Page 119 of Rinkmates

“It’s not like he doesn’t know she overdoes it, but he’ll get angry and they’ll have a fight. It won’t help anyone. She won’t stop with the shit and his night will be ruined. Believe me, we tried everything, but no therapist will work with her until she’s ready to work on herself.”

“But how can she do drugs as a professional ballerina?”

Jayce shrugs. “She’s dancing on her grave.”

“Are you citing Gelsey Kirkland?” One of the most famous ballet dancers from the ’70s. She used to battle several addictions while being the best performer of her time.

Jayce nods.

“She’s using coke at parties, and I think she’s trying to get herself expelled from Juilliard. They have strict rules—one strike with drugs or excessive drinking, and they’re out.”

I look up at him, my eyes big like saucers. “She wants to get kicked out?”

“She hates it there.”

“Why not just stop then without ruining her body?”

“She’s dramatic.”

I don’t get it.

Before I can respond, Mrs. Huntington takes the stage, and the room falls silent.

Eleanor starts to speak, her polished veneer firmly in place, and all I can think is that this glittering world of wealth and privilege is far more tarnished beneath the surface than I ever imagined.

“Gran,I want you to meet someone special,” Riley says, guiding his grandma to me after his speech. “This is my girlfriend, Liora. And this is my grandma, Lilli Huntington.”

“Oh, my dear, I’m thrilled to finally meet you,” she exclaims, clasping my hands in hers. Her touch is gentle, her smile radiant. She’s the kind of elderly woman who still looks young despite all the wrinkles she doesn’t hide and her white hair that’s cut shortly. She’s as small as I am and looks so tiny as Riley has his arm wrapped around her. “I’ve heard so much about you from Riley. He positively lights up when he speaks of you.”

“You’ve heard so much about me?” I blush, glancing at Riley, who grins bashfully.

“He calls me on away periods,” she says proudly, and I think that is actually so sweet.

We chat casually, with Granny sharing funny stories about Riley’s childhood and beaming with pride over his achievements. I can’t help but feel a connection to her warmth and the way she genuinely cares about her grandson, especially compared to his parents’ cold indifference.

Just as we all settle at the table, ready to ask Granny about Riley’s cereal obsession, Rosalie’s laughter cuts through the air. It’s loud, grabbing everyone’s attention. Oddly, even though her parents are sitting right across from us, they seem to be ignoring their daughter’s drunk state.

She sways in her seat, a nearly empty wine glass dangling precariously from her manicured fingers. Jayce’s jaw tightens next to me, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he observes her.

“Rosie, I think you’ve had enough,” Riley says, reaching over the table for her glass.

She jerks away, sloshing wine onto the white tablecloth. “Oh, lighten up, little brother,” she slurs, her words slightly blurred around the edges. “It’s a party, isn’t it?”

“You’re sure you don’t want to come with me, baby?” Vaughn says and, as if we’re not sitting across from them, kisses her with tongue. I feel something against my thigh and notice that Jay is balling a fist next to me. Shit, he’s so gone for her. “I bet the party in New York is better.”

“I can’t.” Rosalie pouts. “My family needs me, galas areimportant.” She stretches out theimportantand rolls her eyes dramatically.

“Fine. See ya.” Vaughn kisses her one more time and then leaves without saying goodbye. And no one seems to care. I glance to their father. Not one single move. He’s still talking to some men, looking all business.

Rosalie takes the opportunity to whistle for the waiter.

Riley shoots Jayce a pleading look.

With a curt nod, Jayce slides into the seat beside Rosalie, gently prying the glass from her fingers. She pouts again, leaning heavily against him, her hand coming to rest on his thigh.

I watch, uncomfortably transfixed, as Jayce carefully puts her hand away, his gaze darting to Riley. He threw his hands up in front of his chest, palms pressed together like he was saying thanks.

Rosalie lurches to her feet, swaying slightly. “I need the little girl’s room,” she whisper-shouts at Jayce.

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