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At least there were only three weeks until I left for Venice. It would give us both some distance after the Wake Up Call of Regret. After the summer, things could go back to normal. Pretending things were fine wasn’t new territory to me.
“Hasn’t stopped him from trying to burn a hole through your skull with his eyes.” Another reason to keep things between Marisa and me platonic for now. It hurt almost as much as my calves.
I’d try to toe the line through the end of next season, but then all bets were off. Then he couldn’t lord my future over me, and I could finally tell her how I felt—if it wasn’t already too late.
Marisa picked her bag up off the floor, double checked for her passport and wallet in the front pocket, and gave me a smile like she was psyching herself up for the first day of summer camp. The first smile in the three weeks since That MorningTM.
“Now you won’t have to worry about me bugging you during workouts or forcing you to go out for late-night ice cream runs.” I didn’t mind any of that one bit.
Berk’s hung up on his pen pal and has been keeping a low profile since they’ve started trading dirty letters.
I had to subsidize her rent a little to make it work. I’d pay off the private loan once I got my signing bonus in the spring. The interest rate was ridiculous since my parents’ credit was shot and I barely had any, but it was for less than a year. The stretch would be worth it to have her close, no matter how much that killed me.
“LJ, enough with guilt tripping yourself. Sometimes I swear you’re only friends with me out of obligation.” Her laugh was reedy and a little stilted.
All those same crazy scenarios I’d run when she went to New York came roaring back. Would she be safe? What if she had the time of her life and never came back? What if she met some guy?
What if she came back and I’d lost my shot?
The house party looked like fun. Christmas in July was a great theme! Were you pretending to be Santa or something? There was a lot of lap sitting, LOL!
I can’t believe you had a Nerf Battle without me! Who was the new girl? You haven’t replaced me already, have you?
Seems like things are pretty busy there. Lots of hanging out. I didn’t know you were taking summer classes. I guess we don’t have to tell each other everything, right?
For the first week every email or text had gotten a same day reply—sometimes same hour. And then the gaps got bigger. A full day, then two days, and once, a whole week. A sign of things to come. I’d better get used to it, right?
the museum director, had dropped more than a few hints about a fellowship in museum curation they ran at the Guggenheim. It would mean two years in Venice while working on my master’s. I’d told him to let me know when the application period opened.
there had been a piece missing. I didn’t want to think about that piece. One I’d seen in social media pics surrounded by women fawning all over him.
Even though I’d said I’d get back on my own, knowing Liv was willing to battle the airport traffic to come get me didn’t suck at all.
an obnoxious cloud of multicolored balloons walked through the door, the person holding them completely obscured by the colorful latex. “Who is this asshole?” Liv mumbled under her breath.
I didn’t need to see the maniac to know exactly who would show up at the airport with a circus’s worth of balloons. LJ’s face lit up the second he spotted me
But there was also a part of me that feared a day where the cancer came back. Would I stop being Magician Marisa? Would he still look at me and tuck a strand from my unkempt ponytail behind my ear, before tugging on it like we were eight again.
“How could I not welcome Marisa back properly? It’s been forever since I’ve seen her. I wanted her to know without a doubt how much she was missed.”
The front door opened and Berk and Keyton burst past the door frame holding a cookie cake.
“I’m just glad you’re here.” Berk jerked his thumb in LJ’s direction. “Maybe Mr. Mopey will lighten the hell up.”
Sometimes it felt like I could disappear and no one would really care. It felt like I was a temporary fixture in someone’s life until they moved on. But with LJ I felt like I mattered—always.
“I can’t believe you did this for me.” He peered over at me and my stomach flipped like there was a wacky-waving-inflatable-arm-flailing tube man going bonkers inside. “When are you going to get it? I’d do anything for you.”
It was a slow song. LJ had one hand behind his back and held the other out to me. “May I have this dance?”
Staring at him, I knew then that my feelings for LJ were real.
Third time was the charm, right? Pushing up on my tiptoes, I pressed my lips against his.
“You saved my dad’s life. The debt doesn’t get any bigger than that.” And with his words a chill ran through my body. My hand shot to my lips. His hesitancy came back to me. How much of this was because he wanted me too, and how much of it was because he’d written me a blank check for what he’d do to repay me for something I’d never had any intention of cashing in on?
I’d never been drunk. Other kids snuck into their parents’ liquor cabinet; I got in trouble for hiding my mom’s booze.
And we can forget all about our kiss. We can forget how I thought this would change everything. We can forget about ever being more than friends.
Marisa walked in wearing her pajamas. The long sleeve t-shirt and shorts combo had always been killer, but it was even worse now. She’d fling her legs up over the side of the couch while studying or hop up on the counter while I was cooking, swinging her legs back and forth. Or, worst of all, she’d burrow her feet under the side of my leg when we watched TV.
Bed head Marisa. Falling asleep on my shoulder on the couch Marisa. Studying intently at the kitchen table Marisa. They were all driving me crazy.
“You loved Venice, right? Spending more time there would be a lot of fun. You could explore even more old paintings and sculptures.” Her breath hitched and she stared at me intently like she wasn’t sure she’d heard me right.
A month and then the summer off and as long as I needed to convince her how much she meant to me. Once her Italian summer was over she’d come back in time for my first pro season to start.
“And you’d be fine with me going?” “Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not like I’m not going to be busy. A new season. A new team. A new city. Who the hell knows where I’ll end up? We probably wouldn’t get to see each other much anyway.”
The summer she jumped from ‘is Marisa getting boobs’ to ‘holy shit, guys are literally tripping over themselves in the hallway to watch her walk toward them’.
“We’ll have to cancel next week’s dinner. We’ll be on our way back from Michigan late afternoon on Monday.” “Oh no, I’m so upset.”
And I just turned in my application for the two-year Guggenheim fellowship in Venice.” I choked on my iced tea, shooting out of my chair. My chair flipped back, clattering to the floor.
“Two years.” I sunk back into my chair, dazed, trying to picture my life without Marisa for 730 days.
“You’ll have someone who can show you the ropes and you’ll be working with him for a whole year.” An art history guy with an accent, who’d already been showing her around Europe. I could see the social media post of the two of them making out under the Eiffel Tower with a tasteful, antique diamond ring on her finger.
“Reece and Seph are practically married.
Now tell me why you don’t think I should be upset about you leaving for two years.” “All I’m doing is leaving first.”
After graduation we were supposed to have all the time in the world. After graduation we were supposed to finally have our chance. But after graduation she was running to Europe and ready to say goodbye.
“Plus, he and Keyton got here about twenty minutes ago and he hasn’t come over here and jumped onto your back or anything, but he’s checked you out at least fifty times.”
“Archer’s is the closest bar to the house with good music, why wouldn’t we come here? It’s not like I decided to come because I knew you were here.” Least convincing acting ever.
“It hurts to think about losing my best friend.” All the convincing, all the preparation, all the reminders wouldn’t lessen that hurt.
Dealing with drunks wasn’t anything new for me, but I was used to the ones who landed their blows with words.
It was Keyton. Keyton, who looked seconds from ending Chris in the bathroom hallway.
“I should’ve let Keyton kill him. Better yet, I should’ve joined in.” His fingers moved in small, slow circles on my arms. Dropping my head, I cringed. Four distinct finger patterns wrapped around both arms.
