I look up to see Britney in the doorway. “You destroyed my relationship,” I say. “I hope you’re happy.”
“I didn’t destroy anything,” Britney says. “It was broken way before I came along. All I did was tell you the truth.”
I drop the bags to the floor. I hear them rustle against each other. “Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you? It’s not my fault that Jordan wanted—”
“You?” Britney laughs. “Please. You think I care?”
“Jordan told me about how you went to him that night,” I say. “He told me you kissed him.”
Britney’s eyes flash. “God, you’re young,” she says. “I didn’t want Jordan. I kissed him—so what? You’ve never gotten lost in a moment?” She looks at me and it’s like she’s seeingmymoments with Jordan. That day on the beach, our night in Tokyo. “It didn’t mean anything,” she finishes. “It was always Rainer.”
“So that’s why you told me?” I say. “To get him back all for yourself? Even if it meant hurting him?”
“Hurtinghim?” Britney stares at me. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? Do you have any idea what it’s like to be assaulted by the father of the man who you love?”
“Okay.” Alexis steps between us and holds her hand up. “Let’s take this down a notch.” She looks helplessly at me, but my eyes are fixed on Britney. All of a sudden, my blood has run cold. I hear every sound, like my senses are on hyperalert. The next-door neighbor’s lawn mower, traffic moving outside.
“No,” I say. “I don’t.”
Britney just stands there. She looks broken.
“I’m sorry Greg did that to you,” I say.
Some hair falls into her face, but she doesn’t tuck it back. “I saw the way you looked at me at the MTV Awards,” she says, her voice just a register softer now. “And I know what you think of me. I don’t need your pity; I know you hate me.”
I shake my head. “No,” I say. “I don’t hate you.” It feels true. “I think you’ve been in a lot of pain,” I continue. “I didn’t really know how it could feel—the press, the lies, all of it—until it happened to me, too.”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“You’re right,” I say. “It’s not.”
Whatever happened to me, it’s a million times worse, what happened to her. Ichoseto call Jordan. Ichoseto let my feelings take over. But Britney? Britney didn’t choose any of it. Not what happened, not how the story came out, certainly not its lasting impact. She was a victim. We both wanted the same thing: the chance to write our own story. But I’ve been doing exactly what the press has to both of us—I’ve been filling it in for her, and that hasn’t been fair.
Britney sucks in her bottom lip. The gesture feels oddly vulnerable from her. “Greg told Rainer to date you,” she says.
“Yeah,” I say. “You mentioned that.”
“But that’s not why he’s with you.” She blinks and looks away. Alexis shifts next to us. “He loves you,” she says.
I feel my heart catch in my throat. I can’t think what to say but the truth. “I love him, too,” I whisper.
No one speaks for a moment, and then Alexis steps in. “Brit,” she says gently. “Maybe we should head down to Georgina’s.”
Britney nods and turns to leave the bedroom, but I stop her.
“I want to start over,” I say. “I think we both made a lot of assumptions. I’d like to change that.” She looks back at me, and for a moment our eyes lock. I see something familiar in hers. Something that reminds me a lot of myself.
“There’s no such thing as starting over,” she says. Then she leaves the room. I hear the front door open and close behind her.
CHAPTER 18
Britney is right. There is no such thing as starting over. But going back to Hawaii, landing, and breathing that clean air and the faint smell of plumeria on the soft island breeze makes me think that maybe the way you move forward is to go home.
Because as soon as I make my way groggily off the plane and down the corridor and through the sliding glass doors to outside and the air hits me, I feel it. I feel like I’m home.
The night smells like flowers and sea salt—a mix that is somehow invigorating and peaceful, all at once.
No one here notices me. Or at least they don’t care. I take my hat off and shake my hair out. I hike my carry-on higher on my shoulder and take the familiar route out to the left and down the stairs to baggage claim.
