She takes a deep breath, letting it out as she slides into the booth next to Sloane. Sloane’s hand flies to her own décolletage, frowning at Olivia with sincere pity, just as Olivia lifts her wrist.
“I just moved it. Please,” she says to Sloane, “enough with the theatrics.” Her lips curve into an amused smile, her eyes lighter than I’ve seen them… ever. We haven’t hung out since before Thanksgiving and have only gotten a few cryptic texts in our “Sloane’s Angels” group chat—very obviously named by Sloane herself.
Strawberry blonde waves almost brush the mountain of fries we ordered before Liv got here, but Sloane tosses her head back just as she snags a crisp one. Our server comesby with my soda and her second amber colored cocktail, and she tips her head at him with a flirtatious flutter of her lashes before cheersing me.
“So?” she demands of Liv, the motherly rise of her brows tugging my lips up into an easy smile. She reminds me of a bird with her hatchlings—pulling us up by our scruff, pushing us out of the nest, looking down with a knowing smile that saysyou’ve got this. Liv and I are her hatchlings, emerging into this new world on wobbly legs. Liv’s don’t seem as wobbly as mine, though, and for the first time since I’ve known her she seems infinitely happier than me.
Liv’s shoulders shrug as she shakes her head, stealing a fry to keep from having to answer. Sloane’s head tips to the side and I can’t help but grin, understanding her sudden shyness because that’s howIfelt just a few weeks ago. And for the millionth time today, my chest caves in a little.
“Well, I already told you guys about the diner,” she says, the smile she’s trying hard to stifle giving herself away.
“Yes, but we needdetails. We’re starved for romance,” I say, pushing the sadness down with a carefully crafted smile. “Clearly,” I add, the curve of my mouth turning sardonic against my will. Sloane’s eyes land on me, and I see the quiet anger brimming there. She’s mad at him, too, though her reasons probably run deeper than mine.
Liv, on the other hand, glides right past my little slip, and I’m grateful for it. Where Sloane is flush with empathy and compassion, Liv is far more reserved. It’s pulling teeth, getting that girl to tell us anything, but it also means that she doesn’t needlessly pry. I love that I have a little of both in the form of these two.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” she starts with that pretentious air I used to find so grating, “but he did stay. Well, he cameback after…” she trails off, decidedly not continuing that sentence, and I feel my heart plummet into the sparse contents of my stomach. “Anyway, we spent the week together. And it was so nice, you guys, we—” Sloane abruptly lifts her hand, her face scrunching up in mock disgust.
“We don’t needthosedetails. Actually, I never want those details from either of you. Ben is as brotherly to me as Grant, so spare me.” Hope blooms in my chest at the way she breathed life into Grant and I, just in those words, and I feel my eyes soften. “I want to know what hesaid,” she says, pretending to swoon in the booth.
“Raunchy retellings of sexcapades are firmly in your wheelhouse, don’t worry,” Liv smirks, stealing an extra ice water from across the table just as Sloane’s phone buzzes. “Speaking of,” she says, flaring her eyes at me in a still new-to-me show of companionship. She’s already better at this than I am, but I guess she had a best girlfriend for longer than I ever have.
“Not every date ends in a…sexcapade, as you so adorably called it,” Sloane chides, scooting Liv out of the way with her hip so she can slide out of the booth. “But this one probably will.”
“I just got here!” Liv pouts, her brows furrowing as we both look up at Sloane who, no doubt, planned for this to happen.
“And you were late, probably because you were sexcapading all over Ben’s insanely gorgeous apartment,” she says with the slight raise of her brow and a blush blooms across Olivia’s cheeks. “Anyways, I won’t stay over,” she says, rolling her eyes playfully before weaving her way to the door. “I’ll text you guys. To-da-loo,” she sings in tune with the door chime.
And then it’s just Olivia and I, assessing each other from opposite sides of our booth in Vida’s. It’s not lost on me that just a few months ago we sat here, intent on hating the very ground the other walked on, and maybe that’s why I ask it.
“How is he?” I say, barely a murmur. I know she spoke with him. Know that, in a bizarre twist of fate, she’s more aware of how he’s doing than I am.
“He’s okay, Gen,” she tells me, more care than I probably deserve in her gaze. She knows now that my feelings for Will were more complicated than she assumed, and because she’s a better person than I ever gave her credit for, she hasn’t guilted me for all the horrible ways I tried to get between them. Instead, she’s sitting here, letting me feel gutted over my inability to save her ex-boyfriend from himself. “Really. He calls a lot. And I can hear him when he talks to Ben. He’s more clear-headed than…maybe ever? I mean, since I’ve known him.”
The anxiety that had pooled low in my belly lessens, the knowledge that Ben is there for him quelling the worry I think I’ll always have for him.
“And you’re okay? Actually?” I ask her, still unsure how she’s taking the whole Lily thing in such easy stride. I would argue my world is in far fewer shambles than hers, but she seems so steady. I feel anything but.
“I guess,” she shrugs, a tiny glimmer of sadness in her gaze. “It’s like, sure—you were all lying to me,” she says flippantly, smirking, “but everything makes more sense? Maybe that’s toxic,” she laughs, but I just feel guilty.
“How aren’t you still angry?” I ask, my brows furrowing as I study her face. Our drunken conversation at the gala was unexpected, and I didn’t plan on repeating anything like it ever again. But then I told her about Lily, which wasthis unexpected weight off my chest, and once she knew it was like a veil lifted and in the clearing was Lily reaching her arms out to each of us. Not Will—we’ve had Will in common for years. It was thatLilyloved both of us that finally has me more curious about her than I’ve ever been.
She heaves a sigh, shaking her head as her teeth trail over her bottom lip.
“Because I know it wasn’t about me. The lies. You were just…reacting. And you were hurting, just like I was, just like Will was, just like Ben was…I think we all made terrible decisions because we were trying not to shatter.”
“I don’t know if your mistakes add up to ours,” I scoff a sad laugh, rolling my lips together. “Will shouldneverhave even talked to you.”
“No…probably not.” She stares down at the table for a moment, and when she glances up, her eyes are wet. “Is it crazy that I’m glad he did, though?”
My own water at the sight, the well of emotion rising within her spurring one within me.
“Yes,” I laugh, sniffing back a tear. “You guys were horrible together.”
“No—we were,” she huffs a laugh, swiping the back of her hand across her cheek. “But I think I might’ve drowned without him. Sometimes, I think Lily pushed us all together from the afterlife, or wherever the hell she went.” My eyes go wide, her crassness shocking but also endearing. “I just mean that it all feels…like it was meant to be like this, right?”
“It does,” I say on an exhale. “Sorry the fates threw you in with us.”
“Gen,” she croons, reaching for my hands across the table. “None of us are saints, including me. How many people can say they’ve slept with two men from the samefamily?” Her brows rise in challenge, her smirk light and playful.
