Page 57 of Don't Tell Me How It Ends
His news outranks my uncertainty. I whip around in my seat to face him, grabbing at his forearm with both of my hands without a second thought.
“They wanna buy it?!”
And the pride behind his smile lifts any remaining awkwardness that had settled between us.
“Dang, I kinda wanted that one,” I joke. “Seriously though, I’m not surprised. You better do something special to celebrate this.”
My hand hasn’t left his arm, but I only realize it when his eyes fall to where we’re still connected.
He smiles once more, but this time he bites it back a little when he says, “I already am.”
—
I’m sure the pregnant lady, currently asleep in my bed, had planned to wait up and grill me about my day with Ro, but it’s after 2:00a.m.by the time I change into my pajamas.
I forgo my ten-step skin care ritual—the sign of a truly successful night out—and crawl into bed with Zola, her breath coming steady beside me. And as my evening with Ro replays behind my closed eyelids, I try not to let myself wonder what it might’ve been like to crawl into a different bed with a different someone’s breath at my ear.
17
As nostalgic as it isto fall asleep curled up with your big sister, the way you did as kids, waking up mere inches away from a fully alert set of beady brown eyes staring you down is a terror all its own.
“Hi,” she says, once I’m finished screaming.
“Jesus, Zo,” I gasp, clutching my heart as it kick-starts itself back to life.
Zola’s unbothered by my near-death experience and wastes no time. “So have you guys talked since you got home?”
“Good morning to you too,” I say, but she just stares back at me, waiting. “A little. Before I passed out,” I tell her. “But nothing to warrant that look on your face. I can promise you that.”
“No need for promises,” she says, reaching a hand out, expectantly. “Let me see.”
I could fight her on this, refuse to show her my phone, but it might actually be good for her to see with her own eyes that there’s nothing going—
“Oh my god, Kaia. What is this?”
“What’s what?” I ask, grabbing for my phone, but Zola pulls it out of reach, and begins to read aloud.
1:59am
Ro:Hey, thanks again for coming. I hope you had as much fun as I did.
Me:so glad I got to go
Ro:Me too.
Me:Thanks for the invite. It was exactly what I needed.
Ro:Oh yeah?
Me:Yeah! before the next round of Zola’s torture.
Ro:Ah. Right.
When Zola finishes reading, she’s wide-eyed. Her jaw slack, and dangling.
“What?” I ask, retrieving my phone from her now limp hand.
“You cannot be serious. Did you hear what I just read?”
