by Jillian Dodd
“But they welcomed her into the sorority, and I know she felt privileged to be in their company. I can’t imagine it personally since they’re the worst. But I’m older now than she was then, so it’s easier for me to see. Now, I think she sticks with them out of habit and feels like she has to. Besides, she’s so busy with work all the time; she doesn’t have the energy to make new friends.”
I never expected a whole dissertation. “Not that you’ve given any thought to this.”
“Shut it.”
“No, it’s okay. You’re her sister. It’s only natural for you to have given this some thought. Especially when you don’t like those girls. You must’ve done a lot of wondering about why she spends time with them.”
“Yeah. Among other things she’s made me wonder about.”
“Speak of the devil.” I jerk my head slightly, indicating the group of girls farther down the beach. Kylie is with them. “I hope she finally chills out. Maybe a couple fruity drinks will help.”
“I don’t know that drinks will take the stick out of her ass.”
“I think I feel sorry for her.”
“You would.”
“I’m just saying. I love you. You know I do. But it’s not like she tied you up and held lit matches to your feet. Imagine peaking at a super-early age. You have to spend the rest of your life living up to that impossible standard.”
“Sounds a little like you.”
“Oof, you nasty thing.”
“I wasn’t trying to be nasty. Seriously, I wasn’t,” she insists. “I’m saying, it really does sound like you. You peaked so early and with hardly any of the growing pains most people in your profession go through. How do you do better than that? How do you top yourself? Because, of course, people expect you to.”
“There you go. It stinks. It more than stinks. It’s the worst.”
“Yeah. Now that you put it that way …” She laughs, which is a surprise, given the nature of the topic. “Leave it to you to make me look at her in a different way. Isn’t it usually the other way around? Aren’t I the one telling you how silly you’re acting?”
“Would you use the word silly? I’d use the word … charming.”
“I would not.” She snorts. But at least she’s not being all down on her sister anymore.
And she’s not asking pointed questions about the time I spent alone with Kellen.
I wasn’t kidding when I told her I don’t remember what we talked about. Nothing specific. I do remember he told me about his family, his job, his apartment. Basic cocktail-party small talk. He asked about my family. I told him about my parents. Grandmother and Peter. I do remember that.
I also remember that he thought it was pretty neat, the two of them getting together after so many years. And I remember thinking then that I thought he was pretty neat for feeling that way.
I still do.
I think he’s pretty neat in general. A little temperamental maybe. Grumpy at times. But a decent soul.
He didn’t have to stay with me on the bus. He didn’t have to be nice about it when he did either.
“Tomorrow morning is snorkeling,” Hayley reminds me, blowing a sigh through pursed lips.
“I think that sounds like fun!”
“So, you’re gonna do it?”
“Probably not.”
“Kitty.”
“Don’t try to strong-arm me into it either. I need to work down here too.”
“You are not going to do any such thing,” she growls. “You deserve the time off. And if you don’t come snorkeling—which will disappoint me, I’m not gonna lie—you’d better do something fun instead. Which means not working.”
“I have to at least take notes if I hope to remember anything I see down here. And I have to monitor my social media feed. I’ve been posting pics but not responding to any comments.” I raise my pitch, mimicking Maggie. “Interaction, sweetie. It’s all about interaction.”
“You do her voice way too well.”
“If she’d stop saying things worth mimicking, I wouldn’t have a reason to practice.”
“Who do you practice it with? You live alone. Do you randomly talk to yourself in Maggie’s voice?”
I turn to the water, raising a magazine in front of my face. “Shush.”
“Because I think that’s how Norman Bates got his start.”
“Quiet, pest.”
“Hey, girls!”
That gets our attention. We both look to the left, where Kylie and the rest of her bridesmaids have set up shop. Their chairs are in a circle, their feet in the center.
There’s a whole lot of tanned skin and acrylic nails in that circle.
“Hey,” Hayley calls back in a halfhearted sort of way. Like, I have to talk to you because you started it, but I wouldn’t have if you hadn’t said anything.
“You should come over here and hang out with us!” one of them calls out.
I recognize her as one of the girls who was flirting with Brandon on the bus.
The second girl adds, “Don’t worry! The elevation over here is the same as over there! Just in case you’re afraid of heights!”
“Oh, hell no.” Hayley scrambles out of her chair while Kylie clearly chides the girls for being mean.
While all I can do is sit in my chair, wondering what the heck I did to insult them.
Then, I break out of my stupor in time to reach for her. “You don’t have to do this. Don’t start trouble.” Though I know, even as I’m saying it, that she didn’t start anything.
“Do me a favor, okay?” Hayley stands with her back to me, hands on her hips. “Keep your nasty little opinions to yourself. And keep your hands off my brother.”
“Okay,” I whisper, eyes darting back and forth between her and the circle of girls.
But it’s not okay.
“You wanna know why we’re not over there with you? Because you’re ridiculous and vapid, and the only reason I’m on the same island with any of you is because I have to be for my sister. That’s it. So, pretend we’re not here together. Got it? Thanks in advance.”
She then plops down in her chair and orders another drink without so much as a glance in their direction.
I don’t know if I’m scared of her or if I want to kiss her.
“Sorry,” she mumbles, staring straight ahead. “I couldn’t keep quiet. Nobody messes with you or Brandon. End of story.”
“I agree. On the Brandon thing anyway. I would never want you to get in a fight because of me.”
“It’s no big deal. Trust me. I would’ve said something about Brandon sooner rather than later anyway. You should’ve seen them hanging over him. He’s too good for this world.”
“So are you.” I can’t help but giggle, though I’m still mortified. “You know you’re never going to like anybody your brother dates until you start looking at him as a man and not, like, some unworldly man-child.”
“Probably not. You’re right.”
Kylie comes at us like a storm. A very blonde, very angry storm. “What the hell was that supposed to be?” she hisses, arms crossed over her midsection.
“It was supposed to be me telling your so-called friends they’re a bunch of mean girls who need to grow up and get a life.” She looks up at her sister, shrugging. “I mean, you were there. You didn’t see it? You didn’t hear it?”
“You’re the one who needs to grow up.” Kylie casts a look over her shoulder. “You could’ve just come over. They were trying to be friendly.”
“They were being nasty, catty bitches, and we both know it. I have no time for that. Just because you do doesn’t mean I have to put up with it. So, get that idea out of your head right now, okay?”
“It’s my wedding, Hayley.”
“No kidding, Kylie. And until now, I was fine with playing nice, pretending to be friends. But not when my best friend is being insulted for having a panic attack over something completely normal. I’m sorry, but if you bothered to know me at all, you wouldn’t expec
t me to put up with it for a second.”
Meanwhile, here I am, sinking deeper into my chair.
I’m the reason they’re having this fight—somewhat. How am I not supposed to feel like I did something wrong?
It looks like the rest of this week is going to be even more uncomfortable than I imagined.
CHAPTER NINE
One thing is clear by the time I reach the dock, where we’re scheduled to gather for the snorkeling session.
Absolutely no one is in any condition to go snorkeling.
Well, not no one. There is one person in particular who is over-the-moon excited to get started.
At least, she’s doing her best to convince us she is.
“I’ve always wanted to do this!” Kylie is in a one-piece suit, its white color standing out against her tanned skin, and she looks absolutely radiant.
Though, on closer inspection, the lines etched over the bridge of her nose, between her knitted brows, tell a different story. The girl is wound tight enough to pop. No matter how hard she smiles, it’s obvious she’s a mess inside.
There is only a handful of us out here. Hayley is on her way down, I know. She had a surprise phone call from the office that needed her attention. I want to tell Kylie about this, to explain why her sister isn’t with us yet.
Silly me, thinking that would be the biggest problem this morning.
Somebody needs to tell Zack’s groomsmen to lay off with the heavy drinking. Just like yesterday morning, they all look like death warmed over. Even worse since this is the second hangover in a row.
For all I know, it’s much more than the second. Maybe this is the sort of thing they do every night in their real lives, though if it is, I have to wonder how they manage to hold down jobs. I know that if I were their boss and they showed up every morning with a green color to their skin and the vague look of being on the verge of throwing up, they wouldn’t work for me for very long.
Call me crazy.
“I might sit this one out.” That’s Mitch, one of the groomsmen. He’s speaking low, like anything louder will make his head fall off. “I, um, don’t feel so good.”
“Is there anywhere to sit down?” asks Dave, another of Zack’s friends.
Our instructor looks to Kylie, his brow lifting. “Maybe this isn’t the best time for your group to do this?”
I barely manage to keep from cringing openly since I can only imagine how she’ll take this.
Her jaw twitches, and her eyes narrow, but she maintains that overly bright tone of voice. “Maybe we don’t all have to do it, but I did book this time.”
I can tell what she’s not saying out loud since it would be rude.
She paid for this time. And now, the buffoons her fiancé is friends with are ruining it.
All except for one.
While even Zack looks a little green around the gills, Kellen is as fresh as a daisy. It’s like he’s living in some parallel universe, outside the rest of them. I know I saw all of them together at the bar just off the lobby last night. He was with them.
Maybe he’s only drinking soft drinks? Maybe he knows his limits?
“I’m game,” he announces. “I’ve always wanted to do this too.”
Kylie shoots him a grateful look.
The instructor shrugs. “Okay, let me demonstrate how to use the equipment.”
Which is precisely the moment when Mitch throws up all over the place.
And I do mean, all over. I’m glad I’m standing nowhere near him since the splash radius is pretty extensive.
Everybody jumps back in horror. Dave covers his mouth with his hand and ducks behind a tree where he, too, throws his guts up. The smell is appalling. I turn away with my hand over my mouth and nose, gagging a little.
“Everybody, back away,” the instructor barks.
I can tell he’s disgusted, both from the smell and from the fact that these people can’t get their act together.
And he’s hardly the only one.
I shoot a look Kylie’s way, only to find her practically simmering, glowing bright red on the verge of turning purple.
“Are you kidding me?” she demands, and there’s not so much as a hint of the sweet, smiling girl who was just with us a few moments ago. “Are you determined to ruin this? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Obviously, it’s a rhetorical question, but even if it wasn’t, there wouldn’t be time to offer an answer because she turns on her heel and runs away.
My heart sinks. The rest of her bridesmaids are too busy holding their noses and reacting in disgust to think about following her. It seems like I’m the only one with the nerve to do it.
Or the only one with a death wish since there’s no way to predict how she’ll react. Granted, I’m not the one who puked all over the place, but there’s a reason the expression don’t shoot the messenger exists.
She’s too quick for me, and I quickly lose sight of her when she rounds a bend in the path. It forks off in two directions. One direction heads for the main building, and the other goes toward one of the pools.
I decide to go toward the pool since I doubt she would want to run to the lobby in tears. She wants to be alone.
And, no, the fact that I’m determined to find her when she wants to be alone is not lost on me. But the poor girl needs somebody to talk to, somebody to sympathize. And if there’s one thing I have for her right now, it’s sympathy.
I follow the path then, which brings me to the open, semicircular bar situated several feet from what’s referred to as the quiet pool. In other words, it’s the pool where people are expected to behave themselves. The bar is empty at this time of the morning, but a certain bright white swimsuit catches my eye.
She’s crying. Holding her face in her hands, shoulders shaking. It’s the sort of moment I feel bad about stepping into, but the thought of her crying alone now of all times just about breaks my heart.
“Hey, Kylie.” I touch her shoulder with a tentative hand.
We’ve never been close or anything. We know each other and have been to a few of the same events, thanks to our connection to Hayley, but there’s hardly what you’d call intimate friendship between us.
She jumps a little at this, her head whipping around. Her eyes are watery, her nose red. “Oh. Hey, Kitty. Sorry. I didn’t think anybody was out here.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” I go through my tote for tissues, which I hand to her. “Here you go. What can I do for you? What do you need?”
A soft laugh bursts from her when she’s finished blowing her nose. “You’re a really nice person. I’ve always thought that.”
“Thank you.” Random but appreciated.
“You’re probably the only person who’d find me here and ask what I needed. That’s what I mean.” She sighs, combing her mussed hair with her fingers. “Mom would remind me how happy I’m supposed to be right now, basically shaming me for having feelings. Dad would threaten to kill whoever made me cry. Zack would smother me. Any of my girlfriends would … I don’t even know. Probably bring me a drink and scream, Yaaaaassss, in my face until I knew I’d better stop crying or they’d never let up.”
I have to laugh at that because I can totally see it happening. It’s exactly the sort of thing her girls would do.
Well, not all of them. One in particular would sooner rip out her own tongue.
“Hayley would ask why you’re crying and what you need,” I murmur.
She stops short of rolling her eyes. Barely. “My sister? She can’t stand me. We’re oil and water.”
“I wouldn’t take it that far. I’ll grant you the oil and water thing, but it’s not because you’re different. It’s because you’re so similar.”
There’s an empty chair next to her, and I drop into it. “It doesn’t help that your parents always compare the three of you, and she always comes in last place. I know it hurts her. She works really hard and is pretty spectacular in her own right.”
“I agree. I do,
Kitty,” she insists, making an X over her heart with one finger. “I think she’s amazing. So does Brandon. I don’t see why Mom and Dad always act like there’s a competition among us. Maybe they think it fuels us to do better. I don’t know.”
“It’s not fair.”
“No, it really isn’t. I should’ve said something to her a long time ago.” She looks at me, eyes still red-rimmed and watery. “Thanks for putting it to me that way. I needed to hear it.”
“No problem.”
“And I have to tell you something.” She turns to me, facing me head-on. “I am so sorry for what the girls said to you the other day. That whole thing about the panic attack you had. I felt really bad about it, but I was more upset over Hayley starting trouble. I know she doesn’t like the girls. I want everybody to get along.”
Her chin trembles. “Why isn’t this going the way I had it in my head?”
“Nothing ever does,” I whisper, taking her hand. “And that sucks, and I’m sorry. I can’t tell you how many things I’ve planned out in my head, down to the last detail—I mean, beginning to end, leaving nothing out. Do you know how much of it goes exactly the way I wanted?”
“But I’ve worked so hard.”
“And anybody with eyes can see that. Ever since I got here, I’ve been marveling over all the work you’ve done. The baskets? Girl.”
She offers a slight smile. “I wanted everybody to feel welcome and appreciated.”
“It was a great touch.” Maybe a little much, but … “Everything you’ve done is perfect. Exquisite. But I have to tell you something, and I hope you don’t take it the wrong way.”
She braces herself.
“It’s not the end of the world, believe me. I think you should relax now. Let go. You’re holding on so tight, like your fist is always this way.” I hold up a fist, clenched as tight as I can until it shakes. “See? This is you holding on to what everything is supposed to be like. Managing every second of the day. It hurts. It’s no fun.”
I open my fist, cupping my hand. “This is how you could be. Accepting what happens. Holding it but letting it go when something else comes along for you to enjoy and remember. You’re not enjoying this. You’ll only remember being stressed. That isn’t fair. I’m afraid it’ll only make you sad when you look back.”
