Page 91 of The New Year's Party
The Year from Hell was in the past, and so were its lessons, which had turned out to be total trash... or at least pretty damn flawed. Bennett would have to sort through it all again.There would be lessons to unlearn. Damage to repair. New habits to develop and new patterns to make. But it would be okay, because he wouldn’t do it alone this time. He’d do it with Olivia.
As they shot across the Skyway, he hummed “My Blue Heaven” and Olivia leaned her head against his shoulder.
Chapter 39
Allie
Allie let herself into the dark apartment. It was nearing four in the morning, and she felt equal parts spent and buzzed. She closed the door quietly behind her, not wanting to wake Leigh. Took her coat off, hung her purse on the hook by the door.
There was a single light on in the kitchen. A Post-it note was stuck to the counter, with Leigh’s sloppy scrawl.Happy 2020, my love.
For as big and bad as Leigh looked—tall and tattooed and deep-voiced—she was a soft little puppy dog on the inside.Never judge a book by its cover, Allie thought as she slipped off her shoes and headed for the bedroom.
She hadn’t moved in with Leigh, but she did sleep over sometimes, and she’d agreed to come here tonight, after her party. They were going to sleep in as late as they wanted, which was a luxury since Leigh was normally up at five to open the coffee shop. Leigh was going to make breakfast and they were going to spend the whole day taking it easy, which would mean Bloody Marys around ten and all-day mimosas after that. Leigh’s friends would be in and out of the apartment, as they always were. Leigh was that person. The refuge for strays.
In the hush of the small bedroom, the streetlights shonethrough the slats, casting a pattern on the sleeping figure of her girlfriend of over a year. Leigh’s short hair feathered out on the pillow.
When, two years ago, Leigh had opened The Morning Grind near the school where Allie taught, Allie never would have guessed that the hot barista who also happened to own the place would end up asking her out, or that Allie would fall head over heels by their third date.
It had been easy to fall in love with Leigh, and it wasn’t just her beautiful forearms or her sexy tattoos. It was her confidence. Her wholeness.
Allie stepped out of her dress and grabbed one of Leigh’s T-shirts from the chair where Leigh’s clothes tended to pile up. Mmmm, it smelled like her—lavender and musk.
As Allie slid under the covers, Leigh turned a little.
“Hey. You’re home.” Her voice was mushy.
“Go back to sleep,” Allie murmured.
“How was the party?”
Allie wasn’t even sure Leigh was actually awake.
“Fine. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.”
Not all of it, of course. Just the parts that would fit with Leigh’s vision of Allie—the cute, harmless kindergarten teacher who, yes, had some baggage, but had mostly come out of her tough circumstances unscathed.
Leigh was propping herself up on her elbow, brushing hair out of her face. “Did you... get to hear some good stories? About Oscar?”
Poor Leigh. She had no idea. No one did, and no one would.
Of course, she had needed to explain to Leigh why she was going to a New Year’s party with a bunch of random middle-aged people instead of hanging with Leigh and the gang at their friend’s sports bar. But that was easy to explain, since it was mostly just the truth.
Allie had met Phelps innocently, while beefing up her pool skills with one of her gay guy friends. Leigh was volunteering at the Boys and Girls Club that night and Allie had nothing better to do.
When Phelps started flirting, Allie tried to put him off politely. But then... his name rang a bell. Phelps. Phelps. Where had she heard that before? It was when he started talking about his New Year’s plans that it hit her.
Oh, God. She had justreadabout these people. In Oscar’s journals.
She didn’t even know her big brother kept journals until she was cleaning out his old room to get her parents’ house ready for sale, and there, buried in the closet and covered in fourteen years’ worth of dust, was the stack. Allie started reading. Once she started, she couldn’t stop.
I met someone at Compass today—two people, actually. We got pizza afterward. I think we might become friends! Jenn is from La Porte, and Will is from Michigan City. So funny that I’m from South Bend and we’ve probably all crossed paths before without knowing it! College is going to be awesome!!!
Reading his entries was so painful, because despite the exclamation points, the youthful optimism, the unguarded sincerity, Allie knew how his story ended.
She read about how Oscar started attending a Christian group called Compass with his new friends. Started dating Jenn but had secret feelings for Will. How he tried to change. To make himself feel the right things and stop feeling the wrong things. How he accidentally kissed Will at a New Year’s party.
All these entries and more were fresh in Allie’s mind when, in the din of the pool hall with a glass of cheap beer in her hand, Phelps talked about the long history of the New Year’scrowd. Each name pinged in Allie’s head. Doug. Bennett. Will. Jenn.
