Chapter 26
Vince
Birdie, what the hell happened?
I’m sorry. I should have talked to you in person before I left. I know I messed things up for you and Bronson and you both probably hate me now.
I just don’t understand what happened?
I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it.
Was it Knox?
Birdie??
Adelaide
B, are you ok?
Yeah.
No.
Fuck, I don’t know.
I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye.
Girl, it’s ok. Mel and I are just worried about you. Can we video call soon?
Of course. Miss you both. xo
xo
Mel
Sam told me what happened. I am so sorry.
Thx, I don’t even really know what to do now. I’m staying at Sam’s until I find a place.
I also want to apologize for not telling you about…
well, being gay. I haven’t really come out to anyone.
I think my mom suspects and honestly, I think it’s why she pushed for me to be a part of this stupid competition.
Probably hoping that a prince is just what I need to suddenly be straight.
I really wanted to tell you and Adelaide.
I didn’t want you to find out the way you did.
Mel, you don’t owe me any explanation. That is your story to tell when you’re ready. I just want you to be happy and if you and Sam make each other happy, then I’m happy for both of you.
I’m going to talk to Oliver tomorrow. I don’t think I want to officially pull out of the competition, I think it would bring too much attention, but he deserves to know at least some of the truth.
If that’s what you feel comfortable with, then I fully support you. I’m irritated as fuck with Oliver right now, but it doesn’t change that he’s a good guy at heart. I’m sure he’ll understand.
I hope you’re right.
Here for you, always.
This competition may be stupid, but I’m glad it brought us together.
HA! Couldn’t agree more.
Oliver
Birdie, I’m so sorry for how things ended.
B, please talk to me.
Unknown Number
Hi Birdie, it’s Ginny. I got your number from Cora.
I just wanted to say I’m sorry to you. Renata told Gemma and me that she was going to sneak you banana at the baking thing but I didn’t know you were, like, *that* allergic.
Wait, Renata gave me bananas on purpose??
Yeah, and she was behind all the mean articles about you and stuff. I told her I don’t want to be friends with her anymore and stopped talking to her after Oliver kicked her out of the competition. Sorry that I didn’t do anything to stop her sooner.
TBH, I don’t really know how to respond to that. I guess I hope you’ve learned something from this. Thanks for the apology.
I set the phone down and leaned my head back against Sam’s couch.
Jesus, some people’s kids. I had known Renata was vile, but even I hadn’t seen that one coming. Never seeing that woman again was the one good thing about leaving Wexstone.
Thinking of Wexstone—of what I had left behind—hurt too much, so I turned my attention back to the TV where Queer Eye was playing. Since returning to New York four days prior, I had been sleeping on Sam’s couch and spending my days in a blurry cycle of Netflix, junk food, social media, repeat.
In fact, it was about time for another session of social media doomscrolling.
I opened one of the apps to photos of an early Christmas celebration from one of my undergrad friends, followed by photos of an office holiday party from one of my high school classmates, and a video of my former skating instructor’s dog dressed in a Santa hat.
“Geez, is anyone posting about anything other than Christmas today?” I mumbled. I looked at the date on my phone: December 21. Oh. I guess that explains it.
Somehow over the course of the last few weeks, I had found myself looking forward to Christmas for the first time in thirteen years. I thought I would be spending the holiday with my new friends, in a beautiful real-life snow globe.
Instead, I was sleeping on my best friend’s couch, too embarrassed by everything that had happened to even call my brother and tell him I was back in the States.
My mind flitted to the book still tucked away in my suitcase: a leather-bound, illustrated guide to the world of Tolkien.
I had found it hidden in a corner of a bookstore the weekend after Thanksgiving and had bought it as a Christmas gift for Knox.
It had cost a fortune, but I hadn’t minded—imagining the look on his face when he opened it made the price well worth it.
My heart ached knowing that I wouldn’t get to give it to him now.
I stretched, catching a whiff of myself as I raised my arms. I tried to remember the last time I had taken a shower. Was it the day Sam and I got back? The day after? Time had started to meld together.
I heard Sam’s keys in the door and glanced at the clock. Somehow it was already time for her to be home and I had just lain the day away on the couch, again.
“Hey,” Sam said as she walked through the door, a shadow crossing her face as she glanced my way, no doubt taking note of the empty beer bottles that sat on the coffee table.
“How was your day?” I asked, not even lifting my head off the throw pillow I was lying on.
“Fine,” she replied curtly. “What did you do today?” she asked as she took off her coat, then reached for a wine glass and a bottle of her favorite red.
“Nothing, really. Watched Queer Eye. That’s about it.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, taking a sip of the wine.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, turning so my body faced her over the back of the couch. Sam liked her home spotless and in order, and I knew that me being here was throwing her off. Well, and the beer bottles and my dirty sweatshirt strung across the coffee table.
She paused, setting down the wine glass and anchoring her hands on the countertop. “Birdie, you know I love you.”
“Yes. And?” I knew there was more coming.
“And I understand that your heart is hurting. I’ve been there.” She looked down at her wine glass, fiddled with the stem, and took a breath in. “But girl, you need to figure your shit out.”
I blanched. “Excuse me?”
She came around the counter, settling into the armchair adjacent to the couch.
I watched her warily. “We’ve been friends for what…
five years? I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve heard you talk about your mom, like really talk about her.
I’ve heard you mention your dad even less.
But fun stuff? That’s never a problem for you.
You’re one of the most fun people to be with and I adore that about you, Bee, but Knox was right.
I think you’re so afraid of becoming your dad that you refuse to acknowledge your big feelings. ”
I crossed my arms and stared at her, my eyes narrowing.
“Yeah, I knew this was going to piss you off,” she said with a sigh. “But I can’t just sit here and watch you be miserable like this. I’ve enabled you enough by not pushing you to leave Americana.”
“I like working at Americana.”
“Oh, please. You said yourself it’s a dead-end job. It’s not even a decent job for anyone who wants to wait tables or tend bar, and you know it. You have a fucking master’s degree—use it! Get a curator job! You know that’s what you really want to do with your life.”
I shook my head, trying to form the right retort.
She cut me off before any words had even escaped from my lips.
“I know. I know it’s scary,” she said, her tone softening.
“It’s terrifying to send out your resume and put yourself out there and hope someone likes you enough to give you a chance, but you have to try, Birdie. You have to give yourself a chance.”
I swallowed thickly, blinking back tears. I grabbed one of the couch’s throw pillows and fiddled with the edge.
“And you need to tell Knox how you really feel.”
My head shot up, tears starting to fall. “What?”
Sam stood up, coming to sit beside me. She put her arm around me. “Remember how I’ve known you for five years? I know you, bitch. I know you love him, even if you don’t.”
I sagged into her arms, finally letting out the torrent of tears and emotions that I had been holding back for days, weeks, years.
I sobbed for my mom, for the years lost with her.
I sobbed for my dad, who loved so hard that he couldn’t pick himself back up when that love was lost. I sobbed for teenage Birdie, who had to cook dinners for her little brother and make sure he got to school on time.
But most of all, I sobbed for Knox, the only man I had ever truly loved and had lost as a result of my own inaction.
“He doesn’t want to speak to me,” I finally said through my tears, my voice muffled by the linen of Sam’s favorite blouse.
“I don’t think that’s as true as you believe it to be,” she said gently, rubbing my back as I continued to cry.
“I was awful to him. And then I was awful to his best friend in the whole world. And then I left without saying goodbye to anyone. I don’t think I’m exactly his favorite person.” I took a shaky breath, wiping my eyes. “Besides, he deserves so much more than a mess like me.”
“Do you love him?” Sam asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, look at that. That’s progress, right?
None of us are our best selves in the span of a day—that stuff takes a lifetime of work.
But if you’re willing to put in the work and be real and honest with him, I think you might just find that it changes everything.
” She kissed my head, gave me one last squeeze, then stood up.
“I need to get changed; I have the firm’s holiday party tonight and I probably shouldn’t wear a shirt with your snot all over it,” she said, picking up her wine from the kitchen as she made her way to her bedroom. “And take a shower, you reek.”
After the longest and most satisfying shower of my life, I spent the evening making a plan for the rest of the week. I wasn't sure if I would ever have a chance to repair things with Knox, but I could at least start by repairing myself.