CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
LINA
“ W here the hell have you been?” Kara asks when I walk through the door of our apartment. Her arms are crossed in a way that makes the large gold bangles on her wrists clank together. It’s almost like she’s been waiting here for me. Like a mother after curfew.
“Jesus!” I gasp, whipping around and almost dropping my keys. I grip the entryway table so I don’t fall over, leaning my hip against it. “Don’t do that!”
After my eventful breakfast with Grant and his sisters, I knew it would be a challenge to get back into my apartment without any questions being raised.
I was hoping that because Kara took Eden and Meredith into the city last night, they would all be hungover or lying in one of their bedrooms with Sex and the City playing.
I should have known I wouldn’t be that lucky.
Kara’s already dressed in a pair of baggy jeans and a black tank top. I’m sure she had a jacket coupled with it but took it off when she started cooking whatever smells so good.
Leave it to party princess Kara to be chipper as ever before ten a.m. on a Sunday.
“Where are you sneaking in from?” she prods again.
“It smells good in here! Are you making breakfast?” I ask, much too cheerfully, trying to divert the conversation.
“Don’t ignore the question.”
“Is that Lina?” Eden calls from the other room. It sounds like she sets something down on the counter before her footsteps pad through the kitchen and into the entryway. Her hair is seconds away from falling out of the claw clip it’s in as she pulls her pink plaid apron off.
She’s got flour smudged across one cheek, and the faint sound of Fleetwood Mac plays from the little Bluetooth speaker we keep propped in the corner between the knife block and the toaster.
“Finally.” Meredith follows close behind her. “Where were you?”
“We were getting there,” Kara replies.
“I stayed the night at Grant’s,” I confirm.
“You did?” Meredith’s brows furrow, accentuating the heterochromia of her eyes. It’s always made her stare more intense.
In the midst of the conversation, she bends over and begins rearranging the shoes on the shoe rack next to the door. She doesn’t do it for the same reasons Eden does it. She’s not a neat freak; she’s just not the best at being unoccupied.
She once reorganized our pantry at two in the morning. When I asked why, she said that it gave her something to do.
“Are those sweatpants new, Mer?” I ask, noticing the way they hang loosely around her waist, almost like they’re too big, but maybe that’s what she’s going for. I’ve never seen her wear them before.
“Yeah. My mom got them for me.”
I smile. “They’re cute.”
She’s also wearing a matching sweatshirt. I know it’s one of her favorites because she wears it often.
“Hey.” Kara snaps her fingers in front of me. “Stop trying to change the subject. You slept at Grant’s. Yes or no?”
“I did,” I say quietly, biting my lip while brushing through my knotted hair with my fingers.
“Finally!” Eden gasps.
“Did you actually sleep?” Kara asks.
I nod, but I might as well be taking a pickax to my pride, having to admit that I was wrong.
Eden readjusts the buttons of her cardigan. It’s red with pink lace hearts on it. Never something I would wear, but it’s cute in her fairy-princess, extremely girly way. “How do you feel?”
“Fine. I mean, I slept. That’s already an improvement.”
“True.” Meredith says, seeming slightly disinterested. She’s still lining up shoes in perfect pairs.
“Wait, but you were in bed when we left last night. How did you end up at Grant’s?” Kara looks me up and down, like she’s surveying my outfit for clues.
I wince. This was the part I didn’t want to tell them about. It’s the whole reason I didn’t change back into my running clothes before coming back.
“I went on a run,” I admit quickly, like ripping off a band-aid.
All of their faces downturn in disappointment.
“Jeez.” I hold up my hands in surrender. “Calm down. It’s not like I joined a cult.”
Eden tucks her lips into her mouth, like she doesn’t know what to say, while Meredith and Kara both level me with serious looks.
“I wouldn’t be shocked if you did, considering your decision-making skills recently,” Meredith deadpans. If I wasn’t expecting it, it would have hurt my feelings. But I knew if anyone would say it, it’d be her.
“Are running clubs considered cults? I think they could classify,” Eden adds, more as a joke, but nobody laughs.
Kara adjusts the picture frame on the wall, pretending like she’s straightening it even though it was already perfectly level. She’s avoiding eye contact. “You can’t keep doing that, Lina.”
“It’s okay, guys. Grant found me on the running path and convinced me to come back with him. That’s how I ended up in his apartment.”
None of them look surprised, and realistically, Grant finding me is probably the only reason they aren’t really reprimanding me.
“Regardless, this is so exciting!” Eden claps. “Come on, we were just starting breakfast.”
“Oh, I already ate.” Still, I follow them into the kitchen.
“You ate breakfast at Grant’s?” Meredith asks.
“Yeah.” I smirk at the idea of having to explain what happened to them. “Along with his dad and sisters.”
“What?” Kara skids to a halt.
“The three of them showed up while we were still asleep. I somehow got roped into staying.”
Every time I step inside our kitchen, I’m reminded of why I love it so much.
We have a collection of coffee mugs on the ledge above the sink that we’ve stolen from each cafe around campus.
Our fridge is covered with whiteboards and Polaroid pictures.
When you look around, there is no doubt that four college girls live here.
“No way!” Eden says as she stands on her tippy toes, grabbing a stack of plates out from the cabinet. “I didn’t know Grant had sisters.”
I would say his back scratches make it obvious, but I don’t necessarily want to get into that, so I say, “Yeah. They’re both older.”
There are already freshly made pancakes sitting out on a plate that Kara made, and Eden pulls a pan of croissants out of the oven. How she makes those from scratch, I have no idea, but I don’t tend to ask questions when I’m the one eating them.
“How was it?” Meredith asks.
“It was very awkward at first,” I answer, hopping on a barstool. “But they’re both super nice—so is his dad.”
“I can’t believe you’re already meeting the family!” Eden looks back at me from the fridge, narrowing her eyes. “But be honest, was it a cute awkward?”
“Why did I even come back?” I groan.
“Because deep down, you wanted to tell us.” Kara wags her eyebrows with a gleaming smile.
“Was it romantic?” Eden presses.
“No.”
“Liar.” She points at me.
“You paused,” Meredith says, helping her case. “That was a guilty pause, linguistically speaking.”
“It was not romantic. It was coffee and breakfast.”
“Which in your case is foreplay , ” Kara jokes.
“Did he touch your hand when he gave you the mug?” Eden asks, hopeful. “Because I will scream !”
“Did he butter your toast for you?” Meredith banters before looking at Eden like she’s lost her mind.
“I’m sure he spread something,” Kara jokes sarcastically, making Eden and Meredith both burst out laughing, even though they all know Grant and I did nothing like what Kara’s sexual innuendo suggests.
“There’s something seriously wrong with you guys.” I laugh, shaking my head.
“We’re invested!” Eden argues.
“We care deeply about your mental health and love life.” Kara pauses. “In that order.”
“Love life?” The disbelief bursts from my mouth. “Grant has nothing to do with my love life.”
Kara pushes a plate of pancakes in front of me. Then a fork. Then a bottle of syrup. “Maybe not yet…”
“Not ever, ” I amend, stabbing the pancake with the fork and ripping off a piece. “Speaking of love lives…” I look toward Kara. “What’s going on with you and Jack? He hasn’t been here in a while.”
She looks up from her own plate, hopping to sit on the counter next to the fridge. “We broke up.”
It’s the way she says it, as if it means nothing, that has me confused.
“What?” Meredith, Eden, and I all say in unison.
“It just wasn’t working anymore.” She takes another bite before setting her plate down on her lap.
“Define ‘ wasn’t working,’” Meredith says, leaning against the counter right next to her.
Eden is clearly trying to keep herself occupied with her scones, but it’s not working for her. Her teeth are continuously sinking into her lip like she’s trying not to ask the question on all of our minds.
Kara lets the silence hang for a moment before sighing. “It was nothing too serious, honestly. I think he was getting annoyed with the way I’m living.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, even though I already have an idea. We all do.
“He wanted me to slow down. I didn’t.” She says it casually, like it’s a weather report.
“You’ve always partied,” Meredith says. “It never seemed to bother him before.”
Kara shifts slightly on the counter, eyes flicking to the window in the living room before she answers. “Not like this.”
There’s a pause. Everyone in the room is collectively holding their breath.
“Kara…” Eden says softly, the edge of her voice fraying a bit.
“It’s not a big deal.” Kara’s voice hardens slightly, as if she’s trying to shut the door before we even reach it. “I got bored of college bars and warm beer. Jack didn’t like the new scene.”
“What scene?” I ask slowly.
She doesn’t look at me when she says, “You know. Rooftop things, industry parties, friends of friends who know promoters. Those kinds of things.”
I do know. And I can guess what kind of ‘refreshments’ are passed around in back rooms of those kinds of parties.
No one says anything for a beat.
Eden breaks first, her voice quieter than before. “Kara…”
“It wasn’t like that,” she cuts in, too quickly.
“You sure?” Meredith raises an eyebrow, folding her arms. “Because last year you came back from one of those parties, and you didn’t sleep for two days.”
I wasn’t living here at the time, which makes it impossible for me to speak on the situation. All I know is that this is now awkward for all of us.
We’re well aware of the type of activities she’s alluding to, but none of us are willing to say it out loud. In fear of hurting her. In fear for her.
“That was finals week,” Kara deflects.
“That was before finals week,” Meredith corrects her. “I remember because you stayed up all night pacing the living room.”
Kara hops off the counter, suddenly overly focused on rinsing her plate in the sink. “Jack just doesn’t get it. He thinks life has to look a certain way—Sunday farmer’s markets and color-coded calendars. I’m not interested in becoming that girl.”
“No one’s asking you to become anyone else,” I say gently.
She lets the water run over her hands longer than necessary. “Well, Jack was trying. He just wouldn’t admit it.”
“Kara,” Eden says again, this time stepping closer, “we’re not judging.”
“I know.” Her voice sounds tight. “I’m just…tired of pretending like it’s some big scandal. It’s been going around in Notes of New Haven. We broke up, so what? He didn’t like who I was turning into. End of story.”
But even as she says it, she won’t meet any of our eyes.
And none of us say what we’re thinking. That maybe Jack wasn’t wrong. That maybe Kara’s trying a little too hard to make it sound like it didn’t matter. That maybe we should’ve noticed sooner.
It’s a difficult line to walk. One I’ve never experienced before.
Because now I’m certain that one of my closest friends could be doing more illicit drugs than she’s ever let on and that it got to the point where her boyfriend of nearly two years broke up with her because of it.
There’s no eloquent way to describe that feeling—the one swirling around my gut, wondering what this industry she’s involved in is doing to her.
Messy. That’s what it is.
Notes of New Haven seems to think so too, their latest title reading:
PARTY GIRL AND PR NIGHTMARE. HAS JACK VOSS HAD ENOUGH?
I was naive enough to think it wasn’t true.
“Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure!” Eden jumps at the opportunity. “Except instead of talking, what if we just sat on the couch and watched Sex and the City for the rest of the day?”
“I’ve never heard a sounder idea.” Meredith nods, already placing the random dishes in the sink and heading into the living room.
“I don’t even remember where we left off,” I say, grabbing one of the five blankets off the back of the couch and settling into my normal spot.
Eden curls up beside me. “Somewhere in season three.”
“Okay, serious question,” Kara starts as she queues up the TV. “Who do you think your Mr. Big is?”
Mr. Big is exactly the kind of man I hope I never come into contact with—whether Carrie Bradshaw ends up with him or not.
Between the ego and the need to be chased, he wouldn’t last a week with me.
Just the idea makes me queasy. “I’d rather go through a slow, painful death than ever have to suffer through a Mr. Big plotline.”
Meredith snorts as she walks back in and drops onto the armchair. She doesn’t answer the question because we all know hers would be Braxton. And only because of all the back and forth they’ve been doing for reasons that are still unknown to the rest of us.
Although, I do have hope that Braxton is a much kinder man than Mr. Big. He handles Meredith in a way she needs, and even if I’m skeptical about my own love life, I’m rooting for the two of them.
Eden fiddles with her cardigan, letting it fall off her shoulders. “I think mine is still to be determined.”
It’s well known that Eden is the only one of us to have never been in a relationship. Her pure, hopeless romantic heart has always been more enchanted by the mess than actually being in it.
Mr. Big would be her worst nightmare. He’s the equivalent of commitment issues wearing a Rolex. Eden would never be able to stand that.
“Hey,” Kara says, eyeing Meredith, “Could you ask Braxton to bring us ice cream?”
Eden and I nod in agreement.
Meredith rolls her eyes like we’re ridiculous, but she picks up her phone anyway, already typing up a text.
Kara smiles victoriously, leaning further back into the armchair. “Sunday is saved.”