Page 150 of Toeing the Line

Something soft strokes my face and in the quiet of the car I realize she’s wiping at my cheeks.

“Faye,” she says, holding my cheeks and turning me to face her. “Faye? You’re in shock. Say something. Please.”

The car moves, I think, and I blink. Twice. I swallow. And I feel the painful ache of the tears pulsing from my tired eyes.

“Faye,” she whispers, cupping my cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

“It was real?” I say, because I have to know.

She sighs and lets go of my cheeks, reaching into a compartment to her right and extracting two glasses. She pours an amber liquid into each and as I look around, I realize we’re riding in the back of her wedding limo.

“This is your getaway car,” I say. “We need to go back,” I call up to the driver.

“No,” Edie says. “To the house, please.”

“Edie, this is your wedding night,” I say as she holds up a glass of something that smells strong and appealing.

“And you’re my sister. Darwin will be just as happy to sleep with me tomorrow night as he would be tonight.” She puckers up her face and raises her glass in a toast. “Or last night.”

I muster a hollow chuckle and toast. I let the booze burn down my throat and for a moment it feels good to feel a specific, explainable pain that I know will end soon enough. But when it’s over, my stomach shudders with a sob, and Edie takes my glass and wraps her arms around me.

“It’s okay, Faye.”

But it’s not. I saw what I saw. Which was Zeke, my best friend, the man I might be in love with, coming out of a dark bathroom with a nearly naked girl who hates me so much she’s made a game of fucking my boyfriends.

And honestly, it’s not even about her. It’s about Zeke. The man who I confessed my insecurities to; who rescued me from having to do this on my own; who convinced me that I was enough. Hell, that I was more than enough.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” she whispers as she presses another kiss on the top of my head.

But I shake my head, because it’s not that simple. It’s not about deserving or not deserving. He was perfect for me. If I can’t make him want to deserve me, then what hope do I have?

I sob into Edie’s wedding dress as she strokes my hair until we finally pull through the gated entry. Mom and Dad are already there, somehow, waiting for us at the door. Dad looks helpless, but Mom looks like she’s ready to go to war. It catches me off guard, and I hesitate. She steps closer.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she says, wrapping her arm around my back on the opposite side of Edie, and together, they help me to bed.

Edie curls up with me in my massive bed as Mom tucks us in. I fall asleep, my hand curled in hers and yet, I’ve never felt more alone.

47

faye

“Yes…oh no, I’m so sorry… yes, of course… I’ll let her know.”

Edie hovers in the bathroom, talking into the phone, her voice lowered. As if that would stop me from eavesdropping. Or prevent me from waking up and remembering that Zeke and Liza got naked last night.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut, as if that will stop the headache, just as the pocket door rolls opened and I catch Edie holding my phone.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she says, pursing her lips. It’s something she does when there’s especially bad news, but I can’t imagine what would be any worse.

“It’s fine. You didn’t wake me,” I lie.

She continues to stand there for a moment, tapping the screen side of my phone against her palm.

“Are you thirsty?” she asks, but then doesn’t wait for an answer, walking to the bathroom and turning on the faucet. She returns with a full glass and two tablets.

“I didn’t get drunk,” I say.

“I figured your eyes might hurt. Headache?”

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