“And I didn’t have your back with your Mom after bringing up grad school,” I say, wishing I, too, had a mug to hide behind.
“Right. And then I heard you on the phone with Kat and…” Ellie leaves the rest of the thought behind her. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you though.”
“And I shouldn’t have left the table in the first place,” I say. “I promised to back you up on the grad school conversation and I didn’t. The transfer app deadline thing really sent me into a spiral, and suddenly it was like…why am I even keeping up this dating charade, you know?”
“How are you doing with that, by the way?” she asks. “With the transfer stuff?”
If only that were my only concern. Between missing the transfer deadline, Ellie no-showing the reopening, and my parents’ upcoming move, I’ve been striking out left and right. “Honestly, I’ve been on a losing streak.”
Ellie breathes a laugh through her nose, but there isn’t an ounce of humor in her sad, sunken eyes. “Me too. I, uh.” She swallows hard. “I got rejected from NYU.”
My heart drops to my kneecaps. “Shit, really?”
“And my backup school. I got both letters yesterday.” She slowly drags her gaze up to meet mine, and when our eyes lock, her eyelids are heavy, like they pulled the weight of the world up with them. “So I guess I’m not moving to New York,” she says.
There’s a teeny, tiny happy dance brewing inside me, but it drowns in a flood of sympathy. Between this and getting dumped, that’s more rejection than anyone could take. And this isn’t just anyone. This is Ellie. “How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Sad,” she says plainly. “I cried for, like, three hours yesterday. But only one hour today, so that’s an improvement.”
“Baby steps,” I say, realizing I haven’t cried at all about U of I. What does that say about me?
“It sucks, but it’s not like those were the only two art therapy programs in the country,” Ellie goes on. “And living in New York was my dream with Mary. Maybe there’s a new dream without her.”
“You’ll find it.”
“Soon, I hope,” she grumbles into her mug. “That stable, convincing plan we tried to sell Mom on made me realize how much I need that.”
“A plan?”
“Stability,” she corrects me. “Like Marcus with his salary and his fiancée and his fixed-rate mortgage. Bringing you home was like…” Ellie’s eyes glaze over momentarily, but she blinks it away, letting a shudder roll through her. “I felt like that kind ofgirl, you know? The girl who brings her girlfriend home on holidays and contributes to a retirement fund. Like someone with her life together.”
I swivel my chair a little, leaning in with a secret I’ve been dying to share. “You know, Marcus hasn’t always had his life together,” I say. “Did you know he got fired from Sip?”
Ellie bristles. “Really? He told us he quit.”
I shake my head. “He got caught stealing from the tip jar.”
“Seriously?” Ellie’s eyes go wide. “Says who?”
“Says my manager.”
Her mouth falls open a full two inches. “Shit, that’s bad.”
“I’m just saying, your brother didn’t always have his life together as much as you thought. Maybe we don’t have to either.”
Ellie’s eyes crinkle with the start of a smile. “Thanks for that,” she says.
“Of course.”
“And for what it’s worth, I meant what I wrote on Thanksgiving. Iamthankful for you. You made me feel like that kind of girl.”
A prickle of warmth climbs up my neck. “I’m thankful for you too. If I would have been at the table, that’s what I would’ve said.”
“Really?” Her dimple winks at me.
“Obviously.” I pause for a breath, enjoying the little bit of space where things between us are easy before my next question makes them hard again. “So what comes next?”
Her laugh is amused, if not a little smug. “Well, next you can admit that you’re reaaallly into me.”
