“You called Ava?”
Kit passes by me too. She actually does have a toolbox in her hand, but when she sets it down next to the pizza and opens it, it looks like she’s replaced all the tools with Saran-wrapped cookies.
She catches my eye and smirks. “Ben was not real happy about this.”
“I’m not hungry,” I say, but it’s a lie. That whole pizza can get in my face. A muscle relaxer chaser and I’ll be asleepwithin an hour.
Ten minutes later I’m sitting at the table, plates and napkins set out by Zoe, fruit sodas opened by Kit, meowing soundtrack provided by Kenneth, sullen face pulling courtesyof yours truly.
“Sooooo,” says Kit. “How’re things?”
Zoe snorts. “Let me guess.They’re—fine?”
“Ugh. Just let me eat my pizza in peace.”
“Did you hear anything about your showcase?” Kit asks. “Your graduation?”
Jeez, with friends like these. “Not yet. I got a nice email from Professor Hiltunen, asking how I’m doing. Nothing yet about whether he’ll write the letter.”Smarmy bastard,I think, the thought so uncharacteristic that I pick up my napkin, wipe my mouth. “He’s got a few days to decide, I guess.”
“He’ll come around,” Kit says. “Your pictures were amazing. The best of the bunch. Everyone said so.”
I take a sip of my soda, and for the first time since the showcase, one week ago, I remember that part of it—the part before everything had happened with Alex, the part before I’d been hit. Peoplehadloved the photographs. They’d looked for so long, had said how interesting they were. They’d asked questions—why a hat on the bed, how did I get the ladybug so close up, whatwereall those objects on top of the newspaper. I’d felt so good, standing in front of them, those sparkling, good luck memories of the past month. Before I’d noticed Alex had gone, before I’d seen him hunched against that lamppost, I’d felt a blooming sense of hope. I’dthought maybe—
“Have you called him?” Zoe says, getting right to the point.
“No,” Kit answers. “She hasn’t.” I shoot her a look, and she puts her hands up in something like surrender. “It’s not like I don’t talkto him, Greer.”
For a minute, it’s nothing but Kenneth’s begging meows, a chilly, awkward silence sprinkling over us like a snowfall—Kit, probably angry at me for what I’ve done to her brother. Me, jealous that she’s talked to him, curious about everything—where he is, what he’s said, how he feels. Zoe, stuckin the middle.
I reach out, past my stubborn, wounded pride, past my sad, self-imposed isolation, and take Kit’s hand. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry if I’ve messed things up with us, getting involved with him.”
Kit looks up at me, her glasses a little smudgy, probably with pizza grease. Sheismessy, just like Alex said, and I feel my heart squeeze in affection for them both. She gives me a watery smile. “You didn’t mess things up. You could never. You’re like a sister to me, you know that.” She shrugs. “I’m sad, that’s all. For both of you.”
I lower my eyes, feel tears press there. “Me too.”
“Okay but,” Zoe says, her voice loud, annoyed. “You couldcall him.”
“Z, come on.” I shift in my seat, unsure of how much to get into this with Kit here, but then I remember the night she came home. From the start, she hasn’t shied away from the truth of it. “He’s not cut out for this, a relationship. He never stays in one place, not forthe long term.”
Kit takes another piece of pizza, stuffs a big biteinto her mouth.
“You’re doing it again,” Zoe says. “You’re making excuses. You did it the first night you guysfooled around—”
Kit drops her pizza, puts her hands over her ears, and calls out “La la laaaaaaaa,” even through her big mouthful of food. Kenneth runs away, and Zoe’s lips twitch in a half smile. After a few seconds, Kit lowers her hands, narrowing her eyes across the table at Zoe while she chews.
“I’m not making excuses.”
“You are. You thought he’d be too afraid to be with you, because of Kit. Well, he wasn’t. You thought he’d bolt when he found out about your Chiari. Well, he didn’t. He took you on a trip and gave you the best s—” Kit yelps, and Zoe redirects. “You spent half the time he was here expecting him to leave, and he didn’t. So he’s got a job where he travels, big deal. So does Kit, these days. You could’ve tried to make it work. You sent him away because you didn’t want him seeing you like this. You didn’t want to give him a shot at figuring out whether being with you long term is what he wants, now that things have gotten hard, now that there’s not an automatic expiration date on the whole thing.You’rethe one who didn’t stay.”
“Uh,” Kit says, because that was—quite a speech. I feel like I got hit by the bike again. I wonder if I should look down, check for blood on the carpet. Kit shifts in her seat, fidgets with a piece of pizza crust on her plate. “I think—to be fair, Alex is—” She rolls her lips inward, looking pained. “He’s not always great at expressing himself. He’s defensive.”I don’t care if I never take another fucking photograph.
This time, a tear does spring out, gratitude for Kit’s generosity.
“She can take it,” Zoe says, keeping her eyes on me. “You told us yourself, Greer. You’re the tough one. You always have been.” She stands from her chair, brushes a crumb off her shirt like it’s business as usual. “I have to pee.”
If the awkwardness was a snowfall before, it’s a snow embankment now with only me and Kit at the table. It’s the North Pole of awkward.
“Well,” Kit says. “She certainly has opinions about this.”
