Chapter 46. Brynn
brYNN
“Brynn?”
I turn back and stop just short of slamming into her.
Tess aims one of her shopping bags into my leg.
“Ouch.”
She laughs, swinging her honey-brown, stick-straight hair—once naturally curly and jet black—behind her shoulders. Achieving her sleek new style looks like a lot of effort in this humidity.
Something else has changed since the last time I saw her walking across the stage at graduation: She looks collegiate in her cute rugby dress and white Adidas, while I hardly recognize myself in my mother’s ill-fitting hand-me-downs.
“Tess. Hey.”
“I didn’t realize that was you at first, all dressed up with your hair down and not in one of your messy buns.” She gives me her best Miss America smile, in case I’d forgotten it.
“I have an internship in midtown.” I shrug. “Your hair’s gotten long. I like it blown out.”
“And all mine.” She shakes it behind her shoulders. “I’m leaving Saturday for Stanford. Wanda and Mike want to ship my stuff before I get there. You wouldn’t believe how much I’m bringing. And get this—they insist on flying with me.” Her face drops. “Sorry . . . I didn’t mean . . . I’m an idiot.”
“I’m happy for you.” I keep my voice even. “I’m sure they’re busting with pride.”
“How are you?” She leans her head to the side. “When we spoke at graduation—”
“We did? Was I nice?” I cringe.
She laughs. “Of course not. I expected nothing different. You acted mad at me, Lucy, the whole world.”
“I know, I’m—”
“Hey, do you want to grab a latte?”
No, not really. “Sure.” I keep up with her long legs down MacDougal Street like I’ve done countless times before, coming here after school with her and Lucy.
She stops at Caffé Dante and tugs open the door.
The purple house across the street floods my head with bitter-sweet memories.
I glance up at the darkened windows, letting the twinge in my chest settle, forgetting for a split second that I’m following someone.
If Micah were in town, I’d skip across the street for one of his amazing hugs.
I drag my gaze away and walk behind Tess through the door.
The café’s familiar creamy brick walls, checkered floors, and strong espresso aroma rouse me.
In middle school, this place was an iconic neighborhood hangout, gritty yet historic, with its round white tables and the celebrity photos and faded murals of Italy on its walls.
The new owners gussied it up, making it more upscale. I miss the former place.
Tess chooses a table across from the bar. She slides into the upholstered booth against the wall and spreads her bags well into the next empty seat.
“How are Wanda and Mike?” Her Ghanaian father and African American mother own an Afro-fusion restaurant on Carmine Street. Lucy and I used to eat there for free all the time. Tess is an only child like me. Having to share our parents with a more needy sibling—the family business—bonded us early on.
“The restaurant appears to be booming, they’re adding two more locations. So, they’re good.” She sends me a knowing look.
A server comes up behind me. “What can I get you to start with?”
The pale girl lifts her blue-green eyes to us—and, without warning, fumbles the pen and pad in her hands.
I flash back to her doing the same thing with a stack of boxes. “Do you work for a delivery service?”
She flinches and tucks a strand of caramel-blond hair behind her ear. “Yeah, part time.” Her wide-set eyes pull into the center of her face like I’m going to charge toward her again.
I almost feel bad.
“What will you have?” She doesn’t look up from her pad.
“A latte with almond milk.”
“Make that two.” Tess smiles.
I watch the girl walk away.
Her head turns back at the last second before she disappears.
Tess poses her chin on her hands, batting her eyes.
“Wanda and Mike put together a going-away party for me this Friday. I know it’s been, like, forever, but I’d love for you to be there.
” Oh, here she goes. This girl employs more mannerisms than anyone I’ve ever met—like her George Clooney head tilt right now. She can never just chill.
“I don’t know.” I sigh. It would be nice to see everyone, but I’m not up for the barrage of concerned faces ready to gossip once I leave. I mirror her head tilt. “Been a while since we’ve all hung out. I wouldn’t want your last night to be awkward.”
“It would mean a lot to me and Lucy . . . and my parents . . . if you came. Like old times.”
I force a smile, crossing my arms over the sudden, gassy pain in my belly. I squirm in my seat, wishing I could lie down.
She stretches across the table, opening her palms to me. “Lucy and I really missed you. End of junior year, you really changed.”
I rest my hands in hers. “I let Cody come between us . . .”
Someone gasps behind me.
I turn at the same time our lattes crash to the floor.
Our server rushes back into the kitchen.
“Okay, strange.” Tess pouts her lips. “Poor girl.”
An Italian-looking guy appears with a mop and broom. His dark gaze locks on mine.
Fine hairs rise on my arms.
“Earth to Brynn.” She follows my eyes.
“He looks familiar too. Haven’t we seen him—”
“Perform?” She nods. “He was one of the leads in the show we saw at that other performing arts high school that shall not be named. It was one of the few nights I managed to pull you away from Cody.” She snickers. “Teddy Jenkins. Those yummy, broad shoulders. Handsome.”
It all comes rushing back. “I remember him. He was good.”
“They both were. Butterfingers went there too. She played that indie tune on the guitar. Maybe she’s working here to pay for a vocal coach.”
“Like you used to do.”
“Long time ago. Now I can shop.” She grins.
“Must be nice to get a full ride.” I can’t keep the edge out of my voice.
“Yeah, almost didn’t happen.” Her eyes tighten.
I gulp and look away. No point going there.
She opens her mouth, looking ready to pounce.
I hold my breath. Coming here with her was a mistake.
Teddy places two napkins in front of us and then sets our steaming cups on the table, staring at me. He knows we were talking about him.
“Wouldya like to see our menu?” The short black curls framing his face move when he speaks.
I shake my head and wait until he leaves. “Um, who else is going to your party?”
“Like everyone,” she cuts me off. “First, let’s discuss how you let a guy come between our friendship.”
I exhale. Thank god she dropped that other thing. Not my finest moment.
“You fell hard. Who wouldn’t? Cody was easy on the eyes—and that voice. Plus, he was obsessed with you. But that doesn’t explain how you acted. Lucy and I would see you at school, you’d walk the other way. Always ready with another excuse not to hang out. Then the makeup—his idea, right?”
I swallow back the sudden tightness in my throat.
“I knew it! Never saw you as a girlie girl. You became his arm candy.”
“Not true.” I bunch up my napkin and throw it at her.
“I cried when Lucy told me your plan to leave school and go on tour, thought I’d never see you again. God, then the accident.” She holds the sides of her face like her head weighs a ton.
“Wait, did the Elmsford police reach out to you about that night?”
“No, why?” She licks some foam from her latte, her eyes focused on her cup.
I squint, watching her. “Just . . . wondering.”
“Lucy and I organized a candlelight vigil for Cody, hoping you’d show.”
“I didn’t know. So sweet of you guys.” Hate him in life, cry for him in death. Always creating drama when it serves you, right, Tess?
“And oh. My. God. Katia and Basilio! How? Why? They were the best.”
“Everyone loved my parents. All anyone ever talked about.” I clench my jaw.
“Remember when they got invited to judge LaGuardia’s talent night and they broke out into that amazing duet in front of everyone? Gave me chills.”
“Yep. Another night to showcase themselves.” I let out a strangled laugh.
Her face drops, her eyes stare off.
I take a hasty sip of my latte.
She wrinkles her nose. “Did Cody’s family have a funeral? I kept waiting for someone from school to post something.”
I blank at her question. “Um . . . I was so out of my head, I don’t know. I never met them.”
“You’d think they’d want to meet you.” She looks away. “Let you spread his remains somewhere alongside them or something. You were his girlfriend.”
I nod. “I should try to contact them. Those first few months after, like I said, I was just . . .”
Out of my peripheral, I see that Teddy guy watching us.
She grabs my hands again. “Oh my God, Brynn. When Lucy saw that your parents’ place in Brooklyn sold, we texted you and each got the same no longer in service message. We thought you left the country.”
“I wanted to disappear.” Still do. I sniffle.
Her lower lip wobbles as she embraces my hands, her watery eyes on the brink of flowing.
My chest squeezes. “You still care”—I look down at the table—“even after what I did?”
The café becomes quiet. Several seconds pass.
She must not have heard me.
But then her beautiful face rearranges itself into something ugly and unrecognizable.
An iciness runs through me. I close my eyes. Why did I even go there?
She rests her chin on her hands, her pupils like slits. “I couldn’t understand why Stanford stopped responding to my emails . . . or all those phone calls I made . . . but you knew why.”
I rub my face, squeezing my forehead.
“What was it? Jealousy?”
My throat constricts. “No . . . I-I . . . You kept forgetting your lines . . . then the numbness in your hands, and your foot kept turning in when you walked . . . I was worried for you.”
“You planted that seed in your buddy Mr. Prescott’s head . . . telling him I had developed some neurological disorder, knowing he’d written my recommendation and was a Stanford alumni . . . You wanted them to rescind my acceptance into their theater school.”
“I swear, I only confided in him because I was afraid of the stress the senior musical was having on you. I never imagined he’d contact someone there.”
Her lips disappear. “You knew how scared I was . . . I cried to you . . . And then you tried to take all my dreams from me.”
“No! Never!” I search frantically for the right words. “Your doctor figured out what it was, right? You’re fine now. I never meant for it to get out like that.”
“You didn’t stop it, either.”
True, but . . . I did it to score points with Mr. Prescott so he’d help me.
With Cody and my parents gone, he was my last hope.
LaGuardia was a dog-eat-dog world. My last-ditch attempts at getting a college scholarship somewhere had dried up.
Mr. Prescott appreciated that I was saving him from the embarrassment.
They’d never take one of his recommendations again if I hadn’t said something.
Besides, who knew you only had some temporary inflammatory thing going on from an infection? I’m not a doctor.
She takes in a long, cleansing breath, emphasized by lifting and lowering her palms like a yogi. “Let’s talk about something else.” Her eyes dart over to Teddy and Butterfingers, talking behind the counter. “So . . . when do you leave for school?”
“Not happening.”
“What? That’s—”
“Like I told you, I’m interning this summer. Hoping they keep me on full time. I need to make some serious cash. I’ve been staying at my parents’ place on Bleecker that they used to rent out. Praying to not get evicted.”
“You mean you’ve been living around the corner from my mom and dad’s restaurant this whole time? Wait, what’s the number?”
“Uh, 193 Bleecker.” I swivel my cup around on my saucer. “I thought about reaching out. But I didn’t know what to say or if you still wanted to talk to me. Maybe when you come back on winter break or something, we can spend some time together . . . like old times.”
“Will you come to my party Friday?” Her brows lift.
My mind slips back to being fourteen again.
We met that first day of auditions. Miss Drama Queen knew she’d nailed her acting tryout and pushed me to ace my vocal audition so we could be best friends.
Her confidence in me without ever having heard me sing propelled me to give it everything I had.
We were so naive. And yet it all happened like she said it would.
She’s the real reason I got into LaGuardia.
I force a feeble smile. “Of course I’ll be there.”
“Good! Don’t let me down or I won’t be able to forgive you . . . this time.” She smiles, exposing her teeth like a she-wolf. “Anyhoo, I need your advice on this pair of boots I want to buy . . .”
I roll my eyes, smiling for real this time. “One store, Tess, not eight. Got it?”
“Lucy’s going to be so excited to see you!” She throws back the last of her latte.
I swirl the milky liquid at the bottom of my cup, now cold. I don’t need to see Lucy. Or Tess. I haven’t thought about either of them in forever. They can’t do anything for me now.
Tess clears her throat, watching me.
I grin, grinding my teeth.
“One store. Got it. Brynnie, Lucy, and Tess—BLT, back together again. We’ve missed our bacon, even if she is vegan.” She winks.
“I’ve missed us too.”
No way I’m going to her party.