Page 60 of Good at Being Alive
I laugh and push the bottle toward him. “Sorry. Just had to slip that in there, which is what you clearly hoped wouldhappen yesterday. But yeah, it’s weird to go from doing so much, like nonstop, to doing absolutely nothing at home.”
“I’m so glad you’ve introduced the topic.” He takes another sip of the limoncello before he hands it back to me. “Have you given any more thought to what you might want to do with your life?”
I lift the bottle. “I’m pretty sure this covers it. There will probably also be some sleeping.”
“Bex.”
I exhale heavily. He’s so tiresome when he’s pursuing the truth. “I don’t know. It’s like I’m not sure who I am anymore.”
Tourists unload from the chairlift and descend toward us. We step closer to each other, like pioneers circling their wagons.
“Why?” he asks. “Your situation has changed butyouhaven’t.”
I tip my head. I think maybe Ihavechanged. I sense it inside me, this odd sort of opening up, an unspooling. I’d stop it if I could—but I don’t think I can. It’s as if there’s an entirely different girl, long buried, and she’s digging her way out whether I want her to or not.
“I was always going to come in second before, and I was used to that,” I admit slowly. “To give you an analogy you’ll understand, it’s like Bronwyn was William and I was Harry.”
“You realize wedoactually have regular family issues in the UK? You don’t have to relate everything back to the royal family.”
I shrug. “I was going to do a Harry Potter analogy, but nothing came to mind.”
“Truly, the analogies are unnecessary. Let’s start at the beginning. What was your favorite topic in school?”
“Physics,” I say, turning for the line to the chairlift. “I really liked physics. Ifailedit, but I really liked it.”
He laughs. “So you weren’t good at it? This might not be helpful.”
I hesitate, then release the breath I didn’t know I was holding. “No, actually, I was. I failed on purpose.” I told myself I just didn’t care enough to try, but that wasn’t it at all, was it? “They wanted to put me in AP Physics. But I couldn’t do better than Bronwyn without it becoming a problem for Jessie. It was…” I shake my head. “I did it for a very long time.”
“Jesus,” Theo whispers. He grabs the limoncello from my hand and takes a long drink. “Is that why you do it? Is that why you try so hard to convince everyone you’re some slacker who does nothing but watch TV all day?”
“Idowatch a lot of TV,” I reply.
“You’re a lot more than that,” he says. “I think it’s time to stop pretending otherwise.”
I guess he’s right. Iammore, even if I don’t show it. It’s the part of me that’s digging her way out. And I don’t know who I’ll be when she arrives.
• • •
Three hours later, we’re back at the airport and heading in different directions: Lars, Paula, and Katrina will fly to LA for their other show, Caden and I to New York, and Theo to London.
It’s a relief to be back in my own clothes again—leggings, sweatshirt tied around my waist, sneakers. I can spill whatever I want on the flight home and no one will be the wiser. That’s pretty much the only part of this that’s a relief, however.
Theo and I walk toward our gates together. His flight is already boarding and our time together is running out. I’m oddly desperate to make the clock just…stop. I don’t want this to end—hanging out, our talks, making fun of his erection to his face. But none of it is permanent, and he’s not here by choice.
“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when we get a divorce?” I ask again. I have to force the good cheer in my voice.
His smile is weak. “Sleep.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Me too.”
But I’m beginning to think I’ll probably cry first. A part of me is going to miss this when it’s done.
“You’re ready to be home again, I imagine?” he asks.
I should lie. I’d normally lie. Maybe it’s fatigue or maybe it’s the intensity of the time we’ve spent together lately but I just don’t want to lie right now. “I can’t remember a time when I ever looked forward to going home.”
“Even before the accident?” he asks.
