Page 121 of Close

“Thanks, Gem.” I take another sip of my drink.

“Yeah, because Gemma’s notes are like a fucking novel. I swear, she writes down every single word Jenkins says,” Mary says.

Gemma throws a pillow at her. “Hey, it’s called being thorough! Not all of us can rely on our natural genius like you, Miss 4.0 GPA.”

As they bicker back and forth, I lean back against the couch cushions. It was the right decision.

“Oh my god, I almost forgot! I wanted to show you guys something.” Gemma reaches for her sketchbook on the coffee table, flipping it open. “I’ve been working on this design for my class, and I could really use your feedback.”

Mary and I lean in, our eyes widening as Gemma reveals a stunning ballgown sketch. The lines are fluid and elegant, the fabric flowing around the drawn figure.

“That’s… wow.” I explore the pencil strokes with my fingertips.

Mary nods enthusiastically. “Yep. It’s gorgeous.”

“You think so? I mean, I’m pretty happy with it, but I wasn’t sure about the neckline,” Gemma says. “I also have some other ones. Here.”

Gemma shows us page after page of gorgeous ballgowns, each more stunning than the last. They have intricate corsets and flowing skirts, delicate lace, and shimmering silk—it’s like something out of a fairy tale.

As she flips to the last page, Gemma snaps the sketchbook shut with a grin. “Okay, that’s enough for now. I don’t want to bore you guys with all my design talk.”

Mary lunges forward, tackling Gemma in a hug. “Shut up. Show us the rest!”

I snatch the sketchbook from Gemma’s hand and flip to the last page. My jaw drops. “Gem, what is this?”

“What? Oh, that?” She chuckles nervously. “Just a little something I’ve been playing around with.”

I hold up the sketch, a red lace dessous design that’s equal parts cute and sexy.

Mary whistles low. “Damn, girl. You’ve been holding out on us.”

“What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

We dissolve into another fit of laughter, the sketchbook passed back and forth.

For a moment, everything else fades away. The hurt, the confusion, the uncertainty. It’s just us, just this moment.

And god, I’ve missed this.

The credits roll on our last movie, and I stumble to my feet, the room spinning slightly. Mary and Gemma are in no better shape, giggling as they link arms with me.

“You could sleep over.” Gemma rests her head on my shoulder.

“Mmm, I should go back.”

Mary grabs her keys. “Fine, but we’re walking you home. Oh, by the way, any chance you saw my necklace?”

“What necklace?” I ask.

“It has a little butterfly,” Mary says.

“No. Why?”

“Mary lost it,” Gemma says.

“I didn’t. Well, I kind of did, but it has to be somewhere.” Mary opens the door, and we make our way out of the apartment, leaning on each other for support.

The cool night air hits my face, and I breathe deeply, trying to clear my head.

---