Honey Girl

by Morgan Rogers

  “And which one did you come for?” Grace leans against an orange tree. If another breeze comes through, it might just take her with it.

  Yuki sighs. “I thought about going to the wedding,” she says. “But I couldn’t. It made me think about...”

  “Us,” Grace breathes out, and Yuki nods in agreement. “I thought about you the whole time. I missed you, like my body knew if I was standing at a wedding altar, you were supposed to be there with me.”

  Grace takes in the girl in front of her. She’s wearing a high-waisted leather skirt with a striped button-up tucked in. Her face is done up with shimmering, dramatic makeup. There are metallic barrettes holding her bangs back. She’s barefoot, and her feet are speckled with earth and soil. She is beautiful, and Grace aches for her.

  “Were you really out here walking?” Grace asks. “Were you out here the whole time?”

  Yuki shrugs again. She doesn’t meet Grace’s eyes, not yet. “I can see the appeal, I guess,” she says. “Almost got myself lost walking in these groves, trying to figure out if I wanted to talk to you. I was so angry. I am still so angry. But I’m here, and I hate to waste a trip.”

  Grace swallows. It hurts. It all hurts. “Well, I’m glad you came,” she says. “I should have asked you myself, but I don’t know if I could have handled it if you said no.”

  Yuki meets her eyes finally. “Don’t you know, Honey Girl?” She plays with her collar. It’s pressed neat, like she wanted to make an impression. “I said yes to you once, and I haven’t learned how to say anything else, since.”

  Grace steps forward. “I’m guessing you got my recording. I was—I don’t know how you do it,” she confesses. Yuki stares at her, illuminated by moonlight. “It was scary. It was terrifying. I don’t know how it doesn’t terrify you to get on your show and—”

  “Talk about monsters?”

  “Be honest,” she says, and Yuki’s teeth clack together. “How you can be vulnerable to so many people. I’m not quite used to it yet.”

  Yuki mirrors Grace and takes a step forward, too. She waves her phone. “Is that what this was? You being honest and vulnerable? You said a lot of things.”

  Grace nods. She bites her tongue hard, but not enough to bleed.

  “Was it true?” Yuki presses. “That you’re sorry for leaving me? That you’re looking for teaching jobs in New York?” She crosses her arms, glaring. “That you—” Her voice gets stuck.

  Honesty, Grace thinks, is jumping into the blue-green sea. It is letting the salt burn your lungs. It is about reaching out at the bottom of the sea and saying, I heard you singing. I heard the song you sang for me. Stay, please, with me.

  “That I love you?” she finishes. “It was all true. I was scared and angry and trying so hard to be the perfect everything. I’m learning to deal with all of that, but yes, I love you. That’s not something I have to work through.”

  Yuki lets out a slow, trembling breath. “I didn’t understand exactly what you were going through. I didn’t understand that it would make you leave,” she says. “I just wanted you to be with me. I wanted you to see that maybe I could be part of your perfect plan. I would have tried to live up to the great Grace Porter for the rest of my fucking life. Because,” she says softly, “that’s what you do when you’re upside down in love with someone.”

  Grace laughs. One of the hollow, aching spaces inside her starts to fill. She shoves her hands in her suit pockets. “And what about now?” she asks. “Are you still upside down in love with the great Grace Porter?”

  “Our friends coordinated this whole scheme of getting me down here,” Yuki says. “You think I’d let them do all that for a girl I don’t love?” She ducks her head and wipes her eyes. “Grace Porter,” she murmurs, “why did you leave me behind?”

  Grace looks at the girl in front of her. “Remember how you asked me what best really meant to me? What does best mean anyway, if I’m not happy? What is best if the people I care about come second? I realized my idea of best left no space for anything that didn’t tear me apart in the process. It barely left space for me. I didn’t know how to deal with that, how to reckon with that truth, that revelation, so I left. I left you behind, and I’m—fuck, Yuki. I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” Yuki says, looking shaken by Grace’s openness. “I never meant to put more pressure on you. I shouldn’t have expected you to have all the answers, you know? God, nobody does. I certainly don’t. I just wanted to be one of your answers. One of the things you would fight for, too.”

  She stares Grace down, her voice going fierce. “I’m still so angry with you, but if we do this, if we keep doing this, you don’t get to disappear on me again. We talk and we fight and we stay. We said in good times and bad, and I don’t know about you, but I have been having a bad time these last few months. Would not recommend.”

  Grace lets out a real laugh now. Her vision is blurred. “Would not recommend,” she agrees. “Good times and bad,” she repeats, “I’ll be here. You asked me, you asked all your listeners, and I’m a few months late, but I’m here. I’m listening. Lonely creature to lonely creature. Now, I’m asking you,” Grace says. It hurts. She keeps going. “I’m asking you.”

  Yuki nods. She looks past Grace at the big tent filled with carefree people and sun-gold lights. They reflect in her eyes.

  “Okay,” Yuki says. “Ask me.” It sounds like an echo.

  There is a siren singing Grace a song. It must have looked into the very core of her to know which song to sing. It is a sad song, because sometimes the world is sad. It is a hopeful song, because sometimes the world is hopeful.

  “Ask me.”

  Grace asks.

  Yuki catches the words in her mouth, and she tastes citrus-sweet. Yuki kisses her, and Grace is lit up from the inside, like the sun has been buried within her all along. She is favored, or maybe the gold lights from the wedding tent illuminate what she’s been searching for.

  Grace asks. She does not hesitate. The universe waits for her; the girl in front of her waits for her.

  * * *

  “Grace Porter,” Yuki says, when all the guests have gone, and the house is quiet with just the few people staying. Sunrise approaches in the distance, and the yellow and gold and honey rays reach out toward them. “Did I ever tell you why I was in Las Vegas?”

  Grace looks at her. Yuki lies in her lap, mouth kiss-swollen, fingers curled around the bottle of champagne. “No,” she says quietly. “You never told me.”

  Yuki smiles. “Monster hunting,” she says. “We crowdfunded to get that trip paid for, and I didn’t find a thing.” She glances up. “I was so frustrated about going back home with nothing. I went out on my last night to at least have some fun. And then I found you.”

  “And then you found me.”

  Yuki shivers when Grace runs fingers through her hair, careful of the barrettes. “Maybe you heard me,” Yuki says, “that night in the desert. Maybe you heard me singing you a song even back then.” She holds her pinky out. “Finders keepers. No take-backs. Promise me.”

  Grace curls their pinkies together. “Promise,” she says. “No take-backs. You’re stuck with me now.”

  Yuki shrugs. “That’s okay. Heard there was a monster lurking down in these groves anyway.” She closes her eyes, like she trusts Grace will watch for the scary things in the lingering shadows. “Heard it was favored by the sun, even.”

  “Sounds like bullshit to me,” Grace tells her. “But I believe you,” she says. “Maybe I believe in your monster, too.”

  * * *

  Acknowledgments

  Honey Girl is a labor of love and community.

  First and foremost, it would not exist without the writers who did sessions with me every single day, all of us working so diligently and also complaining about how difficult it was to meet our word goals. This book would not exist without Na
tasha, who read every single chapter as it was written. For my very first audience of one, you mean the entire world. After it was written, Brie, you read the entire first draft. You gave me notes on what worked and what didn’t. You told me the notes that soared and the ones that fell flat. My work has always thrived under the weight of your proverbial red pen, and this is no exception. Ellen and Shooky, I still remember everything you said about that first draft. Thank you not just for your time, but for your kindness and attention and unwavering enthusiasm. The Honey Girl that exists today would not exist if I did not have y’all pushing me to new and extraordinary heights. You believed in this story before I even knew what it was.

  To my self-proclaimed mentors C+L, I learn something new from you every single day. Y’all are humble and welcoming and wise beyond measure. I hope I can pay it forward like you have done and continue to do. I hope I can pass along another author’s book one day and open the first of many doors so someone can perhaps take a chance on them, too. Y’all are the blueprint, and your work is more than just the books you write. It is the hands you extend to lift people like me up. I hope I can be as cool as you when I grow up.

  To the incredible team at Root Literary, spearheaded by the most badass agent in the biz, Holly Root, there are no words. Holly, you once told me my writing voice was like a vibrant blue house. There would be people who thought it was too much, not for them, not their cup of tea. And that was fine. You told me there would be people who loved that blue house. Thank you for loving the blue house. Thank you for fighting so fiercely for me. Any author who has you in their corner is on the winning team. I am so, so happy to work with you, and this is just the first blue house of many. We are going to paint this whole town.

  To the people bringing this book to life: Park Row Books, there is not a thank-you big enough. Roxanne, Lia, Lindsey, Linette and everyone involved with the Park Row/ Harlequin/HarperCollins team. I am so happy you all connected with my book and worked so hard to get it into the hands of many, many readers. It means everything. Laura Brown, you are an incredible editor, an incredible professional and an incredible ally to have to give this book a chance in the market. From our very first phone conversation, I knew you understood Honey Girl and what I wanted to say. You dug into the muck and the weeds and you helped me pull up the roots so the real story could be planted. Your ideas helped create a revision that sprouted from the ground something strong and distinct and spectacular. I consider Honey Girl a triumph, and that would not be without your expertise.

  The words inside are not just the heart of this book. Its essence has also been captured on the cover. This book would not be this book without Gigi Lau and Poppy Magda’s incredible vision. This book cover is one for the ages. In my opinion, it is one of the greatest I have ever seen. The talent and artistry and vision you both executed to give us this stunning portrait of Grace Porter is a remarkable feat.

  Thank you, Maureen and Dana. You were the first industry professionals I ever talked to about Honey Girl. You are bright and kind and passionate. Any book that you work on is a book that is good and valuable and needed. This world and this industry can be very difficult to navigate, but I know that the reins you hold are in good hands.

  I would not have reached this point at all without the support of my family. Mummy, thanks for always being on the other end of the phone. Thank you for helping me get to where I wanted to be my whole life. Thanks for teaching me that it is okay to fight for what I am owed. Thank you for always having an answer, whether I listen to it or not. Muffy, thank you for always listening. Your words of encouragement mean more than you know. Missy, you are the best sister anyone could ever ask for. I have loved you from the moment Muffa brought you home. You are my best friend, and everything I do is so you can be proud of me.

  To the amazing writing community that I now find myself a part of: y’all are magnificent. You all have phenomenal stories to tell. I am thankful for the words you write and the support you give. I am so proud to call you peers. I am so honored to own your work and to look forward to everything of yours in the future.

  Thank you to NAO, whose Saturn album became the soundtrack for each writing session. Thank you to KNJ, who told me to keep going. Who told me it was worth it if it relieves a pain from one hundred to ninety-nine or ninety-eight or ninety-seven. Thank you to my brain for its weird obsession with space and the ocean and the natural world. There is so very much of it to explore. Shout-out to fan fiction and fandom and tropes. You merely adopted AO3. I was born into LJ and FFN, molded by it.

  Thank you to Black girls. You are the inspiration, the culture, the center of it all.

  And finally, thank you to those who came before.

  This is only the beginning. Nice to meet you.

  ISBN-13: 9781488077500

  Honey Girl

  Copyright © 2021 by Morgan Rogers

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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