“Since Ass travels so much for work, we binge a lot of shows without her and then play dumb when she gets home.” Lyla extended her finger to point to every person in the room. “We all took the Netflix roommate oath and now that you’re a bona fide roommate, you have to take it too. Repeat after me, ‘I solemnly swear to fake all my reactions as if I were experiencing the show for the first time and never unintentionally reveal a spoiler.’”
I held up my right hand and stifled a giggle with the other. “I solemnly swear to fake all my reactions as if I were experiencing the show for the first time and never unintentionally reveal a spoiler.”
“Good. Now please, someone take that thing away from Oak, she’s gonna sand her fingers down to nubs if she keeps stress filing!” Lyla shouted from the farthest spot on the couch as I made my way into the room.
Oak gestured with the file to the box of wine tipped delicately over the kitchen sink. “Av, grab a glass and come sit and watch Love Island with us. It’s our very finest cardbordeaux.”
Sevyn added, “You’re gonna need more than just one glass to keep up with all this drama. Gemma’s about to make the biggest mistake . . .”
“OF . . . HER . . . LIFE!” the three of them hollered through bursts of laughter, as if they’d been practicing it all night. （Which I was certain they had.）
I poured myself a mugful of the red blend and settled onto the couch with them. I tucked my legs underneath me and gestured to the TV. “So, what’s happening here? I’ve never seen this show.”
Lyla rested Hank on the coffee table, grabbed the remote to hit the pause button, and turned to me, her face serious and focused. “Okay, on day one, the contestants couple up based on first impressions, but then later, they have the option to re-couple. Tonight’s a big night. Gemma needs to decide if she is going to stay with that wanker Colin, who’s been cheating on her with Natalie, or swap for Angus, who’s been pining for her since they got to the island.”
“The choice is so stupidly obvious,” Sevyn said.
I reeled around on her and snapped far more harshly than I’d intended, “Is it? Maybe she doesn’t know what to do. Maybe she’s conflicted even though the choice does seem stupidly obvious. Maybe she doesn’t want to choose, why can’t she just have both?”
Oak, confused by my question, tried to explain. “Well, ’cause she’s paired up with Colin. And you know, what’s that expression, ‘One in the hand beats two in the bush.’”
Sevyn, without missing a beat, chimed in, “True . . . unless she wants two in her bush!”
Oak paused her stress-filing to grab one of the decorative pillows and chuck it at Sevyn. “That’s not what that means!”
Over the sound of Sevyn snorting through her fits of laughter, Lyla rolled her eyes and said, “Ignore them. We pretty much lose our minds when we watch Love Island. And besides, she can’t choose both, the show doesn’t really work that way.”
I responded under my breath, perhaps more to myself than to her, “Well, it’d be so much easier if it did.”
Lyla narrowed her eyes and hit pause on the remote. “Avery, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
Hesitating for a moment, I set my mug of wine down on the coffee table and blurted out, “Gabe proposed to me tonight.”
“What?!” they all cried out in almost perfect unison.
Sevyn motioned to my left hand. “C’mon girl, let’s see that bling-bling.”
“No”—I shielded my hand, tucking it in the other, and rubbing my knuckles anxiously—“I didn’t take the bling-bling.”
“You didn’t take the bling-bling?!” Sevyn said, her eyes practically bulging out of her head.
Lyla parroted back with a justifiable amount of sass. “She didn’t take the bling-bling!”
Oak scooted to the edge of the couch. “Why? Why didn’t you take the bling? I mean, the ring?” She sucked air through her teeth and grimaced. “Was it heinous?”
“No. God, no. It was beautiful.” Channeling the swept-off-my-feet exuberance of a lovestruck teenager, I threw myself back into the deflated couch cushions, recalling the feeling of the ring on my finger and the hopeful look in Gabe’s expression when he popped the question.
“So then what happened?” Lyla asked, reaching for Hank, who was slowly but surely making his way across the coffee table, and setting him back in her lap.
“He proposed and then dropped the bombshell that he’s moving to Washington, DC, for his dream job. He wants me to go with him.” I looked up and into their enthralled faces, eyes wide and mouths dropped even wider. “I should have just said yes, right? Gabe, my Gabe, wants to marry me and make a life with me. Why didn’t I just say yes?”
“Well, why didn’t you?” Sevyn asked, as if the answer was as obvious as the question.
“I don’t know. Everything about it seems . . . right. And yet, there’s something that just feels off. Maybe it hasn’t been long enough yet?”
“Haven’t you known the guy for like almost a decade?” Oak asked. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I figured when you know you like, know. And if you don’t know after this much time, maybe that’s all you need to know . . .”
“No, it’s not like that. I do love him and I do see a future with him. I just . . .” I grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl in Sevyn’s lap and shoved it in my mouth, chewing animatedly to buy myself a moment to sort out my thoughts. But try as I might, I couldn’t make sense of any of it. I swallowed and said, “The phone booth brought me to him. It led me to his damn door. If I’m not meant to end up with him, whether it’s in DC or Timbuktu, then I don’t know what any of this was for!”
Oak crooked a brow and leaned toward me. “Yeah, but didn’t the booth also lead you to your audition for Marley Is Dead? So I think there may be a hole in your theory.”
I spat out, “Orrrr, maybe it was just showing me how grueling and uncertain my life as a performer would be. Weeks of prep for a role I may not even get, and then I start again at square one, back at the bottom, singing for tips at Mimi’s. Maybe all of this was meant to tell me that a life with Gabe would be the best option in the end. A sure thing. Happiness wrapped up in a big red bow. It has to be that. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.”
Lyla, thoughtfully observing the exchange, chimed in and said, “I think you’re onto something there. Can I be brutally honest with you?” Lyla continued without waiting for my response. “You might get the role of Marley on Tuesday, but it’s even more likely you won’t. This industry can be a cruel and unforgiving slog, believe me, I know. I’m right there in the trenches with you singing for my supper. It’s rejection after rejection. But you . . . you have a real shot at happiness with Gabe. I guess what I’m saying is that it’s okay to get off the ride, Avery. Nobody will think any less of you if you decide to get off.”
“No! I got off the ride once, and I don’t want to do it again. This audition is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. How am I supposed to walk away now? Don’t I have to at least know how the story ends?”