Chapter 14 #2
Gemma mentioned Vivienne’s battle with bulimia a while ago, so I know she struggled with the eating disorder in the past. I’m not sure how she found out, but the news wasn’t shocking.
I remember Vivienne’s frequent “tummy aches” that always seemed to make her throw up after pizza night.
I was too young to think much of it back then.
The pressure to maintain a specific figure and weight in ballet must be brutal, so I’m not surprised Vivienne was affected by it.
She gives her head a quick shake and licks her lips as she pours in the milk, looking slightly uneasy. “I’ve gained some weight since I left the company,” she says, her voice quieter now, before taking a bite of cereal.
“You look great.” And she does. Vivienne’s curvier than I remember, but to me, she looks stronger. Healthier. But I’m not inside her head. I can only imagine how hard it must be to accept change after being so rigid with herself for so long.
“Thank you.” Her smile is small but sincere. “I’m trying to stay balanced.”
“I get that.” I take another sip of my drink. It’s best to change the subject. “So, tell me about your plans to become a lawyer. Are you going to apply to law school or what?”
I’m feeling super relaxed and chattier than usual.
“I’m graduating this December,” she says, her face lighting up. “I’ve been juggling studying and dancing for the past few years. It hasn’t been easy, and you know my mother. She nearly collapsed when she found out I’d applied to law school behind her back and against her wishes.”
“Oh, I know all about mothers,” I say, draining my drink and realizing I might need another.
Vivienne chuckles, shaking her head as her cereal crunches in her mouth.
She softly taps her lips with a napkin and says, “I’m planning to move to the city after graduation.
But I haven’t told my parents yet.” She shimmies her shoulders like she can’t wait to keep defying them.
“I’ve already found a place and a roommate. ”
“Oh, wow! I’m so happy for you!” I push back my stool, stand up, and pour some ice into my plastic cup to fix myself another gin and tonic. How convenient that my mom taught me how to make them.
“So, are you going to apply for a job as a lawyer?” I sit back down next to Vivienne to continue our conversation.
Running into her tonight was a pleasant surprise and exactly what I needed.
Talking to someone outside the same five or six people I see all the time has helped me get out of my own head.
“Well,” she says with a sigh, lowering her spoon into the bowl.
“I need to pass the bar first. I’ll try to take it as soon as possible, but I ended up at a shitty law school because it’s all I could afford.
I hate saying that, but it’s the truth. It’s not the best school out there, and it pisses me off because I could’ve gone to NYU or Columbia.
I was accepted, you know? But my mom convinced my dad not to help with my tuition, so even with financial aid, I couldn’t afford it. It was too expensive.”
I officially hate Vivienne’s mom.
“I have no doubt you’ll pass the bar on your first try.”
“We’ll see …” she says, her voice laced with incredulity, as she pours more cereal into her bowl. “I’m nervous about failing and proving my mother right. That all I was ever meant to do was dance, and nothing more.”
“You’ll pass the goddamned bar. You’ll see,” I say, squeezing her arm.
She meets my gaze and nods, just once, as if trying to convince herself it’s possible.
“I’m going to take this upstairs and watch a movie,” she says, standing up and lifting her cereal bowl from the counter. “It was so nice to see you, Belén. I’m so freaking proud of you. I’m always cheering for you whenever I get to see you on TV.”
“Thank you, Viv. It was great catching up.”
She walks away and I pick up my drink from the countertop. It’s time to look for Gemma. She’s out there somewhere with Paxton.
I’m moving through the massive house when Robbie walks in the front door, flashing one of his cheery smiles.
His blond hair is perfectly done as always and he’s wearing jeans, a gray t-shirt with a Mos Eisley print, and his black-framed glasses.
His smile dissolves when he sees me. A few guys approach him, greet him, but he’s still looking at me in a what the heck are you doing here kind of way.
His reaction surprises me. I didn’t think he would mind seeing me here.
I can’t make myself care. Not really.
I keep sipping on my gin, waiting for Robbie to approach me, and he does in a few long strides.
Shit, I can’t help but laugh. I’m sure it’s the gin making me chuckle, and I’m loving the feeling.
It’s a warm sensation in my chest accompanied by a tingling feeling on my temples.
Even my skin feels different when Robbie grabs my arm gently and leans in to say, “What are you doing here, Belén? And drinking?”
“Paxton invited me,” I lie. “And this is my first drink.” Another lie.
“Liam’s been texting me nonstop. He’s worried sick. I told him you were at Gemma’s, but—”
“Liam hasn’t texted me,” I say, cutting him off. “He called the house earlier while I was in the shower, and Mom picked up. But I just need to clear my head, okay?” I smile, and he rolls his eyes at me. “I’ll call him tomorrow.”
“Show me your phone.”
“What for?”
Robbie sticks his hand inside my purse and grabs my phone.
“Your phone’s off, Belén. No wonder Liam’s going nuts.”
Oh, right …
When I got to Gemma’s, I turned off my phone because I wanted to disconnect for a while.
But I should’ve guessed Liam would call Robbie after a few hours of trying to contact me with no success.
I know I should’ve called him back. I feel like shit.
I do miss him. What the hell was I thinking, ignoring him like this?
“And what are you drinking, by the way? You’re all tipsy.” He takes the glass from my hand and sips it. “Wonderful.” He snorts and shakes his head in disappointment. “Gin. Really?”
I ignore him and turn on my phone so I can call Liam back as soon as I’m done here with Robbie.
“Dad will be pissed when he finds out you’re out here drinking,” Robbie says, refusing to give me my cup back.
He’s being annoying. Robbie never worries about me like this, and now, all of a sudden, he’s worked up about me coming to a party? I’ll be eighteen soon, and all I wanted was one night to distract myself. I never get to do anything but train, study, or play tennis.
“And why would Dad find out about this?” I ask, frowning.
Robbie lets out an exasperated groan as Paxton and Gemma approach us.
“Hey, Robbie,” Gemma says with a sweet smile, leaning her head against Paxton’s arm. She’s taken off her blazer, revealing her spaghetti-strap sequin top. She looks stunning and is by far the best-dressed girl at the party.
“Hey, man!” Paxton greets Robbie with a handshake, but Robbie only seems more annoyed now that Gemma’s here with me. We’re like his little sisters, and suddenly he’s feeling the urge to play protector or something. But we’re just having fun.
“Robbie here,” I say, pointing at my brother with my thumb as I glance at Paxton and Gemma, “wants to rat me out to my dad for coming to the party and having a drink. What do you guys think?”
Paxton laughs.
“You’re kidding, right?” He drapes an arm around Gemma’s shoulders, and Robbie sniffs, pushing his chunky black frames up the bridge of his nose. “We’re taking great care of them. Chill, bro. Let me get you a beer.”
Paxton drops a kiss on Gemma’s cheek, his lips almost brushing the corner of her mouth, before turning and heading toward the kitchen.
“Can I get a refill?” I shout as Paxton leaves.
“Sure thing!” he calls back.
One more drink should be harmless.
“Paxton? Really?” Robbie says to Gemma with a grimace, scanning her from head to toe. “He’s a player, so I’d be careful if I were you.”
“Well, I’m in a playful mood tonight, so thanks for the heads-up,” Gemma replies, tucking her short dark hair behind her ear.
“Paxton’s really nice,” I say to Robbie, chuckling after Gemma’s remark. “And you’re not going to rat us out to Dad. Or have you forgotten how many times I’ve had your back with all those girls you’ve snuck into the apartment late at night, when Dad’s made it clear that’s not allowed?”
Gemma chokes on her drink, clearing her throat a few times, and Robbie’s looking at me like he could kill me for revealing that in front of her.
“And Paxton’s the player?” Gemma scoffs. “Takes one to know one.”
“Belén’s drunk and blowing things out of proportion,” Robbie starts to explain in a serious and slightly agitated tone. I gape at him because I’m not drunk. Or maybe I am. I don’t know for sure what being drunk should feel like, but it’s not like I’m lying about it. “That’s not at all how—”
“Right,” Gemma says, cutting Robbie off mid-sentence.
Paxton returns with our drinks, carrying two beers in one hand and my cup in the other. He hands me my drink and passes a beer to Robbie, who takes an angry sip.
Robbie loves pointing fingers at others, even though he’s not the innocent little computer nerd he likes to pretend he is. He’s a good guy, sure. But he’s also a single college guy living in New York City. We’ll never be this age again. He’s having his fun, so why can’t we?
“Give your poor sister a break,” Gemma says to Robbie. “You owe her, or so it seems.” She weaves her fingers with Paxton’s and they walk away.
Robbie drags a hand down his face, and I’m positive he’s about to go full alpha nerd on me when my phone rings. It’s Liam.
“Good luck with that,” Robbie says over his shoulder as he walks off.
I fumble with my phone, knowing how important it is to take this call, but it slips from my hand and falls to the floor.
I try my best to bend down without flashing the people behind me, but this mini skirt isn’t helping.
It’s no use. As I tug my skirt down, someone picks up my phone and places it back in my hand.
“Here you go, Bells.”
I freeze.