Page 102 of Perfect on Paper

After bringing Brougham’s dad his portion as promised, Brougham and I perched ourselves by the window again, far enough back that we wouldn’t be noticed staring, and ate our own servings.

“They look a lot happier than they did,” Brougham remarked with a full mouth.

“Ninety-five percent success rate,” I replied.

“Touché.”

“Speaking of, how’s Winona doing?”

Brougham looked surprised by the question. But I’d said it as casually as possible. Sure, we hadn’t spoken about her much, but she wasn’t entirely off-limits, right? “She’s fine, I guess. Seemed happy enough the last time we spoke.”

“Well that’s a glowing endorsement,” I said.

“I don’t know what you expected. I mean, does she have to be thrilled?”

“Um, ideally?”

Brougham snorted. “That’s a very rosy outlook. I don’t know how realistic it is, though.”

That. Made my heart break a little. And it took every ounce of strength, every littlebitof self-control in my body not to interfere. If anyone had written into the locker describing their relationship so ambivalently I would’ve told them something seemed very wrong. Especially so early into its revival. Brougham deserved someone who was fuckingpsychedto be with him, and if that wasn’t Winona—

If that wasn’t Winona, that was his business. It wasn’t my place.

“Can I just check you’re okay?” I asked.

Brougham put his finished plate down and stood up. He wasn’t smiling, but there was nothing concerning in his expression. “Darcy, I have never been better. Honestly. Thanks for your concern, though.”

Well, that had to be that.

Anyway. There was no time to dwell on it, because it was time for the second movie.

TWENTY-TWO

Ainsley’s face was projected on the screen again. This time, she wore a red velvet dressing gown and a flower crown prop she kept for her videos. “Hello! Ho, ho, ho! I am the ghost of relationships present!”

“Does she think that’s Santa?” Brougham murmured. “Does she know they’re different?”

“The past is something that we cannot chaaannggeee, ho, ho, ho!”

“Well, now she’s just smashed them all together and made something new and horrifying,” Brougham said. I shushed him.

“We’re not obligated to forgive the paaassstttt, but sometimes we get so focused on it, we fail to see the present, woooooOOOO! WOOOOO!” Ainsley leaned forward and belted this into the camera, eyes wild.

Brooke was laughing so hard her forehead was pressed against the table. Ray shuffled away from the screen a little, as though she was worried Ainsley would climb out and shout in her face.

“For this task, all we ask is that you listen to what’sbeing said in the present, before deciding whether the past is worth holding oooonnntttoooo.” Ainsley dropped down slowly onto her knees, and kept going until she was out of the camera frame, leaving the camera pointed at her empty bedroom. The video cut out.

For this part of the night, Brougham and I were doomed to be left out. Ray had asked us when we invited her to provide her with an opportunity to apologize to Brooke properly. And that’s what she was doing now. We could spy on them through the windows, and try to gauge how we felt it was going. We could watch the tears roll down Brooke’s cheeks, and guess if the nodding was a good indicator. But the words were private.

After an eternity, both Ray and Brooke started to look what I interpreted to be much happier. Ray turned to the window—apparently they were both fully aware they were being spied on—and gestured to us it was safe to go out. Brougham and I hurried to the kitchen to fetch the dessert.

As soon as Brooke and Ray had their plates, I brought the laptop as close to Brooke as I could get it. “You’re responsible for I.T. operations,” I said. “Someone needs to pause and restart the video once you’re done answering each question, because we couldn’t predict how long you’d take.”

Brooke gave me a still-watery smile and nodded.

Ainsley’s next outfit was a black hoodie with the hood up, and sunglasses. It was the best we could do on short notice. “I,” she wheezed in her best lifelong-smoker impression, “am the ghost of relationships yet to come. I wanted to show you visions of yourselves dying alone, but Darcy told me I’m not allowed to do that, so I drew a picture of it anyway, and I’m adding it in behind Darcy’s back.”

“What?”I hissed.

---