“Can I kiss you, Gen?” he asks so softly, I almost miss it. I blink surprised and feel a bit disoriented by the question. I’m about to blurt out an excuse and end our dance when I look past his shoulder and watch the closeness of Lily and Will, how they aren’t even talking anymore, just silently swaying. Both of their eyes closed. I look back at Dean and roll my lips together, arching my face up at his.
“Sure.” It comes out quiet, too and I’m not even sure he hears me until I feel his lips crash against mine. The movement is sloppy and uncoordinated, not at all what I imagined this would feel like. As I pull away, fighting the urge to use the back of my hand to wipe my face, I feel a deep sadness wash over me.
“I’m sorry, Dean. I—” Panic claws its way up my throat and I break away from him.
“Hey, are you okay? Did I overstep?” His face is concerned and I know that he’s probably a really nice guy. He’s just nottheguy.
No—he’scurrently dancing with a pretty blonde.
Regret consumes me and I know I have minutes to find refuge before I start crying.
“It’s not you. I just—I have to go.” I jog toward where I parked my bike, not worrying about letting Will know I left. Would he even care if I did?
I begin pedaling, feeling a range of emotions sweeping through me, my tears attempting to make their way down my face as I pass the streets, the sprawling homes going by in a blur.
I finally reach my house and throw my bike down, swinging the front door open, just wanting to get to my room as quickly as possible. To my utmost dismay, my mother is sitting in the foyer, a glass of white wine in one hand, her phone in the other.
“I’ll have to call you back.” She clicks the end call button on her phone and moves toward me.
“It’s late. Where have you—” She stops, clearly realizing the state of my emotions. Her eyes roam over my face like they’re tracing the track my tears are making, her breaths calm and even. “What is this, Genevieve?”
I swipe at the thin layer of tears coating my cheek, sniffing the tears back into the recesses of my head. She hates tears—she always has. “Nothing,” I tell her, making to move past her.
“What happened? Tell me now. Sit.” Her voice is firm but filled with more concern than she’s shown me my entire childhood. Granted, I don’t typically come home sobbing.
I take my time settling into the corner of the sofa, trying to regain my composure and failing, my lips wobbling.
“Did someone hurt you?” There’s a slight edge of panic in her voice and I can’t help but huff a laugh because yes—someone did hurt me. But it’s my fault for being vulnerable to him to begin with.
“No. Not like that. I just…” I glance over at my mother, her arms crossed against her chest as she peers pensively at me. There’s a subtle openness, a slight opening in her gaze, and I find myself wishing more than anything for a mother who’d nurse me through this kind of heartbreak. “Will met someone.” My face crumbles when I say it.
“And what did you do, hm?” She tilts her head, deep in thought.
I blink a few times, trying to formulate an answer. “I…I danced with someone else. He kissed me, but?—”
“Good,” she says, moving closer to brush a hand over my hair, her eyes the most maternal I’ve ever seen them. “They want you most when you are unavailable. He’ll come back, ma bichette. They always do.” The smile she gives me should make me feel warm inside, should be the reassurance I needed, but instead I still feel sick with jealousy and self-hatred. “He will tire of the girl. Will want what he cannot have.”
I don’t want to be like my mother, praying on the weaknesses of others for my own gain. I don’t want to wait around like a siren, luring Will into my net with tricks and schemes. I want to bewanted.
Above all, I actuallylikedLily. And I love Will. If I really love him…I should want him to be happy. Should be here for him, regardless of what that means for me.
My mother reaches for me, pulling me toward her and circling her arms around me in a tight embrace. She hums Fais Dodo, a song she used to sing to me as a child, and the memories and melody lull me like the waves of the ocean. I feel my heavy eyes begin to close and with each breath, I bury the pain of seeing Will fall in love with someone else.
24
Grant
“We’ll take two waters?—”
“Diet Dr. Pepper,” Gen says, scrunching her brows at me in disdain.
“Sorry—onewater and one diet Dr. Pepper.”
I can feel Gen smiling beside me, radiant in the afternoon sun, as we wait for the cart attendant to slide us our hotdogs and drinks. When he does, it’s to Gen, his gaze seeming to search her face for the magical element that has him staring so hard.
“Thank you so much,” she says, scooping up her meal as I grab mine, giving the guy a curt, but understanding smile.
The city’s busier than it was just a few weeks ago, the collective anticipation of the holiday season reverberating with every honk, every flash, every harsh halt of the brakes. It has me on edge, looking both ways and then once again as we cross the street. Gen is oblivious, it seems, arm looped in mine as she alternates between sips of her soda and the tiniest bites of her hot dog I’ve ever witnessed.
