“But he—”
“I know,” she said, her eyes locked with mine. “Live to fight another day.”
So I followed my friends out, and we rode quietly home, our joy dissipated like air from a deflated balloon.
As I watched the video to edit it, though, I saw a different version of myself. The Vivian at karaoke was in her element, her eyes bright and laughter prevalent. The last snippet of video was an off-center selfie-style version of all of us—Abi, Mom, Rachel, and me—swaying as we sang “That’s What Friends Are For,” but it was my favorite.
Life doesn’t come to us in perfectly centered frames or precisely performed moments.
I knew then that I couldn’t afford to put off the things I wanted to do. In fact, now that Dylan was off at college and Mitch had decidedhe didn’t want to share life with me, I had no reason to put things off. I needed to live my life.
Mitch’s loss. Because the Vivian Quackenbush I saw on video was fucking delightful.
I recorded a coda for the video, my voice scratchy but my heart light. I had done something new, something I had always wanted to do but had been afraid to do. I had worn the color I wanted to wear. Most importantly, I had shared the experience with the very people I wanted to.
And I had walked away from trouble.
No matter what Mitch did, he couldn’t take that away from me.
Chapter 19
Once again I awakened to the less than dulcet tones of my buzzing phone.
I sat up straight in bed. Maybe my karaoke video had taken off like my other one. After all, I’d gotten pretty deep with my thoughts there at the conclusion.
Nope.
Once again, it was an unknown number.
I started to ignore it, but then I thought it could be someone important, so I answered with a lackluster hello, kinda like a child who wakes up on December 26 and hopes that Santa might’ve come an extra night, only to discover the spot under the tree bare.
“Vivian?”
“Yes,” I said, now confused because I couldn’t place the voice. For a half second I thought it was Mitch, but that was my mind playing tricks on me.
“This is Parker.”
Parker?
“Vivian, are you there?”
“I’m here. Sorry. I was confused because your name didn’t pop up.”
“I got your number from Cassidy, who got it from Suja,” he said sheepishly. “I, uh ... Well, I kinda need your help again.”
“Right now?”
“Yeah,” he said, and I could tell from the way his voice lilted at the end that he was trying to keep his cool but was seriously freaked out about something.
“What do you need?”
“Soooo, Cassidy has apparently started her period.”
“Oh.”
Of all the things I’d expected him to say, that was not it.
“I called my mom, but she lives in Arkansas. First, Cassidy wouldn’t go to school. Now she won’t come out of the bathroom because she doesn’t have whatever it is she needs, and she doesn’t trust me to buy them for her. Her grand plan is to wait for a friend to come home from school. Do you have anything?”
