“I used to want children,” Braithe said. “I always thought I’d have three: a boy and twin girls. I wanted to name the girls Juniper and Orla, isn’t that funny?”
“Those are pretty names,” Mac said. “What about the little boy?”
“He’d have his dad’s name.”
Everyone fell silent, imagining a little Stephen with tight curls and dimples and waiting for Braithe to tell them why it never happened. But Braithe didn’t explain. She reached for the ice bucket. Her hand emerged and she curled her knee up to her chest and wrapped her arm around it to read the slip. She absently fingered the ends of her hair, her mouth moving as she read. Three to go, Rainy thought. Would she have to lie? If Ursa asked the first question, and Mac the second. That left her own, Tara’s and Braithe’s questions unanswered. She’d already decided that she wanted to be the last one to go. That way, she could make her answer short and sweet and end this game.
“Are you going to read it or not, Braithe?” Rainy wasn’t the only one watching her. To her right, Tara was smirking at Braithe. “Let’s hear it.” Tara nudged Braithe’s shoulder with her toe. “I’m getting bored with this, fast.”
“Well, I’m down to be done.” Braithe crumpled the slip in her fist and made to toss it away.
“No way, everyone has a turn. I’ll read it for you.” She wrestled the paper from Braithe’s grasp with a triumphant smile and, with the slip in her possession, Tara began to read silently, ignoring Braithe’s protests. When she saw the question, Tara exclaimed, “Yass, girl.”
“Ohhh, why doesn’t she want to answer her BFF’s question?” Ursa was sitting on a chair behind Mac. She’d retrieved her curling wand and was sectioning off the brunette’s hair.
“Because she’s being rude,” Braithe said, giving Tara a look. But instead of continuing to fight with Tara, she let her read it.
“Who was your first true love? Describe them.”
Rainy sat up a little straighter; that wasn’t Tara’s question, it was hers, but for some reason, Braithe had thought her best friend had written it. Why?
“He was, like, so handsome,” Braithe said to the room.
“Stephen is still handsome!” Ursa called from behind a piece of Mac’s hair.
“Just real easy to be around, you know?”
And now it seemed to Rainy that Braithe was talking to herself more than any of them.
“We were just around each other and it was this energy, like putting spit to pop rocks.”
“Oh, ew,” Tara laughed. “Can you not wax poetic about bodily fluids?”
“So you…popped?” Mac asked, clearly unsure of herself. Her eyes were still red from crying, but thanks to Ursa, she was starting to look like…Ursa. Waves framed her face, easing some roundness into her square jaw; with a little bronzer and wet lips, she’d be set for the twinsie life.
“We popped and we meshed, and he was this perfect combination of Chandler from Friends and that guy from The Notebook. Like, superfunny and snarky and comfortable with his obsession with me. We were obsessed with each other—”
“What’s The Notebook?” Mac asked. But no one answered her; they were waiting for Braithe to keep talking. Now that she’s going she’s really going, Rainy thought. But this was her favorite topic, even if she was hesitant to admit it: love.
“And he’d do this thing where he’d rub little circles on my palm to tell me he wanted me, and like, wherever we were he’d do that and we’d just go running out like—”
“Two horny kids?” Rainy finished for her.
“Yeah,” she said, and her mouth curled up in a secret pleasure as she traced over her memories in front of them.
“Um, so are you not talking about Stephen?” Mac’s face was genuinely confused.
“Have you ever loved anyone other than Bryan? Hush,” Tara said, but not unkindly; Mac was like everyone’s little sister.
“I’m more of a Christian Grey fan myself,” Ursa said. “I need you to spank me, not read me stories in a nursing home.”
“Your turn,” Braithe said as she pushed the ice bucket toward Ursa, who was finished with Mac’s hair.
Ursa reached in, her hand, with its candy-colored nails, drawing out the second-to-last question. Rainy watched her eyes scan the paper and widen considerably. When she read it out loud for the rest of them, she was trying not to laugh.