Chapter 52. Brynn
brYNN
Zoe is getting my accounts? Meredith and Donovan clearly have it out for me. I’ve never even met Benji, the other account supervisor. Will I still be writing copy or demoted to fetching coffee and dry cleaning like Zoe’s been doing?
I don’t understand; both the Bradley Products and Quotagian campaigns were my ideas. I’ve got to stop this from happening. Discredit Zoe somehow. She can’t just waltz in and reap the benefits of my hard work. And Donovan can’t get rid of me for being a threat. I wish Micah were here.
Leaving work, my brain spins with ways to fix this. I step off the subway stairs and nearly collide with a skyscraper of a human who’s sashaying down Sixth Avenue with their cell pressed to their ear, wearing impossible stilettos and a bodycon skirt.
“Rikki? Wait up!”
They turn, side-eye me, and keep walking.
What is their problem? Lack of gratitude, much?
“Why are you running from me?” I shout after them.
They end their call and swivel around. “What’s your problem?” They look me up and down.
“Why are you acting like this?” I come closer. “Ignoring me?”
Their head jerks back; they squint at me from under their sparkly rose eyeshadow. “That stunt on the train, Brynn—you humiliated me.”
“I was protecting you from that creep.” I puff up my chest, leaning in. “He was going to burn you with his cigarette!”
“I could have handled that backassward prick. What you pulled, treating me like some weak-ass Barbie—”
“I was only trying to help.”
“Intentions don’t count.” Rikki juts out a hip, their upright pointer finger holding the space to speak.
“I’m inches from a smackdown on the daily cuz of my swagger and charisma, not to mention”—they gesture up and down their body—“all this. You and your do-gooder act is no help to me. If someone was harassing you on the subway and I tackled you, how would that play? Don’t act like my WWE Brown Jesus. Be my ally.”
“I-I couldn’t stand by and do nothing . . .” I stomp my foot, hands on hips.
“Holla atcho queen! ‘Hey Rikki, been a minute. What’s good?’”
“You’re right.” I deflate. “I’m the one who’s ignored you. I feel bad for not returning your texts.”
Rikki sucks their teeth. “LaGuardia twisted you.”
“It defined me. I’ve never been happier than I was there.” Until everything fell apart. “But I should have been a better friend to you.”
Their eyes roll from my face to my feet, followed by a wrinkling of the nose like I smell bad. “What’s with the costume and crusty hair?”
“I’m a mess. Whatever.” I throw up my hands.
“I’m still vexed, but . . . I legit ugly cried when I heard about your folks.” Their voice softens. “Be straight—you and your boo have something to do with it?” They arch an eyebrow, waiting.
My stomach sinks. “Cody? Why would you think that?”
“When you were still Wizards of Waverly Place fangirling Selena Gomez, you never learned enough is enough. Someone’s in your way, too bad for you.
Shut down the eyeroll, Bull Shark Brynn, you know your ways—aggressive and territorial like the predators of the sea.
What, your folks saw through your Kevin Federline? ”
“No, nothing like that!” I bite my cheek. “I decided against college to go on the road with Cody’s band. The accident happened the first night of our tour. They found him later.” I choke on my words. “But it was too late.”
Rikki’s eyes lose their edge. “I didn’t know . . .”
I look away, my head starts to throb.
After a long beat, they shove my shoulder. “Never did see 1D live.”
I shove them back harder. “Can’t let anything drop, can you?”
Seeing One Direction at the Beacon Theatre was all we talked about that year in middle school.
Between our mutual lack of funds and lack of a parent willing to chaperone, that dream got shut down right out of the gate.
But we didn’t let that derail us. We knew we’d find a way to score some tickets and convince our parents we were studying at the other person’s house that night.
Things improved when we learned about One Direction’s fan contest that called for video submissions using the band’s lyrics.
Winners received two tickets and got invited onstage to sing with Harry Styles and the crew.
We both sent a video to double our chances.
Rikki grimaces, lips crimped tight. “You bugged when I won the tickets. Like I wasn’t going to take you. You know my old man locked me in my room that night after my brother blabbed to him? And don’t act like it wasn’t you who told my brother in the first place.” They give me another stink-eye.
“I didn’t get to go either.” And my video was way better. “I saw online that when you didn’t claim the tickets, they awarded the prize to the runner-up. I’ll never forget her name: Marla from Long Island.”
“Best move out of the way when Brynnie-girl wants something. Got me fearing for poor Marla—for real.”
“I would never!” The words slip from my lips, and I see my parents’ faces behind the windshield of the Monte Carlo. Best move out of the way, Mom and Dad, Zoe. Donovan. No! I shake off the prickling feeling down my spine. “Guess I need to fix a few things about myself.”
“I never met Cody. But your folks were for real nice people.” Rikki holds a hand to their heart. “They always welcomed and accepted me even when this queen didn’t know who they were. Wish they’d adopted me.”
I cringe, remembering the stories about Rikki’s Malaysian dad and brothers. In a picture hanging in their living room, sandwiched between a quartet of muscle-shirt-and-jeans–wearing he-men, there sat Rikki in a fringe scarf, cold-shoulder top, and red capris. “How is your family?”
“No clue.” They sniff.
“I think I’ve been on a mission to redeem myself.” I wince, looking down. “The day I saw you on the subway, I helped a lost woman with dementia. But . . . I couldn’t save the three people I loved the most.” My eyes fill.
“Come on.” They wrap their arms around me. “Brynnie, there’s doing good. Then there’s ego.”
“I get it.” I nod as we pull apart.
Rikki looks deep into my eyes. “Best watch your back. I heard Cody’s family is questioning your old LaGuardia friends about what led up to the night he died.”
I swallow. “How do you know?”
“My friend Sam freelances with a stylist who knows his brother. He lives with his sister in Hell’s Kitchen. The girl stopped me one morning when I was going to work after she found out I knew you.”
Maybe she’s the one I saw Rikki speaking with on the subway before the lights went out. I shake my head. “Cody was an only child.”
Rikki blows a scarlet lock out of their eyes. “You just cooled all the tea I had for you, then.” They point their head up the street. “I’m this way.”
“I’m up for taking the long way home. Hey, maybe 1D will have a reunion tour . . .” I lengthen my stride to keep up with them.
“Heard Marla scored backstage.” Rikki makes a duck face.
I punch their upper arm.
“Ouch!” They scowl, holding the inflicted area. “You still hit nasty.”