Chapter 12 #2
“Since I don’t know your side, I can’t say, but from what I know, Loon, it really seems to me like you both need to try to park all the emotion that’s getting in the way and hear each other out.”
“We did that last night.”
She studied me closely as she said, “I don’t think so.”
“I do. And that’s all that counts in this scenario.
Now, I’m still pissed at you because that was some bullshit yesterday.
So you need to give me some space. And I’m pissed at the Angels because they went along with that bullshit of doing a job without me or even any input from me, so do me a favor.
Get them to give me some space too. I’ll get over it. You know I will. But I need some time.”
“We can give you time. And I’ll give you time, but before I do that, I want you to know, I talked to Cap about what I said, also sharing how my mouth ran away with me when Harlow and Javi were going through their thing.
He says he thinks it’s cool, how out there we are with each other.
How we don’t let shit fester. He also thinks what I said to you was really not right, and he shared I need to get a handle on thinking before speaking.
And he’s right. That’s twice I let my mouth run away from me, and I’m ashamed of the first time, I’m kicking myself I let there be a second. ”
That meant a lot to me, but I wasn’t in the space to give her that verbally in the mo’.
Instead, I communicated it with my eyes (we were best bitches, we could do that kind of thing, and I could tell she got my message), before I said, “I’m going to karaoke, but not with you guys. Dream texted this morning. I’m third wheel on her date with Byron.”
She made a face.
I felt her reaction to my bones.
“I think she’s freaked out,” I explained.
“Byron heard us talking about karaoke, suggested it to her, and she thought it was a good way to have a date without having too much pressure. How I factor in this, I can’t fathom.
But I’m hellbent on the success of my We’re Gonna Be Functional Sisters If It Kills Me, Dammit Plan, so I’m going on a date with my grown-ass sister, mother of three children, like I’m some kind of regency chaperone. ”
Raye pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t laugh.
At her reaction, I didn’t admit it then, but I felt some relief that little chat was over, and she knew we’d be all right.
However, she knew this because we always were.
That was true friendship. You didn’t get along every second. But after you didn’t, you sorted it out, gave a person you cared about space to be human and make mistakes, you both learned from it and moved on.
Not to mention, normally, this sitch with Dream and Byron was funny. If you weren’t the one who had to play third wheel on their date.
But the way my life was right then, I wasn’t laughing.
As such, I turned my back on my bestest bestie and walked away.
* * *
Okay, ranking the five worst days of my life.
Day five: when my family carried through with Dream’s intervention, one of the results of which was, instead of her just being consistently annoyed with me, for some reason, this turned the full force of her vitriol on me.
Day four: yesterday with the one-two punch of Raye and the Angels doing business without me, and Knox’s and my most recent blowout.
Day three: when Raye and her dad learned all that had gone down with Macy. Although it was closure, the news was never going to be good. And it wasn’t. Watching my bestie, her dad and her stepmom go through finally putting Macy to rest was agony.
Day two: getting the phone call when I learned Knox got shot, but this was only at number two because he was going to be all right.
And the overall winner: Knox and me breaking up.
All of that said, I was pretty sure this day fit in there somewhere, I just couldn’t figure out where, but I was thinking it was a tie with day four.
It wasn’t about Raye getting the girls to give me space. I’d asked for that, I couldn’t bitch about it.
Not to mention, I got a lot of we’re sorry looks, mingled with we’re worried looks, mingled with you need to talk to us looks.
After having decided—around one o’clock in the morning, when I’d petered out on crying jag number three, and before crying jag number four hit—that my twenty-four-hour grudge would be doubled, I ignored them all.
But I was me, and I knew me.
I had to stew. I had to let my feelings run amuck.
Then I could get a handle on it, assess the situation and deal with it after the feelings had burned themselves out, and I could handle it like a grown-up.
And now we were at karaoke.
The whole crew was across the room at their conglomeration of tables.
All the Hottie Squad (save Cody and Jeff, who I knew from their absence were manning the control room, or on dates), the Angels, Tito, Tex and Nancy (sadly, we wouldn’t hear the dulcet tones of Titus, because I knew he was invited, but he hadn’t showed).
And there I was, across the space with Dream and Byron.
This was case in point why I let my feelings run amuck so all the illogical, emotion-fueled bullshit could run its course.
Because even though it was me who warned them to back off, and it was me who agreed to do whatever-it-was-I was currently doing with my sister and Byron, I still felt like I’d been singled out.
Adrift from my people.
Lost.
Then again, Raye had sided with Cap and Knox, and my bitches had gone about business without me, so it wasn’t that irrational I was feeling cast out.
Dream and Byron were sitting beside each other, me around the table from them, and at first, this was a little awkward, for all three of us.
But as the affliction of hearing people with very little talent massacre good songs (also shitty ones) and the AAHS wandered in—forming their big crew that did not include me, but did include Knox—Dream and Byron noticed, they scooted their chairs closer together, bent their heads to each other, and started whispering while frequently casting glances in my direction.
As for my part, I drank.
Around about song seven, Dream scooted her chair over to me.
I turned from watching a guy destroying Kenny Loggins’s kickass “Danger Zone,” something I was thinking should be classified as a felony, to my sister, catching Byron across the table, watching me with concern on his face.
Oh yeah.
The dude thought of me as a little sister.
“What the hell is going on?” Dream whispered in my ear.
“Don’t worry about it. Have your date,” I said to the stage. I felt her stiffen at me blowing her off and hastened to add, “I’ll tell you later.”
“None of them have even come over to say hi,” she noted, sounding, even being heard over the “Danger Zone,” more than mildly miffed.
Dream, angry on my behalf.
Wonders never ceased.
I turned to face her. “Yesterday, Raye and I had an argument, then Knox and I had it out, and you know my ability to hold a grudge.”
Weirdly, something soft hit her face when I said that, before she replied, “Yeah, I know all about that.”
And…
Holy crap.
From that expression on her face, it hit me so hard, I felt winded.
But not in a bad way.
She and I had history. We knew each other’s habits, personalities and foibles.
And Dream was glad she knew those things about me, even the bad stuff.
Giving it a second to think on, I was glad I knew not only that she was at her prettiest when she was doing something for or with her kids, I was glad I knew she had a chip on her shoulder and the ability to eat the utter grossness that was vegan parmesan cheese.
Because she was my sister.
There might be things we needed to get down to so we understood each other better…
But we had the foundation to understand each other.
Another shocker.
This meant the world to me.
“I’ll get over it, and we’ll get back to regularly scheduled programming,” I assured her.
“I take it with how he’s completely ignored you tonight, your conversation with Knox wasn’t a good one.”
Oh yeah.
Then there was that, the Knox ignoring me thing, which might bump this up to worst day ever number three.
Knox didn’t even scan for me when he limped in (and his limp was even less prominent, I noticed as I idiotically watched every step). And since he sat down, although I’d stolen glances, I hadn’t once caught his eye or felt his attention on me.
So I guessed when I said we were over, he heard me, and he was all in.
My stomach curled into itself just thinking that.
“No. It wasn’t a good one,” I answered Dream’s question.
It took her a second to work up to it but work up to it she did.
“The kids go to their dads’ Sunday afternoon. Once they’ve been picked up, we’ll meet somewhere for a drink or something so you can tell me what happened.”
Wait.
Did my sister just ask me on a sister date?
Oh shit.
All right, I thought for certain I’d let loose enough that it wouldn’t happen again for at least another year.
But I felt it.
I was going to cry again.
“Chin up,” she bit. “Don’t let him see you cry.”
“I’m not about to cry for him,” I retorted. “I’m about to cry because I’m worried I’ve been a shit sister, and that sucks.”
She sat back. “You haven’t been a shit sister.”
I sniffled. “I haven’t?”
“Oh my God, Luna, I’m on a date, and I think I like him,” she snapped. “Don’t make this about you.”
Ah.
There was the Dream I knew.
Because there I was, on a date with my grown sister because she asked me to be there as a buffer.
But I’d had it out with two of the people I loved the most in all the world the day before, and they, and most everyone else I loved, was across the room, avoiding me.
And still, I was sitting right there, for her, and somehow, this was about me.
After another sniffle, I grinned.
She rolled her eyes.
Someone said into the microphone, “This is a request, and I’m supposed to say this song is from the room to the moon…”