"You should reconsider. We could put you in our tent. I mean, mine and Paul's. It's big enough for one more person."
I crack my knuckles for no reason. "I don't know. It's in what?"
"Two weeks, I think," she says, swiping her phone screen. "Yeah, exactly."
"Probably too late to get a ticket anyway." My tone says I'm flirting with the idea of going, which is absurd because I'm not. I'm totally not. I can't go if Ben's there. Obviously.
Mara pouts, conceding. "Oh yeah. That could be a problem."
Good. Problem solved. I'm not going.
She gets lost in a message on her phone, her fingers flying in response while she talks to me.
"Sorry... One second. Meanwhile, tell me about the man who made you trade bikinis for rain jackets?"
I laugh awkwardly.
Discussing Richard with Mara feels totally out of place, since I've no idea what Ben told her after we split up, so I hedge. "All you need to know is: steady, ambitious, perfect credit score."
"Mm. Nice," she says, distracted by another message that lit up her screen. "Who's his favorite artist?"
I smirk because I'm not surprised she'd ask that. "Honestly? Probably Ravel."
Mara frowns, mentally scrolling through every pop-artist she knows. "Is that some rising star?"
Somehow I manage a straight face. "I hope he's not rising. He's been dead about a hundred years."
"Oh. He's intothat." She laughs at the joke, and then looks at me like she's got Richard figured out in that one sentence.
Which isn't that far from the truth.
"He treats you well I hope?"
I drain the last of my wine, feeling a little languid, and take in the couples around, wondering when was the last time Richard and I went out. Nod. "Yeah. He's an anchor to my floating head. I don't deserve him."
Her lashes sweep up. "Okay, no? You're the sweetest thing,babe." She finishes typing and gives me an earnest look. "I mean it. You need someone who actually gets you. Protects you. Maybe a little obsessed with you?"
"Ideally a lot," I joke, but not really.
"Yeah, like build an altar for you at home," she says, and I don't think she's joking either. She's a fierce matriarch.
"Can you suggest it to him? He might listen if it comes from you."
"That's arrangeable. I'd love to meet him," she chirps. "Maybe that way you won't disappear from my life like before?"
I wince a little, smile apologetically. "I'm sorry, Mara. That was just because of the—"
"I know," she cuts in quickly, her expression soft. "But you were always my friend, babe. I don't want you to think I picked any sides. I love my brother, but I know how complicated he can be. So, call me whenever you need a friend. Doesn't matter what it's about. Okay?"
"Okay," I say, and I mean it. Or at least, I want to.
"Besides," she goes on, "I'm here for two more days. We have to go shopping or—"
Mid-sentence, she stops. Her eyes dart past me, then narrow slightly, and she mutters something under her breath.
"What?" The turn happens before I can stop it.
And just like that, I forget how to be a normal person. How to sit still without rearranging every part of myself that might give me away.
