Page 185 of Built to Fall
It’s not a huge deal. I just wouldn’t want to take away her spotlight because I accidentally flashed someone’s grandma in the front row.
“No, you’ll be good.” She waves me off. “I’m sure Grant will love it.”
“Not my number one concern right now, Sav.” I snort, grabbing my purse.
She grins anyway. “Doesn’t mean it’s not a bonus!”
I feel a lot better about leaving her backstage now that the nerves have started to lessen from her eyes.
“Find me afterward,” I tell her, wrapping her in a quick hug when the stage director yells a two-minute warning. “You’re going to kill it.”
She gets pulled away, already nodding at someone calling her name, and I slip through the curtain toward the general admission entrance.
It’s everything Savannah would want for her debut fashion show—marble floors, vaulted ceilings, and glittering chandeliers. Rows of chairs surround the catwalk, and behind it is a giant screen projecting differentSavvy by Savannahprojects before the show starts.
The instrumental music thrums through my mind as I scan the rows of seats, looking for where Grant said he’d be saving me one. Thankfully, I spot him and the rest of my friends right as the lights start to dim, casting a soft glow over the catwalk.
Every seat I pass is occupied, and there’s a quiet buzz throughout the room. Rumored whispers. Excited knees bouncing. Cameras are already flashing.
Even as I take my seat next to Grant, noticing Meredith sitting with Braxton a few seats away, I know I did the right thing.
Meredith has what she needs right now.
Grant’s arm automatically wraps around the back of my seat, gripping my shoulder in a possessive way that has his entire hand splaying over my collarbone. His fingertips lightly graze where I’m nearly spilling out of this dress.
That’s when he leans over, eyes dragging over my body even as the lights dim even lower. “You’re lucky there’s a show about to start,” he murmurs in my ear, low enough for only me to hear. “Or else I’d be making a scene.”
I glare at him. “It’s Savannah’s backup dress,” I whisper, once again pulling on the neckline.
He grabs my hand, stopping me. I canfeelhim grinning at me. “Backup for who? A Bond girl?”
“Be serious.” Still, I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting a smile.
“I am.”
Before either of us can say anything else, the music gets louder, and the first model walks onto the runway.
* * *
I’ve never been in this situation before. One where I’ve been forced to ignore someone else’s problem for this long.
Sure, I’m a pro at ignoring my own issues—and I’m horrible at knowing how to approach other people’s emotions—but that doesn’t make me some cold-hearted bitch.
Like everyone else in our friend group, I was forced to sit through Savannah’s fashion show knowing there was a huge problem at hand—knowing one of my best friends has been struggling with something inconceivable.
And all I’ve been thinking is,God, where has my brain been?
Applause rings through the room when Kara is the last model to walk the runway before Savannah comes on the stage, smiling from ear to ear. I watch her grab Kara’s hand as she passes by, pulling her back down to the end of the catwalk.
Hand-in-hand, the twoit girlsof New York City—and Yale—walk the runway together. And there’s no mystery as to why their mothers modeled together for so long. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that by this time tomorrow, a picture of these two, shoulder to shoulder, is going to be one of the most iconic photos circulating.
Everyone is standing while Kara waves for Savannah to bow. It's one of the most heartwarming things I’ve ever seen.
Then, with a hand pressed to her heart, Savannah makes her way back down the stage, the perfect finish to her first-ever fashion show.
Within minutes, people begin flooding out of the room, our friend group included. Savannah already announced when theNotes of New Havenarticle dropped she wasn’t going to stay for the after-party. Not when there’s a pressing issue like this at hand.
On the car ride back, Grant and I ride with Eden, while Meredith goes with Braxton.
