Page 23 of Over the Edge

“Deplorable.”

“The worst,” she says. She undoes her seatbelt and gets out of the car. After she shuts the door her hand lingers on the edge. “You’re not the worst though, not really.” Her eyes latch on mine and it's a marvel she remains soft despite the weight I now know she’s carrying. “See you around?”

“Probably not.”

“Going to hide at Alina’s and avoid me now that the betting pool’s not going to come for you?” she teases.

Her references to Alina and the betting pool are such small things, but it’s an exchange I’ve never had with anyone else.

These people. This place. I keep them to myself.

Sharing this with Evelyn, a person who can truly appreciate it even if I can’t, was something I never saw coming.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” And I don’t have room to regret it. I need to get back to work. It doesn’t matter that these twenty-four hours have forced us to share things about ourselves we never would have under different circumstances.

“Oh.” Evelyn nods as she digests this. “Well then, I’ll see you for our regularly scheduled run-in in a few months.”

“Send an NDA and I’ll sign it.”

Her lips draw into a tight line. “Okay.”

The moment she lets go of the door I’m backing down the driveway.

9

Evelyn

Ahangover hammers through my skull, scattering my consciousness. As I collect the pieces of myself, fragments of last night dip in and out. All of it plays back like a grainy silent movie with subtitles to commentate on the comedy of errors that transpired.

The new contract with Reverb pushing for a public reveal.

See, look at this idiot girl dealing with the consequences of her own actions!

Waiting for Garrett to say something while I felt like I was going to implode.

Now, over here, kids! This is why you don’t insist on being added to someone’s car’s Bluetooth. At least it wasn’t porn!

There’s a part of me that wishes it was porn because it would have been just as embarrassing for Garrett as it would have been for me with fewer lasting effects.

He said I could send him an NDA, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. First, that would mean admitting to Vincent that I slipped up, and I really don’t want to do that right now with somuch up in the air. I do trust Garrett. He might think I’m Drew’s annoying little sister, but he wouldn’t tell anyone my secret.

Eventually, I start my day (read: drag a blanket downstairs and cocoon myself in a hangover nest while wearing sunglasses inside all while cursing my past self.)

I crook my arm out into an invisible embrace and send a picture to Avery. Over the last few months in New York we’ve spent endless mornings in her bed with its duvet that could make a cloud envious. Sometimes it feels like I’m trying to use her to replace Quinn, but that’s not fair to either of them. That would be asking too much of Avery and her busy schedule. Worse, it would also mean Quinn is replaceable.

Evelyn

If you need me, I’ll be here rotting.

Moments later a video call comes through. Avery is getting her makeup done, face brightly lit. A brush dips into view, blending out the blush on the apples of her cheeks.

“Two days there and you’ve already been driven to drinking,” she says. The makeup artist lifts the brush as she talks. “Get out while you can.”

“Actually, this is how I’m getting in with the locals. They’ve skipped trying to brainwash me and have started to accept me as their own,” I say.

“Are any of the brain washing locals hot?” Right to the important stuff, then.

My mind inserts a picture of Garrett. Garrett, who didn’t bat an eye last night and treated me better than I could have hoped for after dropping the weight of my world into his lap. “Yeah.”

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