Page 86 of A Photo Finish
The two of them have me sandwiched in between them. Their way of forcing me to come out for a girl’s night. When I said I couldn’t muster the energy to go to Neighbor’s Pub, this was Billie’s suggestion. What I didn’t tell them was I didn’t want to go to the pub because it reminded me of that night with Cole. When he finally softened up a little. When things got out of hand in the truck. That night, over pints of dark beer and chicken wings with a little too much batter, we came to a tenuous agreement. We turned a corner. The next day, he built Pippy her shelter.
“Wine straight out of the bottle and everything?” Mira asks from where she lies on the other side of me.
“Oh, yeah,” Billie says. “It’s not the same with a glass. Less therapeutic that way, I think.”
I giggle. “And the bread? You didn’t cut it? You just ripped pieces off?”
“I’m fancy like that.” Mira snorts in the most unladylike way, and Billie continues, “But it’s way more fun with you guys here.”
“I love you guys,” I blurt out with a light slur.
“Violet, no more wine from the bottle for you,” Billie says. “You’re just drinking your feelings now.”
“Seems as good a plan as any.” I put my hands behind my head and continue staring at Orion’s Belt up in the night sky.
I wonder if Cole is sitting outside looking at the same thing. He liked to sit outside with Pippy when he couldn’t sleep. But I haven’t taken her back over there yet—something I feel bad about. I left and took the one other living thing he enjoyed spending time with.
“Maybe try eating your feelings instead?” Mira holds a chunk of ripped French bread with a slice of brie on it over my way.
I take a bite right as Mira asks, “Have you seen Cole at all?”
“No,” I mumble around my overfull mouth. It’s been three days, and nothing. No call, no text, no smoke signals from his house.
“Well, go get on his case already.”
“I don’t know what to say to him. He told me he can’t handle me being a jockey. What the fuck am I supposed to do about that? Quit?” I snort. “Screw him.”
I look over to see Mira nodding. “The screwing must be pretty good for you to be this torn up about it.”
My mind flashes to his hands on me, his gruff voice, his stubble between my thighs, me bent over in that stall for him. “You have no idea.”
“Ugh! Gross,” Billie says, as she sits up to take another swig of wine. “You guys are both so stupid. He’s scared of losing you, and you’re scared of losing him. You both need to toughen up and get back to smashing. You’re both in a better mood when you do. He’s less grumpy, and you’re less emo.”
I can’t help but laugh. Billie minces no words, and it’s one of my favorite things about her.
“When I first met you,” she says, “I thought you were like Drew Barrymore in that movie,Never Been Kissed. Virginal and awkward, but you’re more like a secret freak. I respect the hell outta that. Channel that girl, and go make G.I. Joe pull his head out of his ass so I won’t have to keep avoiding the offices when I know he’s there.”
“So, this is about you?” I quirk a brow and point at her unsteadily.
“Of course! Everything is about me!”
We all dissolve into a fit of giggles and revel in the lightened moment.
Until Mira ruins it. “Speaking of egomaniacs, Violet, has Stefan Dalca spoken to you?”
My body goes tense at the mere mention of his name. I feel like I sober up instantly. “No. Why?”
“He said he was going to.”
“About what?”
“Not my place to say.”
Mira is like a lockbox. I know there’s no point in pestering her. Where Billie might spill, she won’t.
“Just checking,” I say.
“Didn’t know you and Dalca the Dick were buddies, Mira.” Billie swigs again.
