“So do you wanna go together?” His eyes shine with hope and I instantly am sick to my stomach.
“I feel like that’s maybe a bad idea. I mean, what about Olivia?” I wince.
“Since when have you ever been concerned about Olivia?”
“Will…you called me because you were upset that your girlfriend of two years wants to go on a break. What is she going to think if we show up at the gala together tomorrow?”
His sly smirk shocks me back into the present and he shrugs. “Let her think what she wants.”
I press my lips against each other, nodding as I climb out of his embrace and off the bed. “Or you couldnottreat me like a pawn in whatever toxic shit you two have going on.” I turn to reach for the door.
“Genny, come on…” he croons, standing behind me before I know it. “It was a joke. I’m mad at her and I just…said that as a joke. You’re not a pawn. You’re my best friend and I love you. I really do want to go together tomorrow. Just as friends.” His sincerity is a balm to the embarrassment I just felt, but it does nothing to muddy the clarity I gained from it.
“I love you, too. But we’re not kids anymore. It’s not just you and me—there’s other people.”
“Right.Otherpeople.” The implication hangs between us and I can’t tell if it’s my guilty conscience or the way Will’s eyeing me like he knows everything going on between me and Grant, like he’s waiting for me to mention it, that has my panic taking over. For a reason I can’t completely place, it seems easier to just agree to his offer instead of just telling him the truth. I tell myself I’m sparing his feelings, that he’s in a fragile state, but part of me wonders if I’m protecting myself from the blowback of Will’s implosion.
“You swear I’m not just a way for you to get back at your girlfriend?”
“Ex-girlfriend,” he corrects and I roll my eyes. “But yes Gen, I swear to god. This entire thing is going to be miserable anyway. Maybe it won’t be so bad if we go together?”
“Fine,” I say, and it’s hard to decipher if I’m more pissed at him or myself, likely the latter. “But we’re only staying for the first hour.”
His eyes roll but his lips curve into a smile as he wraps his arms around me, and I lay my cheek against his chest, breathing him in. He smells like every happy moment ofmy childhood, and I wish I could stay here forever, breathing the time back into me. I know I can’t, though. Know that the world we inhabited then is so different from the one we inhabit now. Thatweare different now.
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Hmm,” I hum against his chest, tilting my head up to look at him one last time. “Goodnight, Will.”
“Night, Genny. Text me when you’re home.”
15
Gen
I’ve been standing on the curb for almost fifteen minutes in a black silk gown and honestly, I feel like an idiot. The last text I got from Will was from half an hour ago saying to come out, that he wasabout to pull up.I stayed in the lobby for a while but after the third time Lawrence, my doorman, asked if he should call me a ride share, I decided to save myself the embarrassment. The alternative: freezing in the pitch black of Boston’s October air. The loud thumping of a car’s bass comes from somewhere in the distance and I clench my jaw, somehow immediately knowing it’s him.
His black G-Wagon rounds the corner way too fast, his brakes squealing with the movement, and I force my eyes shut. I suck in a deep breath through my nose, the bitter taste of disappointment already pronouncing itself on my tongue as whatever rapper Will’s listening to disrupts the quiet night air. I don’t know why I thought this would go differently, why I hoped that tonight would resemble the numerous charity galas Will and I were forced to go to growing up. The ones where we’d get lost exploring thevenue or play silly pranks on the other guests, dancing and laughing despite the immense pressure of our adolescence.
Will rolls down his passenger side window, his waves slightly unkempt, his five o’clock shadow unshaved, but as with most things, he still looks devastatingly handsome in the fitted tux he chose for tonight. I narrow my eyes at the goofy grin he has plastered on his face.
“You’re late.” My tone is short causing his smile to immediately fall, his body language becoming defensive.
“I told you I was pregaming with Scott.” I grit my teeth because no, he did not tell me that. Of course, he did not tell me that. I roll my eyes, opening the passenger side door, only for my nose to be hit with the scent of cheap liquor.
“Are you seriously drunk right now?” I feel the wrath in my eyes pulsing through my muscles as I grip the passenger side door.
“C’mon—we’re going to a party. I’m fine to drive.” Will feigns innocence, which only pisses me off more because somehow, no matter how much chaos he causes, he finds a way to be blameless.
I march over to the driver's side, ripping open his door. “Move. I’m driving,” I bite out. Anger swirls inside me because thiswouldhappen. Hewouldbe handling what's going on with Olivia in the worst way possible and, on top of that, he would lean on someone like Scott who does nothing but enable him to be the worst version of himself.
Will rolls his eyes, using his hands to guide my waist to the side so he can slide past me and the feeling of him feels foreign now, so different than it did yesterday. I move into the driver's side, adjusting Will’s seat settings as he huffs down beside me.
“You can never just relax and have fun,” he says under his breath, but I know he wants me to hear it.
“Fun? You call getting wasted with that asshole, fun?” I clench the steering wheel, wishing I never agreed to this. I should be sneaking around with Grant at this gala, not babysitting a mentally fragile man-child who I used to be in love with.
Used to.
