybe the worst is over. I can introduce Asher, grab Delia’s number, and get the hell out of here.
Yeah, maybe this won’t be terrible.
James
This is terrible. Now that I know Delia and Lucy are old friends, any attraction toward Delia evaporates. Dating her suddenly feels wrong.
But maybe I can still figure out how to act normal. All I have to do is shake the hand of this too-handsome bro without launching him off the roof, and everything will be fine.