Page 116 of Backslide
Now, I’m wondering if he was ever in my court at all.
Now, I’m wondering if he has a lingering thing for Nell—or if that thing is really about competing with me. About how I sucked up too much of the limelight for him. About how he felt cheated somehow.
And I’m wondering it while I sit next to him, pretending we’re all good, and clapping as Cara and Ben consummate their un-wedding with a kiss.
In that moment, I am hit like a ton of bricks with the reason why I’ve kept so many of my childhood friends around for so many years, even if I’d outgrown them—the ones like Damien, who my sister, Henny, never trusted: I have unconsciously been trying to hold on to the past, to some small connection to Nell.
As backward as it seems, I know it’s true. And now I don’t need them anymore. Not the ones who take advantage. I don’t needhim.
I’m so happy for Cara and Ben, who seem truly blissed out, but I am suddenly so glad this ceremony is over. I’ve got radioactivity seated on either side of me, and it’s too much to hold.
After the happy couple makes their exit, we all rise and file out toward another area of the tree house for cocktails.
“Drink?” I ask Nell.
She nods. “Drink.”
Before we make it over to the bar, a server comes by with a tray bearing some sort of signature cocktail. It’s orange. There are bubbles. I have no idea what it is, but I don’t care.
I snag two—hand Nell one. And we wander over to where Sabrina and Rita are taking turns on a rope swing.
“I don’t know,” Rita is saying, tugging the rope to test it and eyeing the steel chains at the top suspiciously before sitting down. “I don’t trust this thing.”
“It held me,” says Sabrina.
“Yeah, but you’re not a real-sized person,” Rita says. “You’re a peanut.”
Sabrina sets her hands on her (admittedly narrow) hips. “Short people are people too.”
Rita nods. “Agreed. Just shorter people.”
“Anyway, let’s talk about something more interesting—let’s talk about the FLOOD!” Sabrina says, turning her attention on us. “Was it crazy? I can’t believe you guys got stuck.”
“We didn’t really see the flood,” says Nell, looking up at me for confirmation. “So it wasn’tthatcrazy.”
“No. I mean, I actually don’t believe you guys got stuck. Did youreally? Or was it just an excuse to escape the un-bridezilla and all of us for twenty-four hours?”
“Why would we want to escape you?” I say.
Sabrina shakes her head. Points a finger at me. “You’re good, Williams. Too good.”
A server comes by with another tray, this one holding hors d’oeuvres.
“Oyster with toasted sherry mignonette?” the waiter offers.
“The oysters!” Nell exclaims.
“The oysters,” I nod.
“They made it,” she says.
“Sort of,” I say.
I realize we’re grinning at each other like idiots when Sabrina says, “Some people say oysters are aphrodisiacs.”
Nell snickers, shoots me a private smile.
“Some people do say that,” I say.
