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Can't Look Away(104)

Author:Carola Lovering

On New Year’s Day, it poured rain. Thick gray sheets smacked against the windows of the apartment, and Molly felt so miserable and lonely she almost wished she weren’t alive. Nobody except for her family even knew she was in Brooklyn—she still hadn’t told her friends she’d bailed on Jake, and none of them were in town, anyway. Nina was ringing in 2016 in Vermont with Cash, Everly and Sage were visiting Sage’s sister in D.C., and Hunter was on some romantic vacation in the Bahamas with Blair. Molly realized that she didn’t actually know where Liz was, and without thinking twice, she called her.

“Hey, Molls.” Liz answered on the second ring. Her voice was low, slightly husky.

“Hey. Happy New Year. Where are you?”

“At my apartment, debilitatingly hungover. Aren’t you in Europe?”

“I didn’t go, actually. I’m in the city.”

“Oh.” A beat of silence. “Is everything okay with Jake?”

“Not exactly. Can I come over? I’ll explain. And there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Sure. Bring me ginger ale? I’ll love you for the rest of eternity.”

Molly hung up the phone, relieved. She hadn’t seen Liz one-on-one in months, and they definitely weren’t as close as they used to be, but right now, Liz was everything she needed. Molly suddenly felt ready to talk about what had happened the night of Nina and Cash’s housewarming party. She needed to get it off her chest, needed someone else to bear the weight of it, too, and really, who better than Liz? An old friend, a dose of comfort and pragmatism. Someone who really knew her.

“You got it,” Molly said. “Is Zander there?”

“Nah. He went back to Cleveland for the holidays.”

“Okay. I’ll leave here in a few. See you soon.”

Forty minutes later, Molly rang the buzzer outside Liz’s Greenwich Village apartment. Upstairs, she found Liz splayed on the couch in sweatpants, a bag of frozen peas pressed to her forehead.

“You look exactly like I did the day after Nina and Cash’s housewarming, Lizzie.” Molly removed her raincoat and sank down into the adjacent armchair. She placed a cold can of Canada Dry on the coffee table.

“Lifesaver.” Liz reached for the soda, cracking it open. “That was a dumb party. I still think Cash is such a loser. Don’t tell Nina I said so.” Her eyes lingered on Molly. “You don’t look so good yourself. What’d you get into last night?”

“Nothing. I lay low.”

Liz frowned. “You didn’t go out on New Year’s Eve?”

“No. I was … tired.” Molly glanced out the double window, which had a partial view of Washington Square Park. The rain had mostly stopped.

“This weather is shit,” Liz said, following her gaze.

“Yeah. I wish it would just snow.”

“So what happened with Jake?” Liz sat up on the couch, tucking her knees underneath her. “Why’d you bail on him?”

“We had a fight. I got pissed and canceled my trip.”

Liz eyed her inquiringly. “Must’ve been a pretty bad fight for you to give up a free vacation to Europe. You’ve been wanting to go to Paris for, like, forever, Molls.”

Molly smiled, despite herself. “You sound like my mom.” She sighed. “Jake is just … he’s an awful communicator, Liz. He goes days without calling or texting. He didn’t send my itinerary through until the eleventh hour, and I just … I can’t keep putting up with this shit. Something has to change.”

“Well, good for you for putting him in his place.” Liz pushed her short, dark hair behind her ears, tilted her chin forward. “But yeah, Jake Danner isn’t exactly the world’s most dependable man.”

Liz’s hangover seemed to have vanished; she was suddenly alert and laser-focused, and Molly remembered that this was the way Liz liked things best—when Molly was unsure, afraid, in crisis. This was the state in which their friendship thrived. She’d been too young and ignorant to see it before, but now it was almost comically apparent.

“One sec, I gotta pee.” Liz stood and stretched her arms overhead, revealing her taut, gym-bunny stomach.

As the bathroom door clicked shut, Liz’s phone pinged on the coffee table. Without really thinking, Molly leaned over and checked the screen. It was a text from a number she didn’t recognize—and one that was clearly not saved in Liz’s phone—beginning with a New York City area code.