44. Evelyn
44
Evelyn
All I have to say after listening to the demos (on repeat) is that you’re back. No, this is better. Not pushing anything but this would be one hell of a way to roll Lyla’s brand out to the public.
G arrett and I did it. After yesterday, we only have one last song to write. This is what I came here to do. But my stomach sinks as I read the final lines of the message.
No luck with the contract extension. They’re not budging on it. I’m sorry, E. I do need an answer soon or there might not be a contract to negotiate.
-V
I have two days before I promised Garrett I’d have an answer. Vincent can wait that long, too.
“I’m going to get caffeine!” I call out as I swing my legs off the bed. Garrett’s reply is muffled by the sound of running water from the shower. He’s been so understanding, but right now I need a minute alone.
I don’t bother changing out of the shirt I slept in. I throw on a coat and sweatpants then head outside to be greeted by a rush of cold air. Once I leave the neighborhood, there’s this prickling awareness that crawls up my neck. Do I usually make this much eye contact with people? I check to make sure my clothes aren’t on inside out after a woman gives me a once over as I pass the gazebo.
Okay, weird.
When I get to Love is Brewing a couple walks out of the shop and the moment they see me, their casual conversation sputters out.
I give them a wave as a knee-jerk response, which only makes it worse. They give me tight smiles then rush away.
Right before I push through the door, my phone rings in my pocket. I pull my coat tighter around me then take a seat at one of the empty tables in front of the shop.
“Hey, you called yesterday. But I’m not opposed to more birthday wishes,” I tease my brother.
“Ev,” Drew says.
“What’s wrong?” Panic quickens my pulse, mixed with the weird vibes I’ve been picking up today, I already feel like I’m going to throw up.
“Are you dating Garrett?”
“What?” I blurt. “Did you hear from Avery and Wes?” Avery and my brother might be on good terms and Wes might be his old bandmate, but I doubt either of them would say something to him.
“No. Wait, how do they know?”
“I told Avery, and well, Wes was kind of just there.” My thoughts stumble. “How do you know?”
“God,” he says on a huff.
“I really doubt God told you,” I say because I can’t help myself. “How do you know?”
“Fuck. Just. Fuck,” he says, almost to himself. “I’m not the only one who knows.”
“Great, keep it vague,” I say, rolling my eyes even though he can’t see.
“There was an engagement video that took off overnight because the guy got her favorite singer to sing her favorite song, I’m assuming you know the rest because you were in it.”
I realize exactly who he’s concerned about. “Mom and Dad.”
“If they haven’t called yet, does that mean you aren’t…” He trails off, letting me fill in the implications of his words.
“Yes, we’re together,” I say. I won’t ever deny it, not now when it’s inconvenient. If I do, how do I deserve him when it’s easy and straightforward.
“Do you want me to call them?” Drew offers, and I’m tempted to accept.
“I mean, that would be nice,” I say, “but I should deal with it.”
“Ev, I am happy for you,” he says, and it’s a nice consolation prize considering what’s to come.
“It is nice that you’re not going to threaten to punch the guy,” I prod because I can’t help myself.
“I mean, I’d win in a fight,” he says easily, “but that would be a lot of effort to get all defensive over my adult sister. I’ve got to go. Love you.”
“Love you.”
I push into Love is Brewing and take my spot at the back of the line. For the last few weeks I’ve been so good about not checking Lyla’s name in headlines, but now as I check for my real one, I’m sucked back into the vortex.
“Viral Proposal with Fool’s Gambit Favorite reveals secret relationship.”
“Sparks fly with Fool’s Gambit bassist and drummer's younger sister.”
“Avery Sloane’s close friend. Garrett Larson’s new fling. Who is Evelyn Mariano?”
Each time I tap a new article I feel like I’m slipping further and further from my body. This is what I’ve been avoiding for so long. Three seconds at the end of a video did this. Three seconds caused my name to trend on social media and send an influx of followers. In less than a day journalists and gossip blogs have discovered enough information to make me feel exposed in front of millions of digital eyes. If this is the reaction to something so small, what would happen if they found out that I’m Lyla?
In some ways, I’ve known. I’ve seen how Avery and Drew have dealt with media attention. I was already terrified of it, how people will pick apart every small part of my life. I can’t help but think about Oliver and Quinn, how being close to me would put them at risk of similar privacy violations.
I shuffle along with the line on autopilot. The barista’s voice startles me back to the moment when I order and it takes me long minutes to remember the names of drinks I’ve asked for hundreds of times over the years.
“Don’t you usually get the matcha with oat milk?” the barista asks.
“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” I say.
“We all have those days…just means you need your caffeine fix, right?”
“Yeah,” I readily agree and tap my phone that still has the article I was reading pulled up. I catch the barista reading the headline the second before my card pulls up on the screen. Great.
At least the moment of embarrassment makes me exit out of the browser so no one else can see that I’ve Googled myself.
I make it out the door and a few feet down the sidewalk when Mom calls. I know it’s her before I take out my phone, like I can feel her frustration through the radio waves.
“Hey!” I answer, refusing to implicate myself until I need to. For all I know she’s vowed to not go on the internet.
“Why is it I heard from Lori this morning that you are in a relationship with Garrett? You know how embarrassing it is to have to play along like I knew? My own daughter doesn’t tell me something but everyone else already seems to know,” she reprimands, and I feel myself shrinking while wanting to give the exact right answer to placate her.
“I was going to tell you,” I say.
“But you didn’t,” she snaps.
“It’s new, I didn’t want to say anything until it was official,” I say, still trying to mend the already fraying threads of this situation.
“It looks official now.”
I jump to explain. “We didn’t post the video. We were just helping someone and they posted it. I’m still on vacation.”
“So you go on vacation with him and you still don’t think that’s important enough to share? The only man I’ve gone on vacation with was your father.”
I don’t know if it’s the pressure or the exhaustion that causes it but I snap, not completely, not the way that I would have as a teenager, but more than I have in years. “I am a grown woman. My relationships are my concern, not yours. I’m thirty. This isn’t a guy who’s taking me to homecoming.”
“But you didn’t tell us.”
“I didn’t,” I echo. “I should be allowed to choose that.”
“What else aren’t you saying? First, an entire relationship, what else are you comfortable keeping from us?” she demands.
“I have to go,” I say. I can’t do this right now, not when she won’t listen. Not when I know the only thing on her mind is Drew and how he pulled away. This conversation isn’t about me. It’s never been about me. I wish it was. Maybe then I’d actually be comfortable telling them things instead of doing it to appease them. I hate that they make me feel so young sometimes, but I guess that’s what parents do. They have a special gift, to tear you down to an early version of yourself even when you’ve grown.
“No, we're talking.” Her voice sharpens further, but I can’t take another cut from the words she’s wielding against me.
“No. You’re talking and I can’t do this right now. Maybe you should ask yourself why I didn’t tell you.” I hang up the second the words are out. She calls back again. The notifications keep popping up as I text Quinn.
I can’t do this.
Evelyn
I’m doing the interview.
Quinn
I'll pick you up in an hour.