Page 31 of Drown Like Heaven
Me :Already outside
My response was unnecessary, however, because Mila was already arriving down the road, her silver SUV bumping over the dirt while muffled shoegaze leaked from the slightly-cracked windows. I hopped up and jogged down the few steps, skipping over to the passenger door before she’d even stopped the vehicle.
I yanked on the door—locked. I yanked again and again until Mila finally reached over the seat and pulled up the broken latch, laughing and rolling her eyes. Sliding into the seat, I felt a real grin pushing my cheeks up, warming my mood.
“You’re so impatient, damn,” Mila said while reversing and getting the car turned around.
“Hey. I was waiting for you.”
“I know. My princess stuck in her tower.”
I leaned back, stretching my legs out in front of me. The sinking feeling in my stomach was already lessening.
“Ivan actually said he’d drive us if we don’t want to call a ride,” Mila said, glancing both ways as she pulled out on the main road. We were going back to her apartment first to meet up with a few other med school people, then we’d go out.
“I’m going to bet we have to call one to get home, though.”
Mila laughed. “Well…he owes me because he broke one of my plates, so maybe hewillget his ass out of bed for us.”
The forest was a dark blur around us as we sped down the road, lush ferns and moss melting into tall trees, rain-damp and ominous. My eyes skimmed the shadows, searching for deer—or other, scarier things. I wasn’t immune to superstition.
We listened to Mila’s music for the rest of the drive to her apartment, the windows rolled halfway down and evening air swirling around inside the car. It was nice on my warm cheeks, slightly damp and cool, soothing. The rumble of the tires on the road laid a steady backdrop for Mazzy Star and Slowdive.
After pulling into her assigned parking space, Mila rolled up the windows then we unbuckled and climbed out, heading towards the covered external stairs that lead up to her second floor apartment.
“Vanya!” she singsonged, pushing hard on the front door until it unstuck and flung open.
“Lyudochka!” he replied, not turning to face us as we walked in, focused on rolling out dough on the counter. “Kotyusha, too?”
“Yes. Hi,” I said, giving a pointless wave—he wasn’t looking at me.Kotyushawas apparently a Russian diminutive form of my name, which only Ivan called me. I assumed he made it up.
“What are you making? Pelmeni?” Mila tossed her bag on the table by the door.
“Da.”
“Mmmmm,” Mila hummed with his affirmation. “You only cook when I’m going out. Fucker.”
“There will be leftovers.” Ivan gestured at the dough and bowl of ground meat in front of him. “Clearly.”
“I don’t know. You’re greedy as fuck, so you might eat them all.”
Ivan rolled his eyes.
“Thank you, Ludmila.”
Mila towed me along behind her into her bedroom, then flopped down on her leopard-print comforter. Her dress was so short I could see her bright pink thong when it rode up, which made me laugh.
“Oh, zip it,” she groaned at my laughter, tugging her dress down. “I have slut plans.”
“Wasn’t judging. Who else is coming?” I plopped myself on the bed next to her, my hair fanning out on a furry pillow with her initials monogrammed on.
“Serena and Lauren and…” She held her phone above her face, clicking through her messages with ridiculous speed. A little beaded charm was dangling down from her phone case, swinging gently. “…Zoey. The others aren’t coming.”
Truthfully, I didn’t know Mila’s friends all that well. They were nice the few times I’d hung out with them, but I wasn’t really part of their whole friend group.
“Can you elaborate on the slut plans?”
“Find a man who looks like Eric.”
