Page 90 of Good at Being Alive
“No,” he says after a moment. “I’m not. I’m just saying that you need to be careful because you’ve taken something from him, and he’s not rational enough to care about whether you meant to take it.”
I’ve got a disaster brewing on every possible front: the show and thus the company could be in ruins if Bryce doesn’t shut his mouth. The public is not going to forgive what I did.
And Bex…I’m falling a little harder for her by the day, and I think she’s falling too. But I doubt she’ll forgive me either.
Bex
That question Theo asked methe other day echoes in my head no matter how often I try to stop hearingit.
And every time I hear it, an answer pops up, unbidden—one I wish I hadn’t heard.
What else did you do to keep the peace?
I drive past a park and remember how I quit travel soccer because Bronwyn didn’t make the team. All it took was Jessie’s pursed lips, a night or two of her suggesting that she’d go somewhere else with Bronwyn all summer so I wasn’t “rubbing it in their faces” to make me decide I didn’t care about playing.
What else did you do to keep the peace?
I jog past my school and suddenly remember the annual placement tests. Bronwyn and I both took them in second grade, our first year as a family, and Jessie had a fit when I’d been placed in a higher math group than Bronwyn.
“How’s that supposed to make Bronwyn feel?” she’d said to my dad. “If this situation isn’t good for my daughter, it’s not good for anyone.”
There was a veiled threat there:If Bronwyn is suffering, I will leave.I saw that threat written on her face anytime I got a bettergrade than Bronwyn, anytime I finished a book first or did something especially well. Bronwyn was happy for me. Jessie was seething, as if I’d done it maliciously.
So I handed over everything I was good at, and when I got in trouble for bad grades or for fighting with someone who’d ridiculed me for those bad grades, it was always followed by a lecture from Jessie, one she’d end with “I’m gonna let this go,” as if I should be grateful she was tolerating me when I’d only given her what she demanded.
I’m not sure how remembering all of this benefits anyone, however. It’s making me hate a woman who’s dead and resent the man who should have stood up to her. It even makes me resent Bronwyn a little, though she had nothing to do withit.
And bearing a grudge against three family members who died tragically makes me feel worse about everything—myself included—than I alreadydo.
• • •
Just before I begin my journey to Bergen, Lars texts both me and Theo.
Lars:Your flights get in hours apart, so Bex, you’ll just go straight to the house. You’ve got a long trip, so we’ll let you rest and do our first shoot that night.
Me:We’ve got a house?
Lars:Issue with the hotel so we rented houses instead. The men are in one, the women in the other. Katrina will text you both individually with your addresses.
Theo:Surely there’s a decent hotel room in Bergen. I’ll find something.
Lars:We’re already here, and the houses are amazing. Much nicer than a hotel, and after the incident on the last shoot, some cast and crew bonding seemed in order.
Argh.
After a ten-hour overnight flight with a layover in Oslo, I cab to the place the show rented for me, Paula, and Katrina. It sits just beneath a mountain and has incredible views of the city and lake off its decks. Inside, it’s all Scandinavian bleached wood and pale furniture and would be incredibly romantic, were I sharing it with Theo.
I fall face-first into bed, and when my alarm goes off at five, I pad groggily into the living area, wiping the sleep from my eyes. Katrina pulls off her headphones and glances up as she shuts her laptop.
“You look like you need another week of sleep,” she says.
I pull my hair back with the ponytail holder on my wrist. “I feel like it too. What are you doing?”
She rolls her eyes. “Watching this nonsense my sister sent and fuming.”
I laugh. Katrina has two stepsisters—a younger one she adores, and an older one who sounds unbearable. “What’s Helena done now?”
“I suggested Paros, but she wants to go to Ibiza so she’s sending one TikTok after another about people who didn’t like Paros. I knew she’d do this…God gives us siblings so we’re used to dealing with pricks in the real—” She stops herself suddenly, her eyes wide. “God, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
