[38]
More than all the things she wished at this moment, Everly wished Stacey hadn’t followed her all the way into her apartment. She felt like that game from when she was a kid—Operation. One slip, one wrong touch, and everything would go off inside of her. She wanted to be alone when it did.
She slipped her shoes off, tossed her keys somewhere near the hook, and went to the couch. She snagged the stupid squishy cat she freaking loved off the coffee table and sank into the corner.
“You want some tea?”
“No, thanks. You can go. I’m fine. I’ll text you later.” The fact that she got that many words out in a row made her proud. She could hang on a few more minutes. She flexed her hand. In, out, in, out.
“Ev, talk to me.”
She clenched her hand so the cat’s head sort of squeezed out of her fist. Nope. No more talking. She wouldn’t get through it. Her mind was spinning with facts. Dad owns the station, not who he said he was, never intended to stay, divorced.
“What the hell is that thing? It’s creeping me out!” Stacey walked across the room and leaned over Everly, looking down at her hand.
“Stress cat.” Everything was building inside of her. She could actually feel it piling up. Her emotions were a tower of cards; the slightest breeze would send her crashing down, but all she could do was watch. Wait for it to happen.
“That’s weird.”
She let out a strangled laugh. “Yup.”
“Evs.”
She shook her head, closed her eyes and her fist as tightly as possible. The couch shifted, and Stacey’s side was plastered to hers. She breathed through her nose.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Stacey whispered.
The card tower tumbled. Slowly at first, a few tears trickling from beneath closed lids. Her friend’s sharp inhale released the rest, and then she couldn’t see even with her eyes open. Everything was blurry and wet, and she couldn’t squeeze the cat hard enough to stop the sob that escaped.
When Stacey’s arm came around her, she caved and leaned into the hug. To her credit, Stacey didn’t try to talk her through it. She just held on, and that’s what Everly did, too. She held on and let all the cards scatter.
The litany of awkward moments that lived in her head on repeat—her parents, Simon with a woman on top of him, announcing her failure on the air, the goddamn piñata full of condoms, the first piñata full of distraction and devastation, her parents’ back-and-forth, back-and-forth, their faces when she said she’d had enough. Chris.
Her chest ached and her face was soaked, and still Stacey didn’t let go. Everly would die of mortification later, but for these few moments, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
She had no idea how long it was before her tears ran dry. By the time they did, her entire body ached and she’d all but molded her body to Stacey’s. The feel of her friend’s hand stroking her hair was so soothing, she closed her eyes. Just a few more minutes and she’d pull herself together. Just a few more minutes.
* * *
Everly’s eyes felt like they’d been glued shut and sprinkled with salt. She blinked and got stuck in that hazy moment of knowing something was wrong but not being sure what.
She turned her head and realized she was lying on her couch, facing the back of it. Instead of sitting up, she shifted and turned over, saw Stacey sitting in the chair across from the couch, a book in her hand, a cup of tea on the table in front of her, and Everly’s notebook beside it.
Her mouth felt like she’d eaten sandpaper, but she licked her lips and managed a gravelly, “Hey.”
Stacey smiled and put the book down. Everly realized she was covered by the blanket she kept on the back of the couch. She worked herself into a sitting position, still too groggy for the embarrassment to swallow her whole. That would come next. Once she was all the way awake to appreciate it.
“How’re you doing?” Stacey’s voice was soft. It made Everly smile because it was so different from her gregarious tone that infused people with happiness.
“I feel like I swallowed and bathed in sand. What are you still doing here?” Everything rushed back. Kissing Chris. Work. Angry man. Lies. New York. Stacey following her. Sobbing. Stacey’s date! “Your date with Rob. What time is it?” More awake now, she sat up straighter and pulled the blanket in front of her to fold it.
“I’ve rescheduled,” Stacey said, eyeing her in a very strange way.
Everly groaned. She probably looked like she’d been hit by a truck. Crying was never pretty, but falling asleep before cleaning herself up was something she didn’t want to imagine. Unfortunately for her friend, she was staring right at her. “I’m a mess. I’m sorry. Please don’t reschedule for me.”
“Jesus, Everly. Would you leave me if the tables were turned?”
Everly sat back down, surprised at the bite in Stacey’s tone. “Well, no. But I didn’t mean to ruin your night. I know tonight mattered.”
Stacey sat forward, and it took a minute—hazy post-tears brain—but Everly realized she was mad.
“You know it mattered, because I let you in. You’re supposed to do the same. You’re my best friend. You’re my person.”
Everly’s pulse hiccupped. “You’re mine. I’m so sorry I messed up your night.”
“This isn’t about tonight or a date.” Stacey got up, her movements jerky and tense. She walked over to the window and leaned on the wall next to it, staring outside.
“Why are you mad?”
Her friend glanced over, and the sadness she saw in her gaze made Everly’s heart clutch. “The whole social anxiety thing? I didn’t get it at first, because why would I? I love crowds, people—the more noise the better. I’m cool with all that, but the closer we got, which wasn’t an easy road in the first place, the more I understood that this was part of who you were. So you don’t like to double-date, go to clubs, or sit at a crowded lunch table. Who cares? Once you loosen up a bit and start to trust someone, you’re pretty damn cool. Funnier than I’d originally thought, probably the sweetest person I know. Likely, that comes from how much overthinking you do. God, your brain must be fucking tired. I cannot imagine being in there.”
Everly’s mouth hung open. She had no idea where this was coming from or where it was going. The words were raw, genuine, and surprisingly on point. She was tired.
Stacey wandered back over and flopped into the chair with her legs stretched out. “The thing is, I’ve made it clear in a million ways—at least I thought I had—that I accept you. I get you even if I don’t get what goes through your brain.”
“I know that. I love you. You know that.” Her heart got all panicky. Why did this feel like a breakup?
“I love you, Evs, but you can’t keep people at arm’s length. Well, you can, but not me. The other shoe is not going to drop on our friendship. I’m not leaving. Not when you’re being so shy you seem like a snob to others, not when you babble like an idiot because your nerves get the best of you, not when you cry like your heart is breaking. How could you think I’d leave you alone through that? Why would you want me to? Why the hell would you put yourself out there to go on all those dates when you’re in love with Chris? Most of all, why would you keep all of this from me?”
The hurt in her tone slashed across Everly’s skin like claws. “I—” She shook her head, her throat closing up. “I’m not. I’m not in love with him. I wasn’t trying to keep things from you.”
Stacey leaned forward and opened the notebook, pointed at Reasons It Can’t Be Chris. Everly cringed. She knew she should have ripped up the original. “It’s not love. It’s just … feelings. None of this matters anymore.”
Stacey tossed the book down. “How can it not matter? How can you say that? You didn’t cry when you were seven years old and your parents wrecked your birthday party. You didn’t cry when you walked in on Simon fucking someone else. I’ve never seen you cry like this, Everly. You bounce back time after time after time. But not today. Not after Chris.”
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Everly’s lips trembled. She pressed her fingers to them, worked to gather her thoughts. Letting out a slow, careful breath, she lowered her hand. “That was just a buildup of everything. I’m sorry for that.”
Stacey’s jaw dropped, and she stood up again. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to know that I’m not going anywhere no matter what. Cry all over me, snap at me when I do something stupid, say no every single time I ask you to go to a new pub or restaurant. I don’t care. But don’t shut me out. Open up to me. How long have you been crazy about Chris? How the hell can you say he’s never been in love? Have you not seen the way that man looks at you?”
Everly shook her head, unable to process that. She stood up, set the blanket on the back of the couch. “That’s not true. It was just attraction built up over time. It doesn’t matter.” She turned and faced Stacey. “I can’t think about him right now. It hurts. I never learn. I believe my parents every time they say this is the last time, and I’m still surprised the next time. I go out with guys that I know aren’t right for me because then I can say I always knew. The few times I’ve taken a chance, let myself think it might work out differently, it always blows up in my face. I told him I’d choose him. He said the same, but he was never really in a position to make that true.” Not if he’d always planned to leave.
She walked closer, wrapped her arms around Stacey, and rested her head on her shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of best friend and strawberry shampoo. “I was going to tell you everything, I swear. You’re my person, too. It just all seemed to happen so fast.” She pulled back, gave Stacey a watery don’t-stay-mad-at-me smile that worked because Stacey rolled her eyes and shoved Everly’s shoulder.
“I just want things to go back to the way they were. I have you. My job. I don’t need more than that.” Although that made her sound quite needy, didn’t it?
“One of those things is a guarantee. The other—” Stacey bit her lip.
Everly’s heart hammered. “What?”
“We have a few emails to read.”
“Okay.” She said the word slowly, watching Stacey’s face.
“Mr. N. Jansen emailed all employees. Effective immediately, the station is in the process of being sold. There’s no guarantee we’ll get to keep our jobs or that the station will even stay open.”
Everly looked around as if there were a hidden camera, not understanding what Stacey was saying. She’d only left work this morning. How on earth?
She stared at Stacey. “How long did I sleep?”
Though there was absolutely nothing funny about this moment, Stacey burst out laughing. She slung her arm around Everly’s shoulder and leaned her head against hers.
“Quite a while. We’re going to be okay, Evs. No matter what.”
Everly had absolutely no idea how her friend could say that and believe it.
[39]
Everly woke up the next morning feeling like she’d drunk too much. Grabbing her phone from the nightstand, she sat up and, bleary-eyed, checked her email again, hoping last night had been a nightmare.
She didn’t pull up the email from Chris’s dad, though. The newest one caught her eye.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Moving forward
Hi, everyone. I wanted to take a moment to apologize again for a few things. The first being not telling you my father owned the station. There’s a wall that goes up immediately when new management is introduced, and when I joined the station last year, I wanted to avoid that as much as possible. I didn’t want to be judged one way or the other based on who I was. I didn’t expect that you’d all become more than employees. The family atmosphere you’ve created, despite the numerous changes you’ve all endured over the past few years, is remarkable and commendable. I’m honored to have been part of that. I regret any hurt I’ve caused by not being entirely honest.
Going forward, that will change. I know that you’ve all received the email from my father. He wasted no time there. It’s true. The station is being sold, but I want all of you to know that your jobs are safe. I know I don’t deserve your trust, but if you can find a way to do that, trust me, for just a bit, I will explain everything. I need to return to New York, but I will be back. In my absence, Mari will take over as station manager, and Mason will produce his own show.
When I get back, I’d like to have a meeting with all of you. By then, I’ll have more answers to the many questions I’m sure you’ll have. For now, please know that in all the years I’ve been jumping into my father’s newest acquisitions, I’ve never felt more at home than I did with all of you.
Sincerely,
Chris
Blinking away the tears that formed, Everly wiped her cheeks with one hand, staring at the email with the other. He was returning to New York. The station was sold. Your job is fine. Why didn’t that feel like more of a relief?
Everly pulled up another email. It was the post she’d never made public. She’d emailed it to herself and posted an entirely different one for the station website. That one had explained that her heart wasn’t ready to make a choice despite some great options. It had, in her opinion, been funny and poignant—closure to an experience that had taught her more than she’d ever expected.
A text popped up on her screen.
STACEY: You okay?
EVERLY: Yeah. Just got up. Reading the email.
STACEY: I figured. You okay?
EVERLY: You just asked that.
STACEY: I know, but you lied the first time.
Everly laughed out loud as she typed.
EVERLY: I guess I don’t need to avoid work today.
STACEY: Is that what you’d have done? Weird. I thought you were shy, not a coward.
Surprise widened her gaze.
EVERLY: Ouch.
STACEY: We all have our quirks. Mine is being bluntly honest.
EVERLY: Noted.
STACEY: Will you call him? Text him? Have his babies?
Renewed sadness swamped her, but she didn’t cry. No more tears.
EVERLY: It was over before it began.
STACEY: Coward.
EVERLY: I’m going to let that go because I cried all over you last night.
STACEY: And stopped me from getting some.
EVERLY: Your birthday is coming up. I’ll get you what you got me.
STACEY: Say it. Or type it. Come on.
Everly’s cheeks heated.
EVERLY: I need to get ready for work.
STACEY: You can’t type it, you’re not going to buy one. Besides, I have plenty.
Everly shook her head, laughing, the sadness mingling in with the humor creating a strange juxtaposition in her chest.
EVERLY: Ever hear of online shopping?
STACEY: Well played. I look forward to my birthday, then. See you soon?
EVERLY: Always. Stace?
STACEY: Evs.
EVERLY: Thanks.
STACEY: Always.
She set her phone back on the nightstand. As she got ready for her day, she did her best not to think about Chris and how the station would feel different without him. How everything would feel different without him.
“Good thing it wasn’t love,” she told her reflection when she stepped out of the shower. She dried her hair and did her best to keep her brain busy, but it kept flitting back to Chris.
Good thing it had been over before it began, because she couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if she’d gone all in. If she’d told him that he consumed her thoughts and made her want things she was scared to want. Good thing she hadn’t had a chance to give him more of herself. To give him everything. She just didn’t understand why, if her brain knew it was a good thing, her heart couldn’t get on board.
* * *
Over the next week, Everly did her best to focus on her job. She went each day, did all the things she’d always done, and went home to enjoy her nice, quiet life. The ne
w promotion Mari had suggested for Mason’s show, which included a cruise with the deejay, had listeners spinning with excitement. Despite that, she was surprised to see daily comments popping up on her final post. She hadn’t given their listeners much: a few well-edited paragraphs of appreciation, how it’d take more time to find the one, but they’d always share music. It was a cop-out, but a succinct one. Why was everyone still invested? Her heart ached when she thought of how things had worked out—even if just for a moment.
* * *
The week after everything happened, she stood outside a nondescript building, hesitating to pull open the door and walk through. This could lead to all sorts of issues. She could regret it immediately or, worse, after a few weeks. She heard a car door shut behind her, the footsteps across the concrete.
“Are you waiting for me or just scared to go in?” Her mom approached her, pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“A little of both.”
“Oh, baby girl,” her mom sighed. “I’m sorry we messed you up.”
Everly laughed, shocked at the statement. She turned to face her mom. “I didn’t say you did. I just said I couldn’t get caught up in your relationship back-and-forth. Aside from that, you and Dad are great parents. I love you. So much. You know that, right?” Did no one know how she actually felt about them? Kind of hard when you keep that locked down to avoid rejection. Totally Stacey’s voice in her head. She pushed the thought away.
Her mom put an arm around her. “We do. But we also know we’ve always treated you as more of an equal than a child, and maybe we’ve thrown things at you that you weren’t ready to absorb. It was unfair.”
“Just to say, Mom? I’m absolutely never going to be ready for you to throw condoms at me.”
Her mom chuckled, stared at the glass doors with Everly. “We learned our lesson. Speaking of which, your dad and I start counseling tonight.”
Everly turned her head, searched her mother’s expression. “You do?”
Ten Rules for Faking It Page 33