Page 1 of Derivation

CHAPTER 1

Sarai laughed and picked up her beer bottle.

“Hey, you’re out. Want another one?” Gabi asked.

Sarai looked down at her bottle, realized it was empty, and said, “I shouldn’t. I’ve had three already. I was supposed to be the designated driver, but I guess we’re all going to have to take a car home because I didn’t cut myself off at one.”

“I can take you all home if you want. I’ve been nursing this beer for over an hour,” Gabi offered.

“No, you don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind.” Gabi shook her head. “Besides, Arlowe looks like she’s had a few too many already.”

“How can you tell? She’s busy making out with someone right now,” Sarai said, nodding in Arlowe’s direction.

“That’s how I can tell. I don’t make out with random women at bars unless I’ve had one too many.”

Sarai laughed because Arlowe was, in fact, known for making out with random women at bars and being completely sober while doing it.

“Do you?” Gabi asked.

“No, I do not, unfortunately,” she replied and pushed her empty beer bottle away. “Enya is sober.”

She nodded to Enya, who was sitting at the booth with Violet and Stella. Sarai and Gabi were standing at the bar, and they’d been there for a few minutes now, trying to get their check since Stella and Violet were ready to leave, but the bartenders had been busy and hadn’t gotten to them yet.

“How can you tell?”

“She had one glass of wine about two hours ago. She’s not a big drinker. I can also tell because she’s looking down at her phone. My guess is that she’s working.”

“She’s working?” Gabi asked. “At a bar?”

“She’s Enya.” Sarai shrugged a shoulder.

“You all have really lived together since you and I met in Amsterdam?”

“Not exactly, no. Initially, we all went our separate ways when we got back to the US, but we kept in touch. We were all seniors, so when we graduated, we came up with this idea for the business. Vi was going to grad school, so we kind of just worked on it when we could, but she’s very smart, like Enya, and graduated in two years. It was a three-year program, by the way. She’s just that big of a business nerd. When she finished, we went into it full-time, moved into the house, and we’ve lived there ever since. I’m thirty-two years old, single, with three roommates. Very successful, huh?”

“Two roommates now, right?” Gabi asked.

“Oh, yeah.” She looked over at Violet, who was giving Stella sex eyes, and added, “We need to get this check soon. They’re about to have sex in that booth if they don’t get out of here fast enough.”

Gabi laughed, and Sarai looked over at her. She couldn’t believe how much Gabi had changed but was also still exactly the same.

Daughter of a diplomat, Gabrielle Durand had been living in Paris, having just graduated from an international high school for diplomats’ kids, and she’d been on a gap year before she’d planned to go to college in Paris as well. Sarai didn’t remember what Gabi had been planning to major in, or even what college she’d planned on going to, but she remembered her father calling her back then and mentioning that a friend of a friend had a daughter who would be going to Amsterdam for the first time and could use someone to show her around. Sarai had been annoyed because she’d only had five months there, and she’d be giving up one of her precious weekends to hang out with some eighteen-year-old kid, but since she’d always had a hard time saying no to her father, she’d agreed and met Gabi at Amsterdam Centraal, the main train station, on a Friday after her last class of the week.

Gabrielle Durand hadn’t been what Sarai had expected, and for a moment, when she had been walking toward Sarai, who’d been holding up a sign with her name on it just outside of the station in front of the canal, Sarai had actually wished Gabi were a little bit older because she had been pretty: long black hair, deep brown eyes, beautiful tan skin, and the brightest smile that Sarai could still remember wanting to fall into, which wasn’t a thing, and she knew that. Gabi had also been tall, about Sarai’s height of 5’8”, and when she’d walked up to her that day, she’d held out her hand like she was in a business meeting with an important client.

“Hello. I’m Gabrielle Durand. You must be Sarai Kaplan,” Gabi greeted her.

Sarai shook her hand and said, “That’s me. Nice to meet you. Do you have all your stuff?”

“This is it,” Gabi replied, pointing to the regular backpack she had over her shoulders.

“You only brought a backpack?”

“It’s just a weekend. I leave on Sunday.”

“If I were going to Paris for a weekend, I’d have a backpack and two roller bags. I’d want to be prepared for anything.”