Problematic Summer Romance (Not in Love, #2)(41)
Rue smiles. “No, they aren’t. They are more like siblings.”
Nyota says nothing. But the second Rue and Tisha are distracted, she whispers at me:
I told you so.
5 days before the wedding
Chapter 17
The morning of the third day, I wake up at 6:00 a.m.—way too early, especially considering that I was up with Rue, Tisha, and Nyota until nearly midnight, talking about…there was a lot of Nyota educating us on exchange-traded funds. She also tried to rip her bedside drawer out of its hinges with her bare teeth when we admitted that none of us have an investment strategy.
I should try to sleep longer, get accustomed to the new time zone, but staring at the ceiling and overthinking sounds unappealing. I put on a swimsuit and head for the pool, walking barefoot down the marble stairs and through the lemon grove, enjoying the gentle caress of the light on my face. The villa and its grounds are quiet, not a single soul in sight except for me, the birds, and the silent outline of Mount Etna. Before I dive in, I realize that I forgot to grab a towel, but I’m too lazy to go back upstairs. I swim a few relaxed laps to warm up, then a few more. Savor the way the water makes demands on my body without pushing it to its limits. Focus on counting the strokes, and I’m never left truly alone with my own thoughts.
I stop when my muscles begin to groan. Then I float on the water’s surface, letting my body cool down, taking in the sounds of the house as it begins to awake. Shutters creaking open. Metal and porcelain clanking together in the kitchen. A handful of people laughing down below, past the cliff, and the soft echo of church bells in the distance. The rhythm of the waves. After ten minutes, when the tips of my fingers grow raisin-like and cold shivers run down my spine, I force myself to get out of the water.
On the edge of the pool there is a clean, neatly folded towel.
* * *
The breakfast room is at full capacity, the table as richly loaded as yesterday morning—except this time there’s a dozen of us eating.
“Nice to see that people are recovering,” I say, pouring myself some freshly squeezed orange juice.
“I don’t know.” Tamryn shrugs. “I miss feeling one with the plumbing system. The sense of belonging that came with it.”
“Really made me reconnect with my spirituality,” Nyota agrees.
I sneak a piece of bread to Tiny and wait for my breakfast, taking in the various conversations flowing around me. It’s a first, seeing the entire wedding party together in the light, and I cannot help noticing that these twelve disparate people Rue and Eli put together, all seem to get along.
More than that: they like each other. Paul is showing Avery pictures of his garden; Diego, Minami, and Sul are bonding over a video game that involves elf-fucking. Rue laughs with Tisha, and does not look like she’d rather be elsewhere.
“What are you thinking?” Nyota asks me, slathering a fresh croissant with butter.
“Not much. Just having a bit of a take-stock-of-your-life moment.”
“How so?”
“I was thinking that if I were to get married tomorrow, I wouldn’t have this many friends to invite.”
Tamryn laughs. “I bet you have tons of friends.”
Maybe, by certain metrics. I’m not shy or introverted. But I lost most of my college friend group when I refused to be more gracious about Alfie and Georgia, and while I’ll never stop missing Rose, I’ve come to accept that our falling-out was inevitable. When I returned to Austin I reconnected with high school friends, and I love them dearly, but in the years I was gone we grew in different directions. The one person I can always count on is Jade. We’ve been close since our figure-skating days, and even though we fell off while I was in Edinburgh, she never seems to hold it against me. Sometimes we fight, but we always get over ourselves. She is what Minami and Conor are for Eli: My ride or die. The one I’d do an airport run for. The one I’d drop everything for if she asked me to be there, whether it’s to help her bury a body, or to be her witness when she elopes with…a toadstool, probably.
She’s a weirdo, but she’s my weirdo.
“Aren’t you surrounded by hot physics nerds of all genders?” Nyota asks. “I like to picture you kids having fun. Doing lines. Playing D&D until dawn.”
Tamryn seems interested. “What are physicists like? Do they wear several layers of T-shirts?”
“Sometimes. And they’re…” I cast a glance around the room, looking for a good descriptor. Conor is near the entrance, talking with Eli in low tones. My brother’s hand is on his shoulder. They’re both smiling.
Nyota’s eyebrow lifts. “Pleasant? Sex gods? Smelly?”
“Very competitive. Driven. Know exactly what they want.”
“So do you, Miss Young Investigator Award.”
My laugh comes out a little stilted. “Do you never have doubts, Ny? About your professional choice? Being a fancy lawyer?”
“Nah. I’m way too good at it.” She points her knife at me. “Listen, choose MIT. Come to Boston. You’d be an obnoxiously close train ride to New York and to me. We’d hang out every weekend. Being spotted with an academic would considerably lower my social cachet, but I’d take the hit for you.”