3. Juliette
JULIETTE
TWENTY-ONE YEARS OLD
M y best friend since childhood and roommate for the past four years, Felicity, demands things; she doesn’t ask. So, when she says, “You’re coming out tonight,” for the thirteenth time in the past two hours, I know arguing with her is a lost cause.
I’ve tried that method and failed many times.
Lately, she’s been up in arms about me taking myself too seriously. She goes on and on about seizing the moment while I have a few days left to do so. Before college is over and I’m on my way back home to “Mommy and Daddy.”
Her words. Not mine.
Her family runs the Second Circle Market chain of grocery stores, so while she knows what it’s like to grow up with money, she’s not one of the founding families.
She’s close enough to understand the world I live in, but distant enough to resent it. Plus, she can’t stand how tightly my parents hold the reins to my life, and she hates even more how easily I let them.
I guess it’s hard to understand the level of passivity someone develops when it’s all they’ve ever been taught.
“Did you hear me?” She smacks the back of my notebook, and my pen jerks mid-word, turning my “s” into a squiggle.
Sighing, I close the story I’m working on and glance up.
She looks beautiful, like she always does, her curvy silhouette highlighted by the sliding glass door that opens to the California ocean behind us, her long, straight blond hair and suntanned skin shining in the afternoon light.
“What?” I ask.
She snaps her fingers in my face. “I knew you weren’t listening to me, jerk.”
I bat her hand away. “I heard you, I was just hoping you’d let me hermit in peace.”
Felicity laughs. “If I did that, you’d end up a cranky old woman with twenty cats and no friends.”
“I’m allergic to cats.”
“Oh, yeah.” She pauses, frowning. “But I love cats.”
“Guess that means we can’t be friends anymore,” I deadpan.
“Please, I forced my way into your life when we were four and haven’t left since. I’m basically a permanent limb now,” she replies.
“More like a tumor,” I mutter.
“Semantics.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder. “Which is why it’s extra insulting you think you’ll get out of coming with me tonight. Please, Jules. One night of fun. I’m dying here.”
The guilt hits hard, and I let the fight drain out of me. “Fine. I’ll go.”
“Yes!” She fist-pumps, her thin blond eyebrows arching high. “Will you actually enjoy it, or will you be a moody bitch all night?”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair, the dark strands tickling the backs of my arms. “I learned a long time ago that when it comes to you, resistance is futile.”
She gasps. “Was that a Trek reference?”
Felicity’s been obsessed with Star Trek for years, after she watched a marathon with my brother Paxton one weekend at my house. I’ll never forget it because it was the only time they’ve ever gotten along.
“I dabble.”
She splays a hand across her chest. “I have truly never been prouder.”
Stretching my arms above my head, I lean back until a satisfying crack punctures the air. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“It’s this?—”
“Wait,” I interrupt, throwing my palm in the air. “More importantly, who are we going with?”
Don’t say Keagan. Don’t say Keagan. Don’t say ? —
“Keagan and some of his friends.”
Felicity clearly sees my look of disgust. She doesn’t say anything though, because she’s suddenly distracted by her phone, fingers flying way too fast to be a casual response.
“Who are you texting?” I narrow my eyes.
“No one.”
“If you’re telling Keagan about me going already, I’m never leaving this couch again.”
“Dramatic much?”
“Felicity.”
She sighs, tossing her phone to the side. “It’s not Keagan. It’s Alex.”
My mouth drops open. “Alex as in my brother Alex?”
She shrugs, trying to hide her smile.
“Oh my God.”
“You act like I haven’t known him my whole life.” Felicity laughs. “He’s funny. And sweet. And he’s got that little crinkle when he smiles…”
I stick a finger down my throat and fake gag and that only makes her laugh harder.
“Kidding,” she finally tells me.
Throwing a couch pillow at her, I whine, “I hate you.”
She shakes her head, still grinning. “Come on, girl. You know I don’t have a crush on Alex, he’s like my brother.”
“Yeah, well,” I mutter. “Maybe. But just be careful with him, okay?”
Her smile falters. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I give her a pointed look. “You know he’s half in love with you.”
She straightens. “He is not . And it doesn’t matter anyway, I’m with Keagan.”
My face scrunches up at Keagan’s name.
“You’ve gotta get over whatever your deal is with him,” she says.
“Do I, though?”
She flops down next to me on the couch and holds up her palms so they’re facing each other.
“He’s my boyfriend,” she says, wiggling one hand. “You’re my best friend,” she adds, wiggling the other. Then she smashes them together. “Coexist.”
“I’ve had plenty of boyfriends you didn’t like.”
“That’s different.”
“How so?”
“You never gave a shit about any of them, so why would I?”
She’s not wrong. Not really, anyway. Ever since Preston dumped me over a text and left me gutted for a month straight, I stopped letting anyone get close enough to matter.
“Fair. That still doesn’t mean Keagan’s any less of a douchebag.”
“Maybe,” she agrees. “But he’s my douchebag.”
My mouth drops open again, but when Felicity’s eyes turn into slits, I snap it shut.
“What?” I ask innocently.
“Your thoughts are loud,” she complains.
“Okay, fine. God, you act like the world’s gonna end if I’m a little grumpy.”
She beams and leans forward, throwing her arms around my neck, her strawberry shampoo flooding my senses.
“It’ll be fun tonight,” she says against my shoulder. “You’ll see.”
“If you say so.”
She pulls back and grabs my hand, a flicker of sincerity breaking through her sass. “When will you admit I always know what’s best for you?”
“That’s incredibly debatable.” I laugh. “I can list off several times you’ve put me in bad spots.”
She narrows her gaze. “I told you to forget about those.”
“What do you want me to do, give myself a lobotomy?” I grin, tapping my temple. “My mind’s a steel trap, baby.”
She groans, sitting back. “Whatever. The point is, you’ve only got a few days left here in the land of the free, and you’ve never once really let go of who you think you should be to just…”
“Just what?”
“You know…let loose. Just be Juliette.”
I nod, but I swallow the words that rise in my throat.
I’m not sure I even know who Juliette is.
That little girl who used to sneak around corners with a notebook and a nose for gossip disappeared somewhere along the way.
After years of saying yes to my parents and smiling pretty for the papers, I became exactly what they wanted. Just another cookie-cutter cutout.
It’s only in college that I’ve started to find that little girl again.
Doesn’t matter. Graduation is next week, and after that, it’s back home to Rosebrook Falls. Back to being a polished, palatable version of myself.
“If you want my advice,” Felicity cuts into my thoughts. “You should find someone to fuck before your archaic family rolls into town for graduation and ruins your chances.”
I guffaw.
She frowns. “Why are you laughing? You could use a good dicking.”
“Ew, don’t say it like that.”
She cackles. “What? I’m just saying. Ever since Keagan started giving me his, I’ve been in a much better mood.”
My features screw up.
“Don’t make that face,” she says.
I wipe the look. “What face?”
“The one where it’s clear you think Keagan’s Satan. You wouldn’t hate him if you saw how big his dick is, that’s for sure.”
“A big dick doesn’t mean they know how to use it. And I still wouldn’t be the one sleeping with him, so I doubt that.”
“I’d let him fuck you.” She eyes me. “I’d probably fuck you, too.”
“You make it sound so romantic.”
“Fucking is romantic.”
“Is it?” I cock my head.
“It is when I do it.” She grins.
“Tempting,” I say flatly. “But I’ll pass.”
She watches me and then nods like she’s made peace with my decision. “Smart move, honestly. I do this thing with my tongue that would ruin you, and then obviously you’d fall in love.”
“ Obviously ,” I echo.
“I’d try to let you down easy,” she goes on, undeterred. “But you’d spiral, things would get weird, we’d stop hanging out, and you’d write some tragic novel and dedicate it to me with a passive-aggressive note. So really, it’s better this way. I value our friendship too much.”
I blink. “That was…a lot.”
She shrugs. “Just trying to protect what we have.”
“Right.” I nod. “Wouldn’t want me to make things weird.”
She sighs, falling back against the couch. “Exactly.”
“ Anyway ,” I say, moving my notebook from my lap to the coffee table. “You said it’s an art show? Who’s the artist?”
Felicity must be able to sense the unease in my voice, because she doesn’t miss a beat before saying, “Don’t worry, I know better than to take you somewhere that could tarnish that fancy reputation of yours.”
“I wasn’t worried about that.”
That’s a lie.
Personally, I don’t care, but my family does, and even this far away from Connecticut, if I did something too scandalous, it would inevitably show up in The Rosebrook Rag back home.
My family would have to contact their lawyer Frederick to bury the story, and I’d be cold shouldered until the next big scandal hit the news.
Felicity gives me a look, and I concede, “Okay, maybe I was, but you know how it is.”
She pouts. “Being you is exhausting.”
Tell me about it.
“It’s actually for some street artist.”
“Oh, really?” I don’t particularly care about art, but it sounds interesting enough. “What’s his name?”
She grins and wiggles her eyebrows. “That’s the best part. Nobody knows.”
“What do you mean, ‘nobody knows’? Somebody has to know if he’s got an art show.”
Her lips purse. “Good point. But in general, he’s anonymous. Tags everything with RMO and that’s it. It’s part of his mystique or whatever.”
“How do you know it’s a he ?”
“I don’t, I guess.” She frowns like the thought has genuinely never crossed her mind. “But that doesn’t matter.”
“What does matter, then?”
“What matters is you getting out, breathing some fresh air, you know, living a little.”
“I already said I’ll go, what else do you want from me?”
Felicity beams. “Is it weird if I offer the threesome again?”
I throw another couch pillow at her, and she catches it, falling onto the floor and laughing.
Smiling, I pick my notebook back up and flip it open, but the words don’t flow the way they normally do. Instead, a hit of melancholy spreads through my chest when I realize I only have a few days left of this.
Felicity is coming back home, too, so we’ll still be around each other, but…it will be different.
Silently, I promise myself that I really will try to have fun tonight.