Page 119 of The Other Side of Paradise
Ryan gave me a skeptical once-over. “Huh… sure. I don’t think she’s that special.”
I laughed. Allison snorted. “I’ll fight you,” she said.
“You know,” I said, “two weeks will be done in no time, and you’ll be back here doing your writeups while your girlfriend brings you drinks.”
She paused. “I’m glad you took my side,” she said. “You know, back when everything happened. This whole thing would have worked out very differently if you hadn’t.”
I slipped a hand to Allison’s back, who softened into my side with that tiny, blissfully happy noise she did. “Worked out well for us both,” I laughed. “You and BB are good together. And Oscar’s just happy he has less family close to him.”
“Mom and Dad were both livid Oscar refused to come out here with me once I’m back,” she said. “I stuck up for him, said he was focused on work…”
“Taking your twin’s side even if you’re a fake one,” I said. “I look forward to harassing all of you in two weeks. And putting Allison on the spot. She’s never really properly met Mom, so…”
Ryan smiled sweetly at her. “Oh, she’ll be normal about that.”
“Uh-huh,” Allison said. “I have this paranormal super-sense that maybe you’re being sarcastic.”
Brooklyn’s voice called from behind, and I looked back at where she came up the side path that ran through the bushes as a shortcut between our houses, a hand raised high. “Didn’t tell me all those parties you were planning were starting already,” she said.
Ryan positively glowed seeing Brooklyn coming, like a total dork. I thought maybe it would wear off after a couple weeks, but I was starting to think maybe she’d be that kind of sappy in-love loser forever. Even if they still hadn’t dropped the L-bomb yet. A million dollars said they would after Ryan’s long, heartbreaking absence of two entire weeks, and then they’d be gushingI love youcuteness every two seconds like the pair of losers they were. “Tried to just drop off the gift like I told you I would,” she said. “Got distracted picking on Allison.”
“Very understandable.” Brooklyn came up to her side and kissed the side of her head. I stepped back, drawing my shoulders up higher.
“Well, see you at the airport bright and early tomorrow morning,” I said. “I don’t envy you flying that early. Until then, have fun fucking on the terrace or whatever you freaks do.”
Brooklyn smiled evenly, but the flicker in Ryan’s expression gave away that I’d hit close to home. Exhibitionism… guess that figured. You didn’t put your personal writing out on the internet unless you were a little freaky. “We’ll give you none of the updates,” Brooklyn said lightly. “Enjoy your workshop, you two.”
I waited until Allison and I got inside, Allison taking off her shoes and dropping her bag on the couch, before I said, “Did you know they did that?”
“Did what?” she said, looking up from where she was bent over untying her shoelaces, and she snorted loudly when I said,
“Fucked on the terrace.”
“Uh—nope. I don’t spend a lot of time looking when I’m wandering over there. And now I definitely won’t.”
I laughed, dropping the box on the table, its coarse wood familiar under my fingers, feeling like breakfasts and dinners here alongside Allison. “I can’t believe Ryan of all people is into freaky stuff. Whatever. Let’s open this parting gift.”
She pulled up a chair on the other side of the table, perching on the front edge as I ripped open the paper and opened a blank cardboard box to find a set of paints and brushes, along with a porcelain palette, the kind Allison liked. Allison laughed, picking up one of the brushes from the box, turning it to read the brand labeling on the front. “Oh, wow,” she said. “She didn’t hold back with this stuff.”
I softened, picking them out of the box and arranging them on the table. “What a dork,” I said with a thick feeling in my throat. The message was perfectly clear—now with my own set, I wouldn’t have to mooch off of Allison’s stuff all the time. We could both be painters here—equals instead of me as a guest in her place. And with the timing—right before we were scheduled to run our first volunteer workshop together, helping teach a bunch of tourists and workshop regulars some painting techniques and figure studying, it was Ryan’s quiet vote of confidence. Telling me without saying a wordyou’re really doing it now, it’s going to go great.
“So much for graphic design,” Allison laughed. “Looks like I have company in dragging you to the dark side of traditional media.”
“I mean, get you a girl who can do both.” I stopped when I pulled out a smaller box, this one with a note sayingfor Allison.“You got something too,” I said, sliding it to her. “Just saying, my present is, like, ten times the size of yours.”
“I’ll try not to take it personally.” She opened the box, and she let out a small breath as she pulled out a small tube of acrylic paint. “Oh, shit.”
“Ooh, paint. Generic gift for a painter.”
“This is quinacridone gold. I’ve always wanted something like this, but I wouldn’t in a million years have justified the price with…” She held it up to the light, turning it over excitedly in her hands. “How did she even know? Does she paint?”
“Nah… she’s just nosy. Always picking up on things she has no reason to. Guess that’s why she had to go become a journalist instead.”
She laughed, and I saw a little pink blush spill out over the tops of her cheeks, looking just past me. “Cool… damn. Now I owe her one.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“What—nothing.” She blushed harder, putting the paint down and busying herself with the box. “Well, that’s a cool present. Tell her I said thanks. I mean, I have her number, I’ll tell her I said thanks. For both of us. I mean, you can tell her you said thanks, for yourself.”
