Chapter 9
The morning of Julian and Gigi’s wedding, Danny knocks on their door.
Gigi, he knows, has already gone to the spa to get ready; Eve, as one of the bridesmaids, is there, too.
Julian had said some months ago that he wanted to get ready alone.
Something about meditating and getting in the zone.
Danny was led to believe a juice cleanse was involved.
“My god,” Danny says. He touches Julian’s forehead. “Are you well?”
“I thought maybe I’d try something. Put myself out there! Live a little! Express myself!”
Danny shuts the door behind him. “Okay, but you once told me suit jackets are strictly monogamous with the pants from whence they came, so. You can see my cause for concern.”
“No concern! We’re doing great. Hey, want some Guava Zeros? They’re knock-off Cheerios, but they’re guava flavored. And they’re zeros instead of O’s, so, you know. No copyright violation.”
“Are they good?”
“Do they sound good?”
Danny admits they do not and asks if that was why Julian summoned him—to try the Guava Zeros. Julian admits it was not and says he’s feeling a teensy bit out of sorts, if Danny can believe that.
“No way,” Danny says.
Julian sits on the floor with his Guava Zeros cradled in his lap. “Gigi and I dropped,” he says.
“What?”
“We dropped.”
“Dropped what?”
“In Pattern,” Julian says. “We were doing this whole piece for socials yesterday at welcome drinks about being one hundred? And then we had sex last night—”
“Is that relevant to the story?”
“—and I woke up being like, hell yeah, I’m awesome, I get to marry Gigi fucking Badeaux, and we’re perfect, and how many people get to know that their marriage is definitely going to work out? And then I logged onto the app and it said we were a ninety-eight.”
“Okay,” Danny says. “An A-plus.”
“A ninety-eight,” Julian repeats. “And we’ve always been a hundred.
But the algorithm is getting more data now.
It’s getting smarter. So maybe we’re going to keep going down.
Maybe we’re actually a seventy, and the app has been totally wrong this whole time.
Maybe when we’re old, we’re going to be sitting silently on opposite ends of the dining room table listening to our forks shriek against our plates because we’re so completely indifferent to each other that we may as well be alone. ”
“That feels specific.”
Julian lies back on the carpet. “I love you so much,” he says, “but can you get my sister?”
Ten minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. When Danny opens it, Eve stands on the other side. Her hair is tied up in a bun but her makeup is overwhelmingly done. She’s still wearing shorts and a large button-up.
“You look great,” Danny says.
“I am meant to look great in photos, not from six inches away, but thank you.”
“Is that my shirt?”
“Yes, but it’s been in my custody for some months now.”
Julian makes a tragic sound from behind Danny.
“How’s the patient?” Eve says.
Danny moves so Eve can enter, then he shuts the door behind them. Eve stands over Julian with her hands on her hips.
“Is this of the body or of the soul?” Eve asks.
“Either way,” Danny says, “we may need to amputate.”
“Can you two stop flirting and make me feel better?” Julian says.
Eve sits cross-legged beside Julian and takes his Guava Zeros. She slowly munches her way through a handful of them as Julian regales her: the ninety-eight, the dread, the shrieking forks.
“I said that seemed very specific,” Danny adds.
“Well, yes,” Eve says. “You’ve met our parents.”
“But your parents are together,” Danny says.
“They’re together, but they’re not happy,” Eve says.
“How unhappy can they be if they stayed together all this time?”
“They would’ve been better off getting a divorce a long time ago,” Eve says.
Danny takes a half step back without meaning to.
He watches Eve notice. When she does, a mask falls across her face.
It’s too fast for Danny to stop. Eve has just suggested the undoing of Danny’s family was a good thing.
Danny has reacted with shock to a truth Eve holds deeply ingrained within her.
She looks away from him. His palm touches his phone through his pocket, itchy with the need to ask Bug for a solution.
Eve lies back on the ground next to Julian. Danny leans awkwardly against the wall.
“Jules,” Eve says.
“Eevee.”
“In the family lore,” she says, “what do we know about me?”
“You’re the best one but you threw away your potential?”
“No, the other thing.”
“You’re mean and don’t get along with anyone,” Julian says.
“Exactly. And yet. What do I think of Gigi?”
“You think she’s cool.”
“And?” Eve says.
“That she has nice hair.”
“And?”
“That she’s the shit.”
“Precisely,” Eve says. “I think she’s the shit, and I think you’re the shit, and I think the two of you are going to have a happy life.”
Julian turns his head to look at her. His eyes are large and vulnerable. Danny has perhaps never wished for a sibling as concretely as he does in this moment.
“How can I be sure?” Julian says.
“Well,” Eve says, “you can’t.”
“That’s actually not the feedback I need right now.”
“You just can’t,” Eve says. “Even if you and Gigi were totally perfect, one of you could still get hit by a bus. A meteor could come kill us all. Maybe you’ll just grow apart. It happens.”
Julian presses his hands against his face. “You were doing so well.”
“You’re still a ninety-eight,” Danny says. “And hey, maybe that’s an error. Maybe you’re actually a hundred.”
Julian lowers his hands. “I know you’re placating me, but can you say that two dozen more times?”
“You’re a hundred,” Danny says. “You two are perfect together.”
“I mean,” Eve says, “no one is perfect together.”
“What if,” Danny says, “we tabled that thought for a moment?”
“I’m just saying! It’s not certain, but you’re choosing to take a leap anyway! That’s beautiful.”
“I hate leaping,” Julian says.
“No leaping,” Danny says. “Just stepping. Into a great decision with no negative repercussions.”
“Danny—” Eve says.
“Eve,” Julian says, “we love you but maybe save your ‘uncertainty is beautiful’ thesis for people who have not devoted the past year of their lives to alleviating the discomfort of uncertainty.”
They all laugh. It feels like releasing a pressure valve to acknowledge this omnipresent thing. Danny looks at Eve like, We’re okay? And Eve nods back like, We’re okay.
Julian stands and brushes Guava Zero debris from his chest. He looks down at himself. “Good god,” he says. “These pants don’t match this jacket.”
“You have thirty minutes before the first look,” Eve says. “Please change. Or we will literally never hear the end of it.”
Julian ruffles her hair, which makes her bun fall to one side. She squints at him, and he looks pleased.
In the hallway, Danny says, “What did you mean about family lore?”
“Oh,” Eve says. “It’s just a joke we have.”
“That you’re mean?”
“Just, you know how with families or friend groups, people sometimes get typecast in a certain role? Little brother, innocent nerd, mean girl. Et cetera.”
“But you’re not mean.”
She laughs like it’s perfunctory. Pauses. Laughs again like she means it. “It’s so weird,” she says. “How much of love is just finding the person who sees the version of yourself you want to be.”
“But,” Danny says. “You’re not mean. Why would your family say that?”
She kisses his cheek. “See? Exactly.”