Page 182 of Built to Fall
“You look good.” She nods once I’m done.
My arm reaches around her waist, my hand grazing the bare skin of her back. “You look better.”
The black silk dress she has on makes it hard for me to form full sentences. Coupled with the loose curls she put in her hair, she’s glowing in a euphoric, hard-won kind of way.
Savannah steps in the bathroom at the same time, gripping her phone in her hand. She’s still looking at her phone when she asks, “Grant, you’re still riding with B, aren’t you?”
I nod. We can’t all ride together because there are different entrances for backstage and general admission. To make the models feel more comfortable, no men are allowed through the backstage entrance.
Savannah obviously has to be backstage to get mic’d and get everything set up before the show, and she wants Lina to go with her.
Hence why Braxton and I are driving separately.
“Well, he’s waiting downstairs. He has to stop and get gas, so you guys have to leave like…now.”
“Of course he does,” I mutter.
I grab my suit jacket off the dresser and look at Lina, who’s now sitting on the bed, putting on her heels like we’re not in a time crunch. They have to leave soon too. “I’ll see you there?”
She looks up at me with a soft smile, the kind that instantly slows everything down. “I’ll be backstage, giving all my emotional support.” Her face skews, like she’s aware she’s the worst person for the job.
It makes me smile, and I quickly kiss her on the cheek so as not to disturb her too much.
“Go.” She shoves my shoulder once she’s done buckling her heel. “You’re going to be late.”
“I’ll save you a seat,” I tell her as I leave the room.
* * *
“Let’s go, Project Runway!” Braxton yells through his rolled-down passenger window. “We’re going to be late!”
I roll my eyes, getting in the car and putting my seatbelt on as he speeds off the curb. “You’re the dumbass who forgot to get gas.”
“I know, I know. It slipped my mind,” he groans, lifting one hand off the steering wheel and running it over his face. “Do you know how much shit I would be in if I were late to this thing?”
“Man, your parents don’t give a fuck what you do. They’d probably still shit on Savannah more.”
He winces because he knows it’s true.
Savannah and Braxton’s parents may have had them at the same time, but they raised them like they were born in different centuries. Braxton was given free rein—pretty much allowed to do whatever he wanted. Savannah, though, was held on a tight leash.
“Still. This is Savannah’s thing. I want to be there.”
“I get it. We still have twenty minutes before the doors open, so we should have time.”
Once we stop at the nearest gas station, where Braxton fills his tank faster than he probably ever has before, we’re back on the road.
We barely make it two blocks from the gas station when my phone starts buzzing in my hand, Lina’s name flashing across the screen.
I answer immediately. “Hey, what’s?—”
“Grant.” Her voice is tense and panicked, which of course has me automatically assuming the worst. “You need to find Meredith the second you get there. You and Braxton. You guys need to find her.”
“What?” I sit up straighter, and Lina must be talking loud enough for Braxton to hear, because he keeps glancing over in concern. “Slow down, Eva. What the hell’s going on?”
“There’s a newNotes of New Havenarticle. It’s about her.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “They’re saying she has an eating disorder. Aneating disorder,Grant. Some anonymous writer is posing as someone who is concerned for her, but the article is completely ripping her apart.”
Braxton’s knuckles go white on the wheel, and I know he knows something I don’t.
