Page 7 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

I push a hand through my hair, feeling like everything is about to come crashing down.

And I’m not about to be the sob story that ruins this shower.

I deflect. “Oh, there’s plenty of time to catch up on all of that.” I wave a hand in the air. “Today is about you.” I take a step toward Taylor. “I’m so happy for you, Tay. And Aaron too.” I pull her into a tight hug, and after a few minutes, Maya and Marnie join in. We stand like that for at least thirty seconds—enough time for the hug to affect me, and when I pull away, I’m wiping tears from my cheeks.

“You’re crying.” Taylor reaches over and wipes my cheeks dry.

I point a finger at myself. “Actor.I can cry on cue,” I say through a wonky smile. “This is just for effect.” I push the emotions away. Like usual.

It doesn’t seem to be working right now, though, which means I’m on shaky ground.

I do my best to get through the rest of the afternoon, like I’m performing a Saturday matinee ofCat on a Hot Tin Roof, the sixth show of eight, acting for a sea of blue hair in a three-hundred-seat auditorium.

And while I love seeing my friends and catching up with everyone, by the time I’m back in my parents’ house that evening, all I want to do is hide.

I’m not thriving. I’m barely surviving.

This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

And I have no idea how to fix it.

Chapter 2

The next day I meet my friends for brunch.

Taylor and Marnie are brunch people, which is to say they do things before eleven in the morning, like eat avocado toast and talk to people who also eat avocado toast.

Maya and me? Not so much.

At least Maya didn’t used to be. When I pull up to Harold’s in the Square, the only restaurant that serves brunch in Pleasant Valley, I see her standing outside on her phone. She’s impeccably dressed, hair pulled back into a slick ponytail, expensive bag hanging off her shoulder.

She looks so... grown-up. And so... put together. I don’t see a trace of the rebellious Maya I used to know. The girl with the dark, thick eyeliner and black nail polish is gone, and in her place is this gorgeous, refined... adult... woman.

And she owns a business.

And she’s marrying a mayor.

It’s like I’m in some weird, twisted version ofFreaky Friday, but all my friends have switched places with new, fancy, successful people, and I’ve stayed exactly the same.

Marnie appears on the sidewalk next to her, and suddenly I’m self-conscious about my outfit. The pink joggers and thrifted bright-yellow sweatshirt seemed like a good idea—I’m one for comfort over style, for sure—but there’s no way to hide in a neon sweater.

I glance up at the rearview mirror and blink three times. “They love you, Rosie. They aren’t going to think less of you if you tell them the truth. Just be honest—”

I gasp at the knock on the window of my mom’s minivan and turn to see Taylor standing in the street, frowning. “What are you doing?” she shouts through the window, over-miming with her hands to indicate that I’m nuts.

I open the car door and get out. “You scared me to death.”

“It’s nice to see you still talk to yourself.” She smiles.

“Beats paying for therapy,” I quip, knowing that it doesn’t—it’s only cheaper.

I grab my bag and close the car door, clicking the button on the key fob to lock it.

“And you still carry a gigantic bag.” She tosses me a sideways grin.

“Hey,” I protest, “I seem to remember my gigantic bag saving you more than once.”

“Fair point.” She nods. “I could always count on you for an Advil or a sewing kit or a burrito—”

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