Oliver
Birdie, I’m so sorry for how things ended.
B, please talk to me.
Unknown Number
Hi Birdie, it’s Ginny. I got your number from Cora.
I just wanted to say I’m sorry to you. Renata told Gemma and me that she was going to sneak you banana at the baking thing but I didn’t know you were, like, *that* allergic.
Wait, Renata gave me bananas on purpose??
Yeah, and she was behind all the mean articles about you and stuff. I told her I don’t want to be friends with her anymore and stopped talking to her after Oliver kicked her out of the competition. Sorry that I didn’t do anything to stop her sooner.
TBH, I don’t really know how to respond to that. I guess I hope you’ve learned something from this. Thanks for the apology.
I set the phone down and leaned my head back against Sam’s couch.
Jesus, some people’s kids.I had known Renata was vile, but even I hadn’t seen that one coming. Never seeing that woman again was the one good thing about leaving Wexstone.
Thinking of Wexstone—of what I had left behind—hurt too much, so I turned my attention back to the TV whereQueer Eyewas playing. Since returning to New York four days prior, I had been sleeping on Sam’s couch and spending my days in a blurry cycle of Netflix, junk food, social media, repeat.
In fact, it was about time for another session of social media doomscrolling. I opened one of the apps to photos of an early Christmas celebration from one of my undergrad friends, followed by photos of an office holiday party from one of my high school classmates, and a video of my former skating instructor’s dog dressed in a Santa hat.
“Geez, is anyone posting about anything other than Christmas today?” I mumbled. I looked at the date on my phone: December 21.Oh. I guess that explains it.
Somehow over the course of the last few weeks, I had found myself looking forward to Christmas for the first time in thirteen years. I thought I would be spending the holiday with my new friends, in a beautiful real-life snow globe.
Instead, I was sleeping on my best friend’s couch, too embarrassed by everything that had happened to even call my brother and tell him I was back in the States.
My mind flitted to the book still tucked awayin my suitcase: a leather-bound, illustrated guide to the world of Tolkien. I had found it hidden in a corner of a bookstore the weekend after Thanksgiving and had bought it as a Christmas gift for Knox. It had cost a fortune, but I hadn’t minded—imagining the look on his face when he opened it made the price well worth it.
My heart ached knowing that I wouldn’t get to give it to him now.
I stretched, catching a whiff of myself as I raised my arms. I tried to remember the last time I had taken a shower. Was it the day Sam and I got back? The day after? Time had started to meld together.
I heard Sam’s keys in the door and glanced at the clock. Somehow it was already time for her to be home and I had just lain the day away on the couch, again.
“Hey,” Sam said as she walked through the door, a shadow crossing her face as she glanced my way, no doubt taking note of the empty beer bottles that sat on the coffee table.
“How was your day?” I asked, not even lifting my head off the throw pillow I was lying on.
“Fine,” she replied curtly. “What did you do today?” she asked as she took off her coat, then reached for a wine glass and a bottle of her favorite red.
“Nothing, really. WatchedQueer Eye. That’s about it.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, taking a sip of the wine.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, turning so my body faced her over the back of the couch. Sam liked her home spotless and in order, and I knew that me being here was throwing her off. Well, and the beer bottles and my dirty sweatshirt strung across the coffee table.
She paused, setting down the wine glass and anchoring her hands on the countertop. “Birdie, you know I love you.”
“Yes. And?” I knew there was more coming.
“And I understand that your heart is hurting. I’ve been there.” She looked down at her wine glass, fiddled with the stem, and took a breath in. “But girl, you need to figure your shit out.”
I blanched. “Excuse me?”
