Page 73 of You're So Vine
Minimum viable answer. Risky move.
But Chiara’s obviously feeling merciful.
“Glad to hear it,” she says. “Keep on doing the right thing now.”
From anyone else, that would sound like encouragement. From Chiara, it has an undertone of menace. I have no idea what she does with her life other than work reception at Bartons hotel. International jewel thief? Head of KAOS or SPECTRE?
Whatever, she could not be more different from Shelby’s other best friend, Jordan. Where Chiara is dark and elegantly spiky, Jordan is all blonde, tanned bounce. Nate once described her to me as having the personality of a pile of Labrador puppies in the body of a 1950s pin-up. She can also drink like she’s competing for the World Beer Pong Championship. I like her very much.
“These guys just told me that you fainted at the wedding!” Jordan says to me. “Are you okay?”
“There was a whole ambulance crew in the barn, bae,” says Chiara. “Ava got carried away on a stretcher. How could you have missed that?”
Jordan blinks, accessing memory data files. “I was … dancing?”
“Who with?”
“Javi’s cousin,” says Shelby. “You know, the one who’s the underwear model?”
“How can you know this when Jordan doesn’t?” Nate asks a very fair question.
“Probably had my eyes closed,” says Jordan.
“You didn’t want to look at the underwear model?” I inquire.
“I let the music take control,” says Jordan. “You know? Like the song?”
We all stare. Her shoulders do an embarrassed little shimmy.
“Don’t at me,” she says. “I’m a very tactile person.”
Ever practical, Nate brings us back on track. “Jordan’s key question was: is Ava okay?” He stares hard at me. “Are you? How was today?”
I’d prefer never to think of it or mention it again. But unlike Chiara, Nate won’t let me get away with a one-word answer.
“Ever had an MRI?” I ask them.
Group-wide shaking of heads.
“My advice? Try to avoid it. Unless you like being trapped in a narrow tube and forced not to move or swallow.”
“You can’t swallow?” says Nate.
“Not when the machine’s on. They do give you a panic button to squeeze, though, so they’re not completely heartless.”
“I don’t mind tight spaces,” says Jordan. “But I hate keeping still—”
Relentless Nate steers the conversation back to me. “And what did the MRI show?”
I shrug. “Got to wait until they review the scans.”
“Doc Wilson will call tomorrow,” Cam chimes in unexpectedly. “And then we’ll call you.”
Wow, assertive.
He places his arm around my shoulders. And protective. I like it.
Nate likes it not one bit. “Okay, but surely they—”
