“We managed to win,” Daisy stressed playfully. Her laugh was rough and real.
Aiden munched on an onion ring and shrugged. “Look at that, Chelsea Cavanaugh is good at something other than being a bitch,” he said, but there was an undertone of fondness that Chelsea smiled at.
Shannon checked his phone and nudged Aiden with his elbow. “You have to restock the bar in the morning, right?”
Aiden nodded.
“It’s ten; we should go.” Shannon’s gaze locked with Chelsea’s—a look she knew well, even if they rarely shared it these days. Shannon told her, in a small window of silence and eye contact, to chill out. Her shoulders immediately slouched, and she rolled her lips together. She’d been unaware of the tension in her back until she felt it loosen.
“I’ll bring pizza home,” Daisy said to Aiden, gesturing at the four slices that were left.
“Breakfast,” Aiden noted. He chewed on a toothpick, glanced at Chelsea, and bit down harder when she looked back. “Bye, Chelsea. See you at home, Daisy.”
Shannon finished his beer, and the boys left. They still didn’t hold hands often and they weren’t overly affectionate in public. Chelsea watched them go and analyzed the brush of their arms against each other, the shared words under hushed breath, and the spark in their eyes.
Those two were in love, and it couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.
The realization that they were alone sent chills up her back. Chelsea was with her Rose Road, on their first date, at a bar in downtown Laguna Beach. She was leaning against a pool table, watching the woman she was supposed to fall in love with twiddle her thumbs. It hadn’t seemed like a date until now. Her heart jumped into her throat.
Revelations were not easy for a person who assumed she had the answers to most things.
“The ice cream shop closes in thirty minutes.” Daisy ground the toe of her boot into the hardwood floor. The dim lighting from the ceiling cast shadows along her face and small chin. She looked haunting in a way Chelsea wasn’t used to. “Do you want some? It’s right across the street.”
Chelsea nodded before Daisy finished talking. “That sounds nice,” she said.
Things could change so quickly in the span of a few hours. Before tonight Chelsea had seen Daisy out of the corner of her eye, a friend, a passing pretty thing to compliment, and Aiden’s peculiar roommate who worked for a video game company.
Daisy Yuen had become something else entirely, or she’d been something else the whole time—a wicked, otherworldly faerie, a mystical creature—and Chelsea had been too wrapped up in Shannon to notice.
A very beautiful woman.
Chelsea thought wings might sprout from Daisy’s back as she walked toward the front door, pizza box in one hand, purse over her shoulder, and her fingers stretched out, waiting for Chelsea to grasp them.
“I’ll meet you over there,” Chelsea said, because of course she did. “I just have to use the restroom.”
Chelsea had been taught how to lie under pressure, how to avoid complication.
Daisy offered a sad, gentle smile and nodded. Her hand dropped away.
8
Daisy typed furiously on her phone.
She left.
A second later a message popped up.
Shannon Wurther 5/21 10:21 p.m.
She wouldn’t do that
Daisy Yuen 5/21 10:21 p.m.
Ive been waiting for her for ten minutes
Shannon Wurther 5/21 10:22 p.m.
I’ll text her
Daisy Yuen 5/21 10:23 p.m.
DO NOT
Shannon stopped typing.
Had the night gone that horribly?
Daisy stood against the side of the ice cream shop with one boot propped against the wall and head tipped up, staring at the night sky. Across the street, Laguna Beach Canvas & Sculpt slumbered peacefully. She smirked at the newly installed security cameras that jutted from the wall and pointed at the back door.
Five minutes went by, and her phone didn’t ring. She gripped it hard, shoved it in her small, black, cat-head-shaped purse, and headed into the shop.
If Chelsea was going to stand her up for the last portion of their first date, Daisy was going to buy herself ice cream. She dug her nails into her palm and clutched the edge of the cardboard pizza box. If this was how Chelsea wanted to start things, so be it. If this was her statement, her realization, her bow-out, Daisy had to deal with that.
“Matcha, please,” Daisy said to the young man behind the counter, “with sprinkles.”
She paid for her ice cream, took the cone, and walked back into the warm late-spring night. Teenagers played on the beach despite the darkness, a couple held hands as they left the theater, and Daisy saw a group of friends sharing the booth by the window at the diner. That used to be their booth, she thought. The one Aiden, Vance, and Jonathon used to occupy with her every day after school.
Her boots thudded against the street as she jogged across the crosswalk to Main beach.
She’d met Jonathan here, who introduced her to Vance, who introduced her to Aiden.
She’d had her first kiss on the stairs of the lifeguard tower when she was fifteen. She’d told Aiden about it the next day while they lay on the sand and shared a joint under one of the volleyball nets.
Laguna Beach was a town riddled with ghosts that kept coming back to haunt her.
“Daisy…”
She didn’t turn around for Chelsea. Her hip rested against the back of a stone bench, and she looked at the moon, glowing against black waves. She sucked sprinkles off the top of her ice cream cone.
“I’ve been sitting in my car,” Chelsea said. Her voice trembled, and Daisy heard the pop of her knuckles. “I don’t know why. I just couldn’t… I didn’t mean to make you wait, I didn’t exactly know what to do and I—”
“It was ice cream, Chelsea, not a marriage proposal. Were you going to drive away?”
Daisy’s phone kept going off in her purse. Only one person would be that persistent.
“No,” Chelsea snarled. “I just needed to think.”
“You asked me to go to dinner with you, remember?”
“I remember.”
Daisy nodded.
“I don’t know what I’m doin’ here, all right? It’s supposed to be instantaneous. We’re supposed to fall in love, and be happy, and there’s all these expectations… I just needed a minute to think about what comes next.”
“Ice cream came next!” Daisy’s laugh was sharp and brittle. Gripping the pizza box in one hand and her ice cream cone in other, she turned toward Chelsea. She felt utterly alone, even with Chelsea’s wide, aqua eyes staring back at her. “We don’t have to go by some set of rules, or live up to the golden Camellia Clock standard, Chelsea. We can just be friends, like you said, and we can make this work. You can’t expect everything to just fall into place.”
“I don’t want to be friends,” Chelsea snapped impatiently.
“Well, that’s too bad! It’s not like you’re gonna have any if you keep leaving them stranded at an ice cream shop, looking like a fool, waiting for you to get your shit together. You don’t want to be friends? Do you think about anyone but yourself, ever? What, you think you get to go sit in your car and almost drive away—”
“I wasn’t going to drive away,” Chelsea said, anger biting at the edges of her words.
“You’re a good liar, but you’re not that good. I’m going home.”
“Daisy, wait, c’mon now.” Chelsea rolled her eyes. Her hand flexed, jerked, but stilled, as if she’d wanted to reach for Daisy and reconsidered. The invisible boundaries between the two of them were red hot. She chewed on the words before they came out forced and angry, “I’m sorry!”
“You should be.” Her teeth clicked. She shoved the ice cream at her mouth to keep Chelsea f
rom seeing the distinct shake of her bottom lip.
When Daisy brushed past Chelsea, she caught sight of her face, where shock and exhaustion and confusion battled under a cold, tense glare. It was the coffee-cup expression turned inside out, the same and different, desperation hidden under a practiced calm.
She walked up the street toward the apartment three blocks away, listening to the ocean, and hoping to hear the click of Chelsea’s heels chase after her. The sound never came, and soon she was far enough away that it didn’t matter. She didn’t look over her shoulder to see if Chelsea was still standing there, watching her go.
A shadow manifested from behind a tree and fell in step beside her. Wolfish eyes traced her face; his presence was a familiar comfort.
“I don’t need you to come find me when I don’t answer my phone.” Daisy licked her ice cream and stared straight ahead at the next stoplight; she refused to acknowledge how she felt, or how she looked, or how embarrassed she was.
Aiden sighed through his nose. “Yeah, I know.” He flicked a tear off her cheek before his hand dropped to her ice cream. He gathered a glob of the green dessert on his finger and stuck it in his mouth. “She’s an asshole.”
Daisy rolled her eyes and sniffed, hoping she didn’t sound as upset as she actually was. “Aren’t we all.”
“You should probably tell her.”
“Tell her what?”
Aiden bumped his shoulder against hers. “That you’re demi.”
“You didn’t tell Shannon that you’re pansexual,” Daisy said matter-of-factly.
“I didn’t need to. And you don’t need to tell Chelsea either, but it might help her understand you a little better.”
“Are you saying I’m complicated?” Daisy teased.
Aiden stole another lick of her ice cream cone. “You and I both.”
Shannon’s voice came through the speaker on Chelsea’s cell phone, which sat on top of her dash as she sulked in her car.
“You’re an idiot,” Shannon said.
“You think I don’t know that? Thanks for the help.”
“She left?”
“Yes! Your boyfriend was up the street waitin’ for her!”
“And you just let her go? You just let her walk away?” Shannon’s irritation matched Chelsea’s. “I told Aiden what happened, because Daisy had been texting me about it when I dropped him off.”
“Well, thanks a lot, Shannon.”
“I told him not to go.”
“He listens real well.”
“It’s not like I can train him, Chels,” Shannon hissed. “You should text her.”
“And say what?”
“That you’re sorry, that you want to work on this, that you want to see her, I don’t know, Chelsea. Say something!”
“I think I hurt her feelings.”
“You did,” Shannon assured. “You left her out there by herself waiting for you for how long?”
“Twenty minutes,” Chelsea said softly.
Shannon heaved a sigh on the other end of the phone.
“I’ll text her,” Chelsea decided. She nodded and drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. “We still goin’ to that concert next weekend?”
“The one in Irvine?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“As far as I know, yes, but you should clear things up with Daisy first.”
Chelsea exhaled a deep breath. “I know.”
“Goodnight, Chels,” Shannon said. “Call me if you need to, all right?”
“Yeah, all right, goodnight.”
The call ended. Chelsea glanced at her phone and saw five message alerts, but didn’t have the courage to read them. Her mind tried to wrap around every statement, every shared look, and every passing bit of playfulness of the last three hours: onion rings, dinner, Daisy’s collarbones, boys being idiots, pizza. Daisy’s mouth, Cutthroat, more onion rings, Daisy’s eyes.
When Chelsea had said she didn’t want to be friends, she’d meant it.
Her phone buzzed again. Chelsea reached for it, hesitated, and then grabbed it from above the stereo.
Aiden Maar 5/22 12:53 a.m.
If you were a guy I would punch you in the face
Chelsea rolled her eyes.
Aiden Maar 5/22 12:54 a.m.
Kidding. She’s just sensitive. Give her time.
Chelsea clicked on the next unread message.
Shannon Wurther 5/22 12:50 a.m.
Have you thought about letting her call the shots? Best advice I ever got.
The next three messages were attached to the same text bubble.
Chelsea’s thumb hovered over Daisy’s name. She saw the beginning of the first text. It started with hey, look…
But she didn’t have the heart or the fortitude or the patience to look. She didn’t want to juggle a bunch of empty excuses for what had happened tonight. She didn’t want to talk about how they would work through it—that this was normal, and they just needed to give themselves time. Time, time, time.
Chelsea Cavanaugh had waited twenty-five years for this. She’d done her waiting. She’d gone to the preparation conference. She’d imagined her eyes lighting up at the sight of her partner, her heart fluttering, every fairytale ending making sense.
That wasn’t what happened. That wasn’t going to happen. Time had never been on her side.
She tapped on the unread messages.
Daisy Yuen 5/22 12:59 a.m.
Hey, look…
Daisy Yuen 5/22 1:00 a.m.
I know this is hard, okay? I wasn’t expecting what happened to happen either. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how the fuck to talk to you. I just know that I want to. I know that you’re a great person, and you’re Shannon’s best friend, and you’re sweet when you want to be. I know that we were friends a week ago, and I know sometimes things happen that we don’t understand, but we can be friends now even if what comes after it is still up in the air.
Chelsea scrolled down to the last message.
Daisy Yuen 5/22 1:03 a.m.
Right now friendship is all I can give you. I can’t make myself understand this any faster. I wish I could, but I can’t.
Chelsea read the last message four times. The first time made her angry. The second time stung. The third time made sense. And the fourth time hurt and hurt and hurt.
She clicked off Daisy’s name and pressed on Aiden’s.
When was your first kiss with Shannon?
She knew the answer, but hit send anyway.
Aiden immediately responded with: The night we met.
Chelsea Cavanaugh 5/22 1:05 a.m.
Should I kiss her then?
Aiden Maar 5/22 1:06 a.m.
Our first kiss wasnt awesome. it kinda made things worse for us.
Chelsea Cavanaugh 5/21 1:07 a.m.
I want to make this work and I don’t know how.
Aiden started typing and stopped. Started again and stopped again.
Aiden Maar 5/22 1:10 a.m.
Shannon and I fake hated each other at first. We were a fucking mess. Dont be like us. Be there for her and it will happen when it’s supposed to. It took a month for me and shannon to get our shit together. Even then we werent awesome. We still aren’t sometimes. But I love him anyway.
Chelsea sighed and read Aiden’s text over and over.
She decided not to send anything back and clicked on Daisy’s name.
She typed out: I was prepared to fall in love. Erased it.
I wanted to find my someone so bad. Erased it.
You’re nothing like him. She meant Shannon. She meant her father. Erased it.
I’m scared to death. Erased it.
I was not prepared for you. Erased it.
Chelsea Cavanaugh 5/22 1:15 a.m.
I owe you ice cream, Miss Daisy.
Daisy Yuen 5/22 1:16 a.m.
You sure do, Charm School.
9
Chelsea Cavanaugh 5/23 11:56 p.m.
Do you think people change when they leave a place they’ve always known? I feel like I don’t recognize myself sometimes. Like I left pieces of me at home.
Daisy Yuen 5/23 11:57 p.m.
Yes. I feel like I left part of me here, unfinished, and now that I’m back I have to reconcile with those bits of myself. It’s complicated. Do you want to go back for the part of you that you left behind?
Chelsea Cavanaugh 5/23 12:00 a.m.
No. Sometimes. I don’t know, actually. Is it strange seeing those parts of you again? Being back in Laguna?
Daisy Yuen 5/23 12:03 a.m.
Sometimes it feels like I’m haunted. Sometimes it feels like I’m home.
Daisy Yuen 5/25 2:01 a.m.
Please be awake
Chelsea Cavanaugh 5/25 2:07 a.m.
I’m awake. talk to me.
Chelsea Cavanaugh 5/26 11:08 a.m.
I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. Things are crazy at the hospital and I’m still trying to find my way around town.
Chelsea Cavanaugh 5/26 11:12 a.m.
I want to see you though. Soon. For ice cream.
Daisy Yuen 5/26 11:13 a.m.
I guess I can come out for ice cream ;)
Chelsea Cavanaugh 5/27 1:05 a.m.
How do you get rid of nightmares?
Daisy Yuen 5/27 1:06 a.m.
I smoke a joint and try to go back to sleep. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Are you okay?
Daisy Yuen 5/27 1:07 a.m.
I just realized you don’t smoke weed. Sorry. Maybe try meditating for a little bit? Hot shower? Warm tea?
Chelsea Cavanaugh 5/27 21:08 a.m.
I’ll try the tea, darling.
Daisy Yuen 5/29 12:30 a.m.
I’ll see you at the concert, right?
Chelsea Cavanaugh 5/29 12:33 a.m.
Yes, of course you will. Goodnight.
10
Daisy woke in a panic.
Sweat pooled in her palms. Her heartbeat ricocheted off her bones. Adrenaline coursed through her like a tidal wave. She gasped, scrabbling for her throat, where she could’ve sworn a pair of hands had been wrapped moments ago.
Curved Horizon Page 6
