Chapter 19
Cece
The fear hits me before daylight does, pulling me from my slumber. I lie in the dark of my hotel room, my long list of failures marching through my head.
Money.
Men.
Mice.
Ada and I slipped into a safe little bubble on the drive down.
It felt so good to leave the city behind.
I’d solved nothing, but I didn’t have to.
We had clear skies, a massive bag of sour worms, and Ada’s high school nostalgia playlist. Every so often, we’d belt out the words to ‘Parlez-Vous Franci’s or ‘Dog Days Are Over,’ then we’d drift back into silence, letting the music speak for us.
At one point, I asked about Jake, but Ada kept her eyes on the traffic jammed up in front of us. “I can’t, Cee. It sucks too much, and my brain’s full of other stuff.”
I didn’t push. She probably meant her revenge plans.
Now that she and Jake are over I assumed they were fully back on.
But with The Fratellis blaring and the last of the day’s sunshine streaming through the windows, I didn’t have the strength to wade into that mess and shatter the tiny bubble of protection we’d formed around us.
Only now alone in a bed that isn’t mine, the bubble has well and truly burst. The mice aren’t the real problem—they’re just a scuttling symptom.
My real issue is the two-story-tall building, full of booze, and losing money faster than I can plug the leaks.
I’ve got enough in my savings to survive the shutdown, but what then?
Who wants to drink in a bar with a mouse problem?
I unplug my phone from my charger and type in Nursing jobs Auckland city.
Nothing in pediatrics pops up. On a whim, I check the Pukekohe area box.
My heart pulses as a job appears. They need a full-time primary care nurse at Pukekohe Family Health, and the starting salary is six figures.
I prefer pediatrics to perinatal care, but I’m qualified for it, and right now I’m having a hard time thinking about anything besides what I could do with a wage that high.
And it’s in Pukekohe. Will and I would be living in the same town again...
A hot blush spreads over my face, but I get to enjoy its warmth, before a fresh problem rises to the top of my mind. A tall, dark, handsome, pushy problem. A problem that hasn’t called or texted since he stormed out of Afterglow.
There’s a muffled bang to my right, followed by a low curse. Ada’s awake.
Grateful for the interruption, I click the button to have the nursing job application emailed to me.
Sliding out of the unfamiliar sheets, I pull on the complimentary robe and step onto our shared balcony.
Sure enough, Ada’s leaning against the guardrail, vaping, her dark hair tucked into a pink silk bonnet.
“So it begins,” she greets me, white vapor curling around her face—a soldier staring down an impossible battle.
I step beside Ada, pressing my bathrobe-clad shoulder against hers. She wordlessly hands me her ice-mint ElfBar, and we stand side by side in the milky dawn, vaping and watching the houses blink awake.
We’re staying at Nikau Palms, one of the two decent hotels in town.
It’s a bit dated, but I’ve always loved it.
The restaurant downstairs is where I had all my teenage birthday dinners.
Our whole family on our best behaviour under the chandeliers and white linen napkins.
It was a far cry from family dinners at home—Mum and Dad distracted with work as Tristan stomped through the kitchen in his muddy boots, yelling about someone playing like they had feet for hands.
Nikau Palms always reminded me of a castle, being the tallest building in town.
Four floors, with thick Grecian columns out the front.
We’re on the highest level, and as I squint across the horizon, I can just make out Silverlight Estate, the newer, flashier hotel at the edge of Pukekohe.
It’s all glass, white walls and chrome. The kind of place that feels cold, no matter how expensive it is.
The reunion party is happening in its ballroom, and most of our out-of-town ex-classmates are staying there.
Ada points to the far east. “Look, it’s Thrasher’s tin-pot empire.”
I follow her finger to the gates of Thompson Farms. Even in semi-darkness, I can see the tall fences topped with curls of spiked wire.
“Why would a kiwifruit farm need a boundary line like that?” Ada says, reading my mind.
A shiver slides down my spine. It’s good to be home, but the town I know better than the back of my hand feels almost secretive in the dawn light. Like it’s holding its breath as it quietly gathers its resources to do…
What exactly?
When we’ve sucked in enough nicotine juice to turn our blood mint-flavoured, Ada tucks her vape into her pocket. “Should we prep for the initial showdown?”
We’ve both planned to see our parents this morning before the first centenary events, but the look in her eyes says she’s thinking about something more sinister than having coffee with her mum and dad.
I think of her notebook full of handwritten plans and shove aside the urge to ask exactly what she means.
Right now, I need to focus on what I can control. Like my bikini line.
“Sure,” I say. “Do you want to shower first? I’m gonna be a while.”
“You go, I’ll order breakfast. What would you like?”
“I’m fine,” I lie. I can’t afford room service. “I’ll eat at Mum and Dad’s.”
Ada narrows her eyes. “No dice. I’m paying, and you’re having a massive breakfast. You need to line your stomach.”
I grin at her. In her robe and bonnet, I see the sassy little nonna she’ll be one day.
I picture the two of us chattering away in my kitchen, Ada forcing me to eat while I force her to lay off whatever nicotine product they’ve invented fifty years from now.
The image fades along with my smile as I realise it’s another dream that might never come to pass.
I’m more than likely going back to nursing, and whatever Ada’s plans are, I can’t imagine they’ll keep her in Auckland once I’m—
“Cece!” Ada half-shouts. “Earth to hot slut?”
I jump. “Sorry, vape spins.”
“Hmm,” she says, eyeing me suspiciously. “You need to consume huge quantities of carbs.”
Ada flops onto my uncomfortable couch and scans the room service menu while I slip into the bedroom, rummaging for disposable wax strips and whatever courage I can find. Mum and Dad are going to want to know all about Afterglow, and I’ve never been a good liar.
“Not much of a bar owner either,” I mutter, warming a pink strip between my palms. “God, please, let them be nice.”
The food’s arrived by the time I’m finished violating my feminism and pain threshold in equal measure.
I find Ada at the table, sitting in front of a plate but not eating.
She’s dragging a fork through her omelette, her eyes sad and far away.
The sadness has been in permanent residence since she finished things with Jake.
My chest aches. I hope to God he’s not coming this weekend.
Ada can put on a brave face better than anyone, but she’s still bleeding inside. Another thing I can’t fix.
She looks up and I yank on a smile. “My bikini line is officially wrangled.”
“Cool. I got you scrambled eggs with bacon and mushrooms.” She gestures with her fork to a second plate. “Eat all the toast, Edward Cider-Hands.”
I groan at the memory of rolling down Hampstead Heath with two bottles of Cornish Scrumpy taped to my hands, twisting my ankle. “Hey, an alcohol tolerance this low is economical. I’m cheap to take out.”
“Until you end up in A&E.”
“True,” I say, sitting and pulling my breakfast toward me. “How are you feeling about seeing your parents?”
Ada scrunches up her face. “It’ll probably be horrible, but fuck it.”
“Well, hopefully it’s not too bad. Anyway, you don’t have to stay long. The welcome cocktail thing starts at five, and we need to be back here by three at the latest to do makeup and drink buckets of wine.”
She looks slightly mollified. “Excited to see Fuckface?”
My stomach flips. “Nervous and excited. And please promise you won’t call Will Fuckface to his—”
“Fuckface?”
I point my fork at her. “Yes. Please be nice. Besides, Will might not even come to this bit. The food’s catered by the kids doing hospo classes, and the music students are putting on a showcase, and I doubt any of them is a young Ada Renaldo.”
“Those poor nerdy bastards. School bands are the worst. Everyone talking over your performances, while the horn section sounds like farts.”
I laugh. “Who knows? Maybe they’ll recognise you and put on the show of a lifetime?”
“Yeah, I’m a real inspiration to the kids. Drink hard, fail harder.”
I frown. If the world’s most famous flautist is worried about coming off as a failure at this reunion, what the hell does that mean for me? “What are you talking about? You’ve done amazing things! Everyone’s gonna be so excited to see you.”
Ada stares at me, her face unreadable. “Everyone?”
“Well, not Jenny. But we’ll deal with her when we get there.”
Ada sets her jaw. “Well, after I shatter the dreams of young hopefuls tonight, what’s next?”
I mentally scan the reunion itinerary. “Tours and boring shit tomorrow, then the formal dinner and dance at the Silverlight Estate ballroom. On Sunday, there’s a garden party at some alumni mansion with a kapa haka performance to close things out.”
“Okay. Here.” Ada pushes her plate toward me. “I’m not hungry.”
“Hypocrite!”
She smirks. “I don’t chuck, baby. Not since the Pulse-ident.”
I wince at the memory of that lime-flavoured electric booze. “I’m so glad those are illegal now.”
“You and the New Zealand Ministry of Health.” Ada pulls her vape from her pocket. “I’ll go shower. What time do you want to leave to see your folks?”
I check my watch. It’s just after eight, but I know my parents have already been up for hours. “Is nine okay? When are you seeing yours?”