Piper
As planned, Gabi and I met up for breakfast Tuesday morning. It was so good to spend time with her. What a treat to indulge in iced coffees, croissants, and girl talk.
She updated me on her parents (busy, happy, all up in her business), her little brother (“He’s a punk, but he’s my punk”), and piano (still has her sights set sky-high on Juilliard).
I filled her in on everything I’d learned about Stony Brook University, then explained how I’d lost my summer job and how my recently formed post–high school plan might be on hold indefinitely.
Because talk of jobs and higher education was bumming me out, I switched to gushing about Henry, whom she immediately recalled from the stories I’d told her three summers ago.
She suggested I bring him to this Friday night’s house party, hosted by Hudson, whose parents are taking his sister to Orlando for a long weekend.
“It’ll be small,” she said. “I already confirmed that Damon won’t be there. Cole’s travel baseball team has a three-day tournament in Montgomery, and according to Hudson, their dad’s making Damon go. Bring Henry—I’m dying to meet him!”
I waffled, unsure whether I wanted to subject Henry to my past life.
A few days later, after a morning spent dropping my resume off at boutiques, cafes, and souvenir shops, I called Gabi, still waffling about Hudson’s party.
“I just don’t know…” I had her on speaker so my hands would be free and I could put some effort into cleaning my room.
I wasn’t above taking such steps to patch the gigantic hole Sunday night’s explosion with Tati had created.
“Last time I went to a party, it didn’t end well,” I said, slipping a sundress onto a hanger.
I didn’t mean to make her feel bad, but the line went quiet.
“Sorry. That wasn’t—”
“No,” she cut in. “You say what you need to say. I’ll deal. If you don’t want to come, it’s totally fine. I just need you to know that you’re invited, and I’d love to see you. You and Henry.”
I told her I’d let her know, then got back to cleaning.
***
Thursday evening, I ride the elevator to the eighth floor of the east tower.
Working things out with Gabi has gotten me thinking: Henry and I have allegiances to our respective family members, and that’s how it should be, but fighting with him about my sister and his dad isn’t worth it.
Instead of enjoying the time we have left together, I’ve put a week’s worth of energy into proving a point.
I knock, hoping he’s home and Davis isn’t.
Henry pulls open the door, and when he sees me, he grins.
My heart lifts.
He looks like he very recently stepped out of the shower.
His chestnut hair’s damp, and there are spots of water across his gray T-shirt, like he threw it on without bothering to towel off completely.
He’s wearing chino shorts, and his feet are bare, revealing flip-flop tan lines, an attribute that’s so very Florida.
I smile, thinking of my own perpetually striped feet.
“I was just heading over to see you,” he says, waving me inside. “I wasn’t sure you were ever gonna come this way again.”
“Oh, Henry. Like you could get rid of me so easily.”
He shuts the door, then snags my hand. “You’re assuming I want to be rid of you,” he says softly. “And that’s where you’re wrong.”
He kisses me, a gentle press of his mouth that feels like I’m really glad you’re here.
It’s a shame when he draws back—such a shame that I loop my arms around his neck and hug him close, breathing in his soapy scent, finding comfort in his height and his solidity.
He holds me like there’s nothing else in the world he’d rather be doing.
Tears of relief well in my eyes.
I should’ve come sooner.
“Do you want to do the apology thing?” he whispers, his breath moving the hairs at the back of my neck, making me shiver. “Or should we just agree that the last week’s been shit and arguing isn’t worth our time?”
I smile. “Let’s go with the second one.”
He reaches up to unwind my arms, then takes my hand and walks me to the couch. I curl up beside him, feeling better than I have in a long time. I might not have found a new job yet, and I can’t look my sister in the eye without a rush of resentment, but Gabi and I are okay. Henry and I are okay.
Life is okay.