Page 57 of Saving Graces
The sight of Savannah leaning against the old car in faded jeans and a blue plaid shirt, her hair growing long again and her smile like the sun made her eyes fill with tears. They hugged each other hard, then Savannah jumped behind the wheel and they both talked a mile a minute. College, Abigail, Rosalie’s parents and Savannah’s new boyfriend Dan, a cute shy photographer who’d spent four hours in the diner one afternoon before finally getting the courage to ask his favorite waitress out. And then it was like blinking and winter break was over; Rosalie was back in LA.
A couple of years went by like that. A haze of college, her Californian life, an intermittent phone call with Savannah and then a couple of weeks of closeness every year. Their second year at college she and Abigail moved in together, sharing a bedroom in an apartment with three other friends. Both were planning on moving straight into their master’s degrees as soon as they’d finished their bachelor’s.
“We should do this for real you know,” Abigail said to her one lazy morning in bed, toward the end of their undergrad.
“What’s that?” Rosalie asked, flipping onto her back and staring up at the ceiling.
“All of it. We should get our own place, just for us. Make it official.”
Rosalie turned her head to look at her. Six months ago, Abigail had dyed her pink hair back to her natural brown and Rosalie was still trying to get used to it.
“Official?” she said with a smirk. “Everyone knows we’re a couple. We’ve been living in the same bedroom for a whole year. I think we’re officially official.”
“Living with a bunch of college friends isn’t official,” Abigail argued. “I want to be able to say, like, that’s my partner, you know. Not just my college girlfriend.”
Rosalie raised an eyebrow, her stomach feeling tight. “I mean… we’re twenty though…”
“So? We’re in love. We’re committed.” Abigail propped her head up on her hand. “Aren’t we?”
“I mean… yeah,” Rosalie said quickly. “Let’s do it.”
They both secured spots in master’s programs and celebrated by apartment hunting together. After putting a deposit down on a tiny one bedroom place in Alhambra, they each went home for Spring break.
During the car ride home from the airport, her dad spoke up out of the quiet.
“I feel like we don’t know anything about your life anymore. It’s like when we lost Rachel, we lost you too.”
Rosalie looked at him. He was focussing hard on the road ahead, and it took her a minute to fully absorb what he’d said.
“Well,” she said slowly, “I have a girlfriend. Her name’s Abigail and we’ve been dating for almost two years. We live together, actually.”
Her dad’s mouth compressed into a very thin line. She watched him swallow. He was quiet for several minutes.
“I’m happy for you honey,” he said eventually. “But maybe it would be better if we didn’t tell your mom.”
When Savannah arrived that evening, she was driving a big, old, beaten-up truck. Rosalie laughed out loud when she saw her small, blonde best friend literally have to jump down from the driver’s seat to hug her.
“What the fuck is this?” Rosalie asked. Savannah’s eyes sparkled brightly above her short white sundress and there was a heated flush to her cheeks.
“It belongs to my new boyfriend,” she said, her smile at full beam.
“Wait, what happened to Dan?” Rosalie pouted. She’d hardly heard from Savannah the last few months and she was starting to realize why. “He was sweet.”
“He was sweet,” Savannah looked momentarily abashed, “but I just… met someone, like… someone,” she paused, her eyes a little dazed, “like maybe the one.”
Rosalie examined her a little more closely. Savannah looked like she was floating about five feet off the ground.
“What?” she said. “Who?”
“His name’s Cole.” Savannah bit her lip but she couldn’t stop her smile. As they drove, she shared all the details. He was a few years older, twenty-six to her twenty-one. “He’s not a boy, he’s like… a real man,” Savannah breathed. She’d played a couple of cover songs at an open mic at Aloha, and he was the bartender who approached her afterwards. “He’s not just a bartender though, he’s an incredible musician. And, we’ve been writing songs together.”
“Is that a euphemism?” Rosalie asked and Savannah laughed.
“No! Though we’re also having a ton of sex.”
They were writing a lot, singing together and they were like, actually good? They were playing a gig tonight actually, just a couple of songs at a new artist showcase and would she please please come?
“Sure,” said Rosalie, a little miffed that her first night back home with Savannah was about to get hijacked by some dude. She hid it though. Savannah was so happy she looked borderline high and Rosalie didn’t want to kill her buzz.
