Page 20 of Fireworks Flame
“If you have something to say, Liv, please say it.” There’s no sarcasm in her tone. If anything, there’s a pleading quality that’s contrary to her usual confidence. “I need a friend’s advice right now.”
I hesitate, comparing how I’m supposed to respond with how I want to. Finally, I decide to brave the latter. “You and Mac were good together. And if you think it could be good again, I’d be happy for you. But selfishly, I’m scared of what would happen if the two of you fell out. I don’t think the group could survive it again.”
I stop myself before admitting how crucial these people are to my life. That they’re the closest I’ve ever felt to being a part of something. It would put way too much pressure on Phoebe.
“I know exactly what you mean,” she says, sinking into the lounger. “I was worried about the same thing when we broke up. And then, last night! Liv, you have no idea how much I was panicking when Deiss said you were staying in his room. I was convinced the two of you were going to hook up and, after that, we’d lose you for sure.”
I wave off the thought, surprised by the change in focus. “It wasn’t like that at all. But why would that make me lost?”
“Oh, you know how it is. Deiss tends to take a kind of love-them-and-leave-them approach to women. And you tend to go cold when you’ve finished with someone. It’s not like I’m worried about either of you getting emotionally involved, but I can’t picture a scenario where you don’t both end up retreating. And that doesn’t really work for a group like ours, does it?”
I nod eagerly. Obviously, she’s way off base about Deiss and me, but she’s not wrong about the rest of it. “That’s exactly whatI’m saying about you and Mac. When you two broke up and you never wanted to see him again, it meant I was never going to see him again. And I could handle that if that’s how it had to be, but it wasn’t that simple, was it? Because where Mac is, Deiss is. And Simone has a bunch of sorority sisters and a weakness for handsome men, so she’s not exactly likely to choose time with us over Mac and Deiss. It’s all just a domino chain, waiting to fall.”
“Itis. And me seeing Mac naked again has made the first domino teeter.”
“Exactly.”
“But we can’t let them fall,” she says emphatically. “Olivia Bakersfield, we must keep the dominos upright!”
I lean back a little in the face of this sudden zealousness. I’m not quite sure how this benign conversation warrants declarations involving full names.
“Hear me out,” Phoebe says, holding up a hand. “Now, I’m not saying we have to be some creepy cult where we all get to tell each other what to do. However, as a group, we’re all basically in a relationship, right? Just because it’s not one person and not romantic doesn’t mean it’s not a relationship. And, like any relationship, one person can’t only take themselves into consideration when making a decision.”
“Okay?” I’m pretty sure, if there’s an actual need to specify the difference between your own philosophy and that of a creepy cult’s, something has gone off the rails. But it’s Phoebe doing the specifying, so I’m not prepared to argue quite yet.
“Do I sound crazy?” she asks. “Because I actually think this is really going to help me.”
“Is it?”
“Monkeys!” She shrieks the word.
Truthfully, sheisstarting to sound a little crazy.
“Behind you,” Phoebe says, gesturing toward the knobby pieces of wood functioning as a railing to the patio. She jumps to her feet.
I turn slowly and am shocked to discover not one monkey but three. They’ve got gray backs and fluffy white fronts and are scampering up the trunk and fronds of the tree in front of us. One peers at me with its tiny black face. Without conscious decision, I rise to greet it. It screeches, and I feel a thrill go through me. I’ve never seen a monkey so close, and certainly not one just hanging out like it has arrived to have coffee with us. Its friend swings from one branch to the next, chattering loudly.
“What I’m trying to say”—Phoebe raises her voice to be heard over the monkey sounds—“is that I can’t be weak with Mac. Not just because it’s a bad idea for me, and maybe even for him, but because it’s bad for everyone.”
“It’s bad for the group,” I say, catching on. It makes sense: Phoebe has always found it easier to look out for everyone around her than just for herself.
“So, for the sake of the group, I solemnly swear that I won’t allow anything to happen between Mac and me again. And you...” Phoebe holds out her hand like I’m supposed to shake it.
I grab it without thinking, but then I’m stumped. “And I...”
“Solemnly swear...” she prompts.
It hits me that she wants a promise that I won’t hook up with Deiss, which only causes me to laugh awkwardly. I’m happy to do anything that might help her not get hurt in the long run, but I can’t say the words she wants to hear. Deiss has zero romantic interest in me. I’d sound delusional.
Phoebe’s eyes search my face. “Oh my gosh,” she whispers. “Do you like him? Have youalways?”
“Of course not.” My voice has gone prim, and the sound of it makes me cringe. I hate when I talk like this. It makes me seem cold, and people always seem to shrivel in response. I grab Phoebe’s hand before she can recoil, and I shake it firmly. “I solemnly swear that I won’t ever allow anything to happen between me and Deiss.”
“That sounds final,” a voice says from behind us.
I whip around to find Deiss standing in the open door, three cups of coffee balanced in his hands. Heat surges up my back, flooding into my face. I have no doubt I’ve gone a blistering shade of red.
“Interesting.” Deiss tilts his head, his gaze perusing the length of me in a way that feels like actual hands on skin. “I didn’t realize that hadn’t been decided untilnow.”
