by Anne Harper
Sloane had described it the best.
“I get that they tried to make it look like an underwater treasure trove being discovered by sailors, but I don’t understand why Carol is wearing a crown and has a trident,” she’d said. “Is she guarding the treasure? If she’s the queen, is it her job to do that? And what exactly are Marcus and Felicity supposed to be? Why are they wearing a suit and a ball gown? And where are the plants? Isn’t it supposed to be the gardening club? My God. I have so many questions.”
Brady doubted Carol’s float participants would have any fun during their time in the limelight. However, Cassidy’s Place? As soon as the bell rang to let everyone know it was showtime, everyone around them was all giggles, shouts, and selfies.
“Watch out, Sloane! Mermaid numero uno coming through!”
Dixon’s coconut bra clacked as he hustled over to the front of the boat. Sloane gave Brady one more look before moving out of the way. She and Santana took their stations at either side of the middle and adjusted their respective pirate outfits. Dixon lay out like he and Brady were supposed to and pulled his fin down over his bare feet.
Dewey and the several bar patrons hurried to their places next to the boat. They had on shirts with the bar’s logo and all had a pint glass in one hand and their cell phones in the other. Callum made a whooping noise from the rolled-down driver’s side window of Brady’s truck.
Brady looked back at Sloane one more time. She was adjusting the stuffed parrot on her shoulder while the plastic sword Justus had loaned her was in her other hand. Santana said something he didn’t catch, and Sloane laughed.
Everyone was excited. Dixon had even started talking about next year’s parade as they were putting on their body glitter.
Brady should have been excited right there with everyone.
But next year had only made the stone in his gut that much heavier.
…
Arbor Bay High’s auditorium was prepped and ready for the pageant rehearsal later that afternoon. It was a far cry from the parade scene, yet Brady and Sloane had already been stopped four times on the way inside and told that Cassidy’s Place had had the funniest float. It might not have been the best-quality attempt or the most clever, but the general consensus was that people had enjoyed it. Considering Brady hadn’t wanted to do a float in the first place, he was pleasantly surprised.
Then again, Sloane had put together almost everything, so maybe not.
It only reaffirmed his belief that she must kick total ass at her event-planning jobs.
Of course, thinking about her jobs again had taken all the mirth he should have been feeling, and his mood plummeted. He knew Sloane felt it, but she never said a word. Not about that. Not about them. Not about what happened after the pageant was over.
And why should she?
Brady’s mood soured even more when they walked inside and the auditorium was filled with the pageant participants, volunteers, and Golden Boy himself.
When he saw them, he waved and smiled. That easy smile.
Salt in the other wound.
“So, I knew logically that being in a pageant meant being onstage in front of a lot of people, but I guess it hadn’t really hit me until now.” Sloane shook her head. “I’d forgotten how many seats were in here. What’s the thing you’re supposed to do to get over stage fright? Picture the audience in their underwear? Or is it naked?”
“If my regulars really do come to this thing, I suggest not picturing them in anything but what they’re wearing.” Even to Brady’s ears, his voice was cold. Clipped. He rolled his shoulders back, trying to distance himself from that damned piss-poor feeling that had been eating him up.
Sloane arched her eyebrow high. If she did ask what was wrong, what would he even say?
What we’ve been doing lately is nice, but you’re about to split, and I can’t come after you. Real romantic, huh?
Everything that had happened between them?
It wasn’t real.
It wouldn’t last. Not like her love for Marcus had. He’d been a fool to think otherwise.
“Well, how fun was that parade, huh?”
Carol looked like she’d just won the grand prize on The Price Is Right as she swooped into their sight line. She held a clipboard but never once looked at it.
Sloane nodded. “Yeah, it was! People are still uploading pictures and videos of our float!”
“It was smart to decorate Roger’s boat like a pirate ship. Even if the theme was supposed to be sailors.”
Sloane shrugged. “I’m just glad so many people seemed to enjoy it.”
Carol nodded. It should have been a red flag, but, like they were blind, they didn’t see her plan until it was too late.
“All right, well, since you two are our famous little couple here, we’re going to use you to check out the sound and lights for the About Me sections.” Carol pointed back toward the stage. “Marcus can help you get the microphone on and working, Sloane, and Brady, we’ll have you stand onstage so our lighting crew can get the positioning right. It’ll be easier to split the roles so we can get out of here faster. Okay?”
Brady had to try hard not to grumble, especially when Sloane met with and followed Marcus just offstage. Carol directed Brady to a spot that conveniently gave him a clear sight line to the two.
Pull it together, Brady.
He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the task at hand. But then it happened.
Marcus pushed Sloane’s hair behind her ear to place the small earpiece and microphone that each competitor would use during their talking and talent portions. It was an innocent move. One that made sense.
But then Sloane smiled at him.
And then Carol went for the jugular.
“She sure does look happy. I’ll sure miss her when she goes back home. Won’t you?”
That’s when Brady knew two things for certain.
One. Carol had been playing chess since the first night he’d kissed Sloane in the bar. She somehow knew Brady wasn’t Guy, and, what’s more, she somehow knew her brother was. Instead of using the information to out them, she’d decided to toy with them. To apply pressure to the crack in their relationship that was their lie. To remind him, without saying a word, that Sloane had loved Marcus since she was seventeen and still had less than five months ago when she wrote the last Guy blog post. And that, at the end of it all, she would go back to where she belonged. A life that didn’t include him.
How could Brady compete with either?
Two. Carol had won.
That pressure created a chasm out of a crack. And Brady couldn’t fake it anymore. He shook his head just as Sloane turned and met his eye.
She was beautiful.
Brady looked back at the devil debutante. “Fuck you, Carol.”
Then he jumped off the stage and walked away.
…
“Brady?”
Sloane’s voice came through the speakers at the edge of the stage, but Brady was already on the other side of the auditorium doors.
Carol hurried over, already talking fast. “I don’t know what happened, but he seems upset.” She grabbed for the little control box clipped to Sloane’s belt loop. “Let me turn this off so you can go chase him!”
Sloane didn’t understand what was happening, but when Carol stepped back, she was running. Brady had made it to the lobby doors when she caught up.
“Brady, stop! What’s wrong?”
Her heart was galloping but still managed to pick up speed when the man whirled around and answered within the space of a breath.
“I quit.”
Sloane slowed until there was only a few feet between them. “You quit what? The pageant?”
He shook his head and motioned between them. He was angry, and she didn’t know why.
“This. Us.” He shoo
k his head again. “It’s not working out for me anymore.”
“What do you mean? I don’t understand. What happened in there?” Sloane felt her face go hot. “What did Carol say?”
“Nothing.”
“She must have said something! I mean, one second we’re fine and—”
“I read the blog post,” he interrupted. The anger in his eyes left. Same with his voice. Then he sounded tired. Resigned. “I read it, Sloane. The one you wrote five months ago.”
Sloane’s stomach clenched. He didn’t need to explain which post he was talking about.
“I can’t compete with that. I can’t compete with Marcus.” He put his hand to his chest. “You’ve known me for two weeks. Him? You’ve loved him since you were seventeen.” He sighed. “And I think it’s time you told him.”
Sloane felt like she was trying to mentally walk down a very steep hill in very tall heels. She couldn’t get a comfortable footing. And she was terrified of falling.
“You want me to tell Marcus?” she couldn’t help but repeat.
“I think you owe it to yourself, yeah.”
“And because you think I love him, you want to end our arrangement?”
“I don’t want this to be an arrangement at all.” There it was. Hurt, clear as day. Sloane heard it in his voice, saw it on his face, and felt it as his gaze shifted down for a second. “And that’s why I can’t—”
“I don’t want this to be an arrangement, either.” The words came out before she could stop them.
Sloane wasn’t known for actually saying what she was thinking. That was how she’d gotten herself in the whole viral situation. It was easier to type on a keyboard. Easier to dream about life than live it. Easier to hold on to something safe than try to go after the unknown.
And she was tired of it.
She took the smallest of steps forward. “The other day, we talked about connecting to people, and I had no right to give any advice on that, because when my parents died it hurt too much. And I guess I got into the mindset of why would I ever want to go through that pain again? Why should I connect with anyone I don’t have to? The risk of caring so much about people is that when they leave, for whatever reason, you’re left with all that pain. That emptiness. And, well, that was too much for me. Why would anyone willingly risk that? So I started a blog. One where I could feel like I was living out loud when all I was doing was hiding away. But somewhere within the last two weeks, I was reminded why people do take that risk every single day. Why people leap in the first place.” She smiled.
At the thought of the people she cared about most.
At Emma and Callum.
At Brady.
At a memory.
At herself.
“They do it for matching tattoos and movie nights where no one shuts up. For embarrassing sex stories and getting stuck in windows. For camping under popcorn ceilings and dancing, badly, to Toto songs. They do it for ice cream by the kitchen sink.” Sloane let a small sigh out. “I don’t love Marcus. Not anymore. Not for a very long time. I think it was just easier to hold on to something I never had so when it did go away, it didn’t hurt.”
Brady watched without a word as Sloane reached out and put her hand on his chest. Then she met his eye and hoped he took what she said next to heart.
“But you have helped show me that without the risk, there is no reward. People don’t leap to fall. They leap to try and fly.” Sloane went to underline her main point. “I want to be with you, Brady Knox. No more playing pretend.”
Brady’s jaw tensed. He shook his head. She knew then he’d already made up his mind.
“But the life you loved no more than two weeks ago is still out there,” he said. “And I don’t fit into it. We both know that.”
Sloane opened her mouth, ready to say they could make it all work if they wanted, but the horrible thing about small towns?
They were small.
And there was always someone right around the corner.
The doors to the lobby flung open. Brady moved at the sound, creating distance between them.
Sloane refused to count their moment over. But then she saw who had made the noise.
It was Callum, red-faced and panting. At his side, Marcus Robertson.
“What’s wrong?” she asked her brother while giving him a look she hoped said you’re interrupting.
Callum had to catch his breath for a beat. “Sh-she must have locked the auditorium door. We had to use the back one and run around th-the damn building.”
“What?”
Marcus pointed to Sloane.
“Carol didn’t turn your mic off,” he said angrily. “Everything you’ve been saying has been broadcasting back in the auditorium.”
Sloane felt ice go through her veins. “E-everything?”
Marcus nodded with a small, apologetic smile.
Carol Fucking Robertson.
Sloane started to rip the headset off but caught herself. She looked at Brady, standing tall.
“It’s okay. I don’t want to hide how I feel anymore,” she said, resolute. She looked back to Brady. His face was a blank slate, but she had to say what was in her heart. “I love you, Brady. Everything after that, we can figure out. Together.”
Sloane had finally become the girl who said something.
Something real. Something raw. Something that could absolutely bite her in the ass.
Sloane De Carlo had taken a risk, a big one, and now it was all on the man who had been worth that risk.
Brady didn’t take long. “I’ve already said what I wanted to say.”
He turned around and left without another word.
And just like that, it was over.
A pain she couldn’t touch split her from heart to head. The urge to press her hands against her chest to try and keep it from falling apart butted up against the mere fact that she didn’t have the time to process it all. Not yet. Instead, within that moment, she decided there were two more things she had to do.
The first was staring at her.
She took a breath, then took off her mic and walked it to Marcus. Her words came out fast and clear, taking with them the weight of her most-guarded secret.
Not that it was a secret anymore.
“I loved you for a long time, and I should have told you, but I didn’t, and I’m sorry I wrote about you in the blog. But even though that last blog post was about still being in love with you, I didn’t really feel it. I don’t think I have in a while. It was just easier to hold on to something familiar than deal with the unknown.” Sloane didn’t feel like smiling, but she hoped she looked sincere. “Still, I’m really sorry for putting you in the spotlight. You’re a great guy, and I really do wish you and Felicity every ounce of happiness there is.”
Sloane didn’t wait for him to respond. She could feel herself on the verge of breaking down, and there was still one thing she needed to do.
Callum called after her as Sloane marched her mic back to the auditorium. A hush settled over the room as everyone was all eyes on her when she entered.
Sloane didn’t care. She had something else that needed to be said. This time to the other Robertson twin.
“What an awkward accident,” Carol said when Sloane was closing in. Her words were already sticky-sweet, as if she was innocent in everything and ready to passive-aggressively spar.
Sloane wasn’t having any of it.
“You know, I keep trying to figure out why it is that you are such an awful person, Carol, but, honest to God, I have no idea.” Sloane let her voice ring loud, in absolutely no mood to play with metaphorical kid gloves on. Carol sure hadn’t been. “At first I thought it was just the generic mean-girl mentality. You know, the terrible clichés you see on TV and in movies. Or maybe you’re just the stereotypical popular girl who, for whatever reason, thinks
she’s better than everyone and tries to grab on to even more power because she’s really insecure. But, Carol, you know what?”
Sloane paused, just enough to give her an opening. Carol, however, had gone silent. No honey smile in sight or fake laughter to be had.
She continued. “I don’t give a flying fuck why you are the way you are, but just know that if you keep doing what you’re doing? One day you’re going to look around and no one will be there with you. It’ll just be you and your bitterness, wondering why you’re alone. Because if some good people don’t get their happy endings, then spiteful people like you, no matter your reasoning for being that way, don’t stand a chance.”
Sloane tossed her mic to the socialite.
Then it was her turn to leave.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sloane was leaning against the kitchen sink eating ice cream when Emma showed up the next day around lunch. There was still some glitter in her hair left over from the academy’s float, but everything else about her was somber. Sloane watched her in silence as she opened up the drawer next to the sink and took out a spoon. Then Emma took up the spot next to her.
“Last night, I told you to call me when you woke up today,” Emma finally said, spoon in the air. “I gave you space when you didn’t, thinking you might have slept in, but then I decided you might be avoiding your phone. So here I am.”
Sloane didn’t try and hide her sigh. “The video Carol was streaming live from the auditorium went viral. My phone isn’t handling the attention well.” She slid the carton of chocolate ice cream over across the lip of the sink. Emma accepted the invitation by putting her spoon in it to get a bite. “Plus, I figured if anyone really wanted to see me, they’d know where to find me.”
They both knew who Sloane was really talking about, but neither said his name. Instead Emma gave her a small smile. It said that Tough Love Emma had been checked at the door. She took a small scoop of ice cream out and then was all best friend.
“I know I said it last night, but I’m really proud of you.”
Emma had said that the night before, when she’d come over after the pageant ended, but she hadn’t explained why.
