18. Lists
Chapter 18
Lists
Ariana
L il and I often do our sneak-out-of-a-movie-and-drive-our-stolen/hidden-car thing on Saturdays, but obviously, it’s not happening right now. Which sucks ass.
We spend the day sitting by the pool and playing pinball. Luca must be doing stuff with Dad. We only see them at dinner. After ogling superheroes from our couch for a few hours, we move to Lil’s closet.
We all have enormous walk-in closets. We turned the back of Lil’s into our hideaway. Not that it’s a secret or anything, but it’s our special space. Instead of a treehouse when we were little, we had Lil’s closet, and it’s still our haven. It’s where we go to talk about dreams and love and crushes and just… anything.
It’s also where we go to get a little fucked up. Drinks and game night at Amanda’s is fun, but I prefer to stay at home. Lil’s slightly more sociable than I am, but not by much. I don’t usually drink much anywhere else, but last night, I wanted to let loose and knew Luca would get us home safely. He did it with a scowl on his face, though .
Why do I want his frowny lips on mine so bad? I seriously considered saying fuck it and kissing him. Fuck, I seriously considered dragging him to a vacant bedroom.
Forcing thoughts of Luca out of my brain, I plop down onto an oversized cushion and pop open a soda. After chugging some, I pour cinnamon whiskey in the can. Lil does the same, but with watermelon vodka. I pull up a playlist and music starts playing through the Bluetooth speaker in the wall.
“I have an idea.” There’s mischief in my sister’s baby blue eyes.
I cock my eyebrow as I take a drink. “Hit me with it.”
“We make a list?—”
I interrupt her with an overdramatic groan. Lil likes to make a lot of lists. I only make them when I have to, which is more often than I like because otherwise I forget stuff.
“Shush and listen, bitch,” she laughs and throws a pillow shaped like a giant dino nugget at me. “A list of shit to do this summer that will drive Luca insane.”
Well, there goes any chance I had of keeping my mind off Luca. Okay, there was no chance that was happening anyway. “That’s evil, even for us. Let’s do it!” Sure, I might be crushing on him, but I think annoying him will be fun. And possibly productive. Maybe crack that armor some more.
“Okay, so first thing is shopping.”
My top lip curls on instinct, and I flinch a little at the pull on my wound. “But we kind of hate just shopping.”
“Yeah, but I bet he hates it more. And we can go to specific places we do like. We haven’t gone to The Canal Shoppe in forever, and something tells me the whole setup in the Venetian will annoy Luca. I always need new makeup, you always need new shoes, and think how awkward he would be, standing around the lingerie store.” She starts writing in a notebook she keeps in here just for making fucking lists .
“Why do you think he would be awkward there? He’s probably been loads of times with girlfriends.” I chew on my lower lip and fidget with the locket around my wrist. Lil’s eyes narrow in on my fingers moving the charm along the chain. I drop it and pick up my drink.
She lifts her eyes to mine and tilts her head. “Going to the lingerie store with his cousins will definitely be awkward.”
“Hey, your cousin. Not mine.” I gesture at her with my can.
“Right. Sure. It’s not like he’s Dad’s nephew and has the same last name or anything. If Dad’s best friend is our uncle, isn’t his brother, too?”
“I don’t remember ever meeting the man, so no. And we’re going off-topic here.”
“Because you got weird about the lingerie store and Luca and old girlfriends?—”
“What’s next on your list, Lilith?”
She purses her lips exactly like Mom. “Fine. Moving on. Will circle back to you being weird. Nail salon. Pedicures for sure, manis if we’re feeling like committing.” I pick the polish off my fingers so fast it’s not worth sitting through a manicure very often, but pedicures are heaven.
“Ooooohhh we haven’t done that in too long. Maybe hair, too. The pink is fading.” I twirl a lock around my finger, debating whether or not I’ll change it. The purple I had a few months ago was pretty.
“Yes!” She smiles and adds to our list.
My can is about half gone, so I hold it out to her. “Switch with me.” She takes another swig of hers, and then we swap.
“Maybe a spa day. Mud bath, facials, those super massage chairs… that place Mom took us to for my birthday last year.”
I’m not sure if the mushy feeling in my chest is from the alcohol or the thoughtfulness of my family, but I haven’t had much to drink yet. None of those spa treatments require me to get naked in front of someone.
“If they let us back in after the mud fight we had last time, you mean?”
“We’re DeVilles.” She adds it to her list. “What else?”
My phone dings, and a few seconds later, so does Lil’s. Luca isn’t using the group chat tonight.
Luca Drinks Boring Coffee
Where r u?
I’m sorry, I don’t understand when you don’t use full words.
Ariana. Where. Are. You?
Is this William Shatner?
How did you get my number?
“Luca’s texting me because he can’t find us.” Lil snorts.
“Me, too.”
“I told him to stand in the corner and count to a million,” Lil laughs.
“What else do we have in here right now?” I ask as I finish off my drink. We ignore the barrage of texts Luca’s furiously sending both our phones.
I put some coconut rum in a root beer while Lil puts some peach schnapps in a cream soda. Wrinkling my nose at her can, I say, “That one’s all yours, I have too many memories of throwing that shit up.”
“You did have some epic vomit that night.”
We continue brainstorming and adding to our list. Lil writes the book store, a concert, karaoke, the farmer’s market, a musical, and an art gallery on the page. We debate whether Luca would love or hate mini golf while we each make one more drink, and put it on the list, followed by a bunch of question marks. I kind of want to go either way. It’s been a long time since we played mini golf. Lil’s handwriting gets worse as the night goes on. We avoid the Strip as much as possible, but a few of the casino attractions make it onto the list.
“Put the tattoo shop on that thing,” I say.
“What are we getting next?”
I shrug so hard I almost lose my balance. “Fuck if I know. But something.”
“I’m not getting anything pierced, Ariana Ray.” She points her pen at me.
“I know that, Lilith May.”
I talked her into getting her tongue pierced with me on my eighteenth birthday. I already had my nose and belly button done at that point, along with maybe half the hoops in my ears I have now, but Lil only had a single set of holes in her ears. I thought for sure she was going to chicken out. I’m still convinced she only went through with it to prove me wrong and get the locket back after failing for two months.
Lil hasn’t gotten a piercing since, but we caught the tattoo bug long ago.
I wonder if Luca has more tattoos than the ones on his arm. And I wonder what those are for, the stars and birds that wrap around those muscles. I haven’t seen any others, but he’s always in jeans and a t-shirt when he’s with us, which leaves a lot of possible tattoo real estate. Real estate I spend too much time thinking about. I’m thinking about it right now and getting horny.
I try to stop thinking about Luca and focus on the topic at hand, which is ‘what tattoos do we want next,’ which turns into a drunken game of ‘silly tattoos we’d pick for each other.’ We’re giggling like the drunk asses we are when the closet doors bang open. Shrieking, Lil and I crash together and wrap our arms around each other.
Luca stands in the doorway, his eyes wild when they meet mine. “Fucking hell! You weren’t in the living room or the game room or the kitchen or anywhere! You texted me bullshit, and then you didn’t answer when I knocked, and the room was fucking empty, and I thought I was having a heart attack because you were just gone!” His eyes hold mine, his breathing heavy, his pulse visibly racing from across the room.
I have the urge to run to him. To hold him. To reassure him. An urge I fight with every horny fiber of my being.
“Jesus, Luca. We’re at home on a Saturday night, so you’re off duty. You don’t have to freak out,” Lil rolls her eyes and flips her hand around at him, smacking herself in the face with it. But I feel guilty as fuck. He’s never spoken that much at once or rambled the way he just did.
His breathing slows down, and he finally shifts his eyes away from mine, taking in the bottles of alcohol. The sigh he releases is heavy.
“That’s not ours. We’re just holding it for a friend,” I claim. Then I hiccup.
Lil gigglesnorts. Luca doesn’t seem amused. Boo, I thought that one might make him crack a little.
“Does Marco know you’re ‘holding it' for him?” He asks, and even does the air quotes motion with his fingers. Lil and I look at each other and fucking lose our shit. I laugh so hard tears run down my face.
“Luca. Did. Air. Quotes!” Lil gasps.
“I can… die happy… now,” I manage to get out between laughing fits.
“Alright, off the floor and into bed,” Luca says when we finally calm down.
Lil nods. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. If we sit here any longer, we’ll forget that we hit our three-drink limit, and that’s never a good thing.” Lil drags herself up off the floor and reaches down to help me up, but she loses her balance and falls on top of me.
“Ooooooofff, you goddamned Amazonian oaf, get off of me.” I’m half laughing and half dying because she knocked the wind out of me. Suddenly, Luca is there, pulling us to our feet. “Woah, you move fast!” I look up at him, my eyes wide. He huffs and leads us out of the closet. Lil pulls away, flopping onto the foot of the bed and crawling up to her pillow.
“I love this pillow.” Lil hugs her pillow to her face, sighs, and promptly starts snoring.
I snicker as Luca guides me around to my side of the bed, but I drag my feet and come to a stop after a few steps, turning toward him. When I sway on my feet, Luca places a hand on my side to steady me. His palm is warm through the material of my shirt.
“Thanks, Luca. Sorry we worried you.” I go up to my tiptoes and stretch my neck as far as possible to kiss his cheek. Even with him sort of leaning down, I still can only reach his jaw.
I don’t know what comes over me, but I reach up and trace the scar above his top lip with my fingertip, then rub my hand down his other cheek. “Scratchy.” My nails drag along the stubble.
His eyes darken, and he closes them for a heartbeat. He takes a deep breath before we start moving again. I climb into bed and curl up, facing him.
“Are you going home soon?” I ask. He tucks the blanket up around my shoulders. How does he know I need it that way?
“Why? Tired of me already?” Did he just chuckle? Nah, Drunk Ariana must be imagining things.
“Because then maybe I can stop thinking about you all the time.” My eyelids are too heavy, and I stop fighting to keep them open. “Night, Luca,” I yawn .
He probably says, “Goodnight, Ariana,” as he closes the door, but for some reason, it sounds like, “Goodnight, baby.”