17. Savannah
seventeen
Savannah
There’s a long stretch of silence on the other end of the camera as I wait for my best friends, Hollis and Xanthe, to respond.
After the dressing down I gave Nico, I immediately dialed Xanthe’s number, hoping for some sound advice. Since she and Hollis are inseparable, I’ve just finished telling them all about my new neighbor and his connection to Charlotte and my colleague.
“Well?” I ask, tired of waiting.
Xanthe’s long, straight black hair falls over her face like a curtain as she turns to Hollis. “What do you think, Holls?”
“I think our girl Savy should hate-fuck the hot baseball player.”
“What?” I gasp.
“Girl, you need to bang him and get him out of your system,” Hollis repeats with an evil grin. She’s like the devil who sits on your shoulder, encouraging you to make the worst decisions possible.
“Can you be for real, please? I am not going to fuck him. Didn’t you hear what I said? He was with Charlotte. That would be too…weird.”
“So what? That was, like, ten years ago.” Hollis rolls her eyes at me and sighs.
“More like thirteen.” Me and my big mouth, blurting things out.
“See?” She throws her hands in the air. “That was so long ago it doesn’t count. Besides, I bet sex with him would be hot,” Hollis sings, her tone too cavalier, like it’s no problem to screw your sister’s ex.
“Xanthe, please be the voice of reason,” I whine.
“Sorry, bestie. But I’m with Hollis. I totally think you should smash the hot neighbor.”
My mouth falls open in shock. Xanthe is the good angel in the duo, and even she’s selling me out.
“Yes, that’s my girl.” Hollis raises her hand for Xanthe to give her a high-five.
“Why did I call you two? You’re the worst friends ever.” I tug at the end of my braid in frustration.
“Liar,” Hollis hisses as she swipes the curly red strand of hair that escaped her ponytail back behind her ear.
I stick my tongue out, making them laugh.
Hollis and Xanthe have been my very best friends since we met in college. The three of us were on the soccer team and ended up sharing a triple suite our entire time at SFBU—San Francisco Bay University.
After college, they both played professional soccer while I went to medical school. Now they coach the new expansion team in the women’s professional soccer league in New York. It’s amazing. Even in women’s soccer, coaches are predominantly men, so their appointment is extra special and important.
Hollis points between herself and Xanthe. “We are the very best friends you could ever have, and you know it.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky I love you.” I roll my eyes at the camera on my propped-up phone. I’m in the kitchen, hiding from a certain baseball player.
“So what are you going to do?” Xanthe asks.
“Nothing.” The two of them laugh at my answer like I just told them the funniest joke they’ve ever heard. “Why are you laughing at me?”
“Famous last words.” Xanthe giggles.
“You are so going to have sex with him.”
“I am not.”
“You so are,” they say at the same time with a roar of laughter.
“I am so over this conversation.” I groan as they laugh harder. Hollis wipes a tear from her eye as I cross my arms and glare at her through the screen. “I’m going to take a shower and then grab some dinner. Love you. Chat soon?”
“Totes, girl.” Xanthe waves at the camera. “Love you.”
Hollis grins suggestively at me again. “Don’t forget to call us after you hump the hottie.”
“You bitches,” I hiss.
My best friends roar with laughter and fall off the couch in hysterics as I hang up on them.
I will not be humping the hottie.
My irritation is back, but I’m not sure who I’m more annoyed with—Nico, my friends, or myself. No, that’s wrong. I know exactly who I’m mad at.
Me. I’m the problem. I mentally slap myself upside the head for being so attracted to Nico.
I’m standing under the hot spray of the shower, washing my hair and chastising myself, when a clang and a loud guttural screech scare the crap out of me.
“Ah!” I yelp as the water turns ice cold and slowly runs dry. Not a freaking drop falls from the showerhead. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Shampoo covers my hands as I reach for my towel. I wrap the soft terry cloth around my body and grab a second towel to wrap around my head so I don’t get soap into my eyes. Towel secure, I head back to the kitchen where I left my phone and call the front desk.
My favorite doorman answers on the first ring. “Bella Posto Condos. This is Roberto.”
“Hey, Roberto. It’s Savannah.”
“Oh. Hi, dear. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes, please. I’m having a problem with my water. As in, I have none.”
“Oh shoot. I’m so sorry to inform you, but due to some water leakage in the apartment below, we’ve had to turn off your water.”
“Are you kidding me?” I gasp.
“I wish I were, kiddo. It should be back up and running by tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow doesn’t help me when I have shampoo in my hair,” I grumble.
Roberto chuckles. “If you’re in a pinch, you could always ask your neighbor to borrow his shower. His apartment runs on a separate line.”
Separate lines? I’ve never heard of apartments having different water lines before.
“I’m not that desperate.” Yet.
“Suit yourself. I’ll have maintenance leave a note on your door to notify you when the water is back on.”
“Thank you, Roberto.”
“You’re welcome, Savannah.” The line goes dead, and I’m left wondering what the hell I’m going to do. I can’t ask Nico to borrow his shower, can I?
I could always drive to the hospital and use the shower in the doctors’ lounge. But if I step anywhere near the hospital’s vicinity, I’ll be sucked into working. I gnaw the inside of my cheek until it’s raw as I contemplate my next steps.
Dropping my head into my hands in defeat, I know there’s only one logical choice in this situation.
Crap on a freaking cracker.
I’m going to have to ask my neighbor if I can use his shower.
Turns out, I am that desperate.