Page 26 of Grayson

Please let them be playing a prank on me.

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

I’m in hell.

“Black walls.” I remain where I am on the couch, hoping at any moment they are going to laugh or smile and save me this sinking feeling in my stomach.

“And ceiling,” Rachel adds and my mouth drops open, still staring at them both. “We just need someone to take down the ceiling fan.”

“No,” the word tumbles from my mouth as I stand and walk toward the kitchen in order to refill my wine glass. One teenager is crazy enough, but two, there is never a dull moment.

“Why not?” Tori follows behind me and pauses on the opposite side of the counter that separates the two rooms.

I take my time filling my glass and placing the bottle back into the refrigerator. Lifting the glass to my lips I take a drink then I turn to face her. Both of them are waiting, the sassiness evident in their expressions. Lips pursed, arms crossed over their chests, what a pair.

“Because we live in an apartment. I’m pretty sure that the landlord would lose his shit if he walked in and found a black room, minus the carpet.”

“I think Hank would be fine with it.”

“Hank?” I ask my sister. “His first name is Hank?” I wonder how she knows this.

“He looks like a Hank.” She shrugs.

“Or maybe a Roger,” Rachel adds.

“Maybe a Frank.” Tori laughs.

“Oh, Frank.” Rachel turns to face Tori. “We’ll just call him Frank.” They nod at one another and then turn back to face me. I feel like I’m trapped in an Adam Sandler movie. They are so crazy but you can’t help but laugh through ninety percent of it.

“Tonight is going to be a two bottle kind of night, isn’t it?” Rachel is spending the night and considering she has only been here for an hour I see how this night is going to go.

“It would be easier if you just said yes.” Tori leans over resting her elbows on the counter.

“I am not going to agree to you painting your room black.”

“Okay then the ceiling at least and two walls.”

“Navy blue,” I challenge her, “but definitely not black.” I stare at her refusing to back down.

Her eyes narrow as she pushes off the counter. We are at a standoff. Much like most of our conversations and compromises we are waiting for the other one to break.

“Fine,” she says.

“Fine,” I reply and Rachel laughs gaining my attention. “What?”

“You do know that we just played you right?” Rachel looks at Tori and they share a knowing smile.

“Mind sharing what you know.” I tip back my glass draining the contents before grabbing the wine bottle.

“We knew you’d say no to the black. We also knew that you’d make a suggestion of another color and though we half expected you to go for a pale blue or even a gray, you choosing navy blue is what Tori wanted in the first place.”

I’ll never win, I know this. My fourteen-year-old sister seems to be one step ahead of me at all times. She’s clever, and in the end she always wins.

“Assholes,” I mumble as I walk the length of the counter before turning and reentering the living room. With my wine glass in one hand and the bottle in the other I sit on the couch and refuse to look back at them. I can hear their giggles. Truth is I adore Rachel too, she is the first person that welcomed Tori when she started a new school two years ago. Tori knew no one, was grieving the loss of her parents and felt utterly lost. It was almost like Rachel knew how bad she’d needed a best friend she could count on. Rachel is so loyal it’s scary but I love it. They are ride or die, donate a kidney, help hide the body and never speak of it again kind of friends and I love it for them.

“I’ve been drinking,” I announce, “so it looks like the paint will have to wait.”

Tipping back the bottle I take a big drink and relax back against the cushions. I feel like I’d won, even if only a little. I spin around when I hear the door to the apartment close. Rachel remains sitting on the stool at the counter, but Tori is nowhere to be seen.

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