Come As You Are

by Lauren Blakely

  “I have to tell him, don’t I?” I squeak out. “Even though I’m not involved with Flynn, I have to tell my editor.”

  He rests his palm on my hand, giving a gentle squeeze. “I read the piece. I think you did an amazing job. But I’m not unbiased either. I love you to the ends of the earth and back, and I think everything you do is amazing. I tried to give it a critical eye, and I think it’s incredible. But what if my take on it is colored by how much I love you? And what if your approach was colored by your feelings for Flynn?”

  I groan and drop my forehead onto the table. “This was such a big chance for me. And I blew it by falling for this guy.”

  He rubs my forearm. “I don’t know that falling for someone is ever blowing it. I don’t know if I have any answers as to what you should do. But I don’t think letting yourself feel something real and true, especially after what happened to you, is a bad thing.”

  I raise my face. “But it is. I have bills to pay.”

  “Sabrina,” he says, his voice firm and strong. “We’ll stretch out the loans longer.”

  I shake my head vehemently. “No. I made a promise to myself when Mom left that I’d look out for you. I made a promise to the state too. A legal promise.”

  “I can look out for myself. I don’t have a ton of debt from college. I can handle all the loans from grad school.”

  I shake my head. “This is your dream. How many men today want to be pastors? It’s noble and beautiful, and you’re mine,” I say, pointing at him. “You’re mine, and don’t you forget it.”

  He laughs, shaking his head. “I know, but being yours doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice your happiness.”

  I bristle at his characterization. “I’m not sacrificing my happiness. Dude, I have other bills too. Rent, and utilities, and food. That stuff you need to fuel your body every day. You’ve heard of it?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Yes, Sabrina.”

  “And living. Subways aren’t free. Nor is internet access. Who can live without that? See? I need a J-O-B regardless, so don’t start thinking it’s all about you.”

  “Your tough-girl big-sister routine is as entertaining as it was when I was fifteen.”

  I smile and cross my arms, making it clear how sure I am that my decision is my decision. “Good.”

  He drums his fingers on the table and softens his voice. “My point is, don’t do this for me. Don’t be so stoic for me. I’ll find a way. Schools are flexible. I’m sure we can work out a different payment plan. Would you let me do that? Talk to them and work something out?”

  “I’m going to get a job,” I say, standing firm.

  “You’ve insisted on the bills going to you. But perhaps I need to do the insisting now that you’re giving up something.”

  “Kevin, give me time,” I say, pleading. “Let me see what happens with the job.”

  “I have faith you’ll get it, and when you do, I don’t want any more help.”

  I scoff.

  He laughs.

  It’s a standoff, and soon I catch a train back to Manhattan, staring out the window as it pulls into the station, wondering what Flynn is up to tonight and if his heart feels like a lead weight too.

  When I reach my home, I email the article to Mr. Galloway.

  25

  Flynn

  * * *

  The ball screams toward me, and I lunge for it, slamming it with my racket, sending it reeling against the wall. The blue orb slams the backboard before careening in my sister’s direction. She grunts, reaching for it, stretching her entire body perpendicular in a mad effort to reach the whizzing object. But it soars past her and skitters to the ground.

  I pump a fist. “Yes.”

  Panting hard, she offers her hand. “Congrats, you determined bastard.”

  “Hey, it’s at least one thing I got right this week.”

  “I hardly think beating me in a game of racquetball is the one thing you got right this week.”

  “It feels that way since I botched asking Sabrina if she wanted to pursue anything more.”

  Olivia shoots me a sympathetic smile. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

  “Royally.”

  She taps my shoulder with her racket. “What really sucks is that you’ve finally met somebody who isn’t into you for your money, and you can’t have her.”

  “Yes. Thank you for the reminder. Want to rub it in more?”

  “I meant that as a good thing.”

  “How is that good?” I grab a bottle of water and down some.

  “Because you knew where you stood with her. She didn’t use you. She did the opposite of use you,” Olivia says, picking up a towel and wiping her neck with it.

  “True,” I admit. “I knew where I stood with her heart. And I know where I stand with her life—not in it. I mean, what am I supposed to do?” I force out a laugh. “Buy the magazine?”

  Olivia’s eyes become billboards, flashing the words aha. “That’s not a bad idea. That’d be a hell of a big gesture.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think Sabrina will go for that.”

  “But you could do it. That’s kind of crazy and amazing. You could buy the magazine and offer her a job there. Why not?”

  I shake my head, dragging a hand through my hair. “She wouldn’t want me to. Ironic, isn’t it? I’ve been with a woman who wanted me for money. I finally meet someone who has literally zero interest in my wallet, and I can’t even use said wallet to my advantage.”

  “That means you have to rely on your heart,” she says, tapping my chest for emphasis. “And let her know how much you love her.”

  I straighten my spine at those words. Let her know how much you love her.

  “You told her you’re in love with her, right?” Olivia continues.

  I open my mouth to speak, but it turns out I’m speechless.

  “Falling in love with her? You told her you’re falling in love with her, at least?” she asks.

  I shake my head.

  My sister rolls her eyes. “Men. You never learn.”

  “You’re saying I should have told her that?” Maybe the cushion wasn’t what she needed. Or maybe I offered the wrong cushion.

  Olivia raps the side of my head with her knuckles. “How does anyone think you’re a genius? Does the gray matter even work?”

  “You don’t think it’s coming on too strong to tell her I’m falling in love with her?”

  “Do you think she’s falling in love with you?”

  I cycle back through the time we’ve spent together—our kiss in the costume shop, the way she looked at me at softball, the sound of her voice when we walked and talked.

  I smile stupidly. “Yeah.”

  Olivia moves closer, getting in my face. “Then how do you know what would happen unless you truly put your heart out? You’ve finally met someone you’re crazy about, and that means you need to put everything on the line.”

  “But I’m not the one who stands to lose so much. How do I convince her? Without, you know, buying the magazine?”

  “Hey, I still think that’s a fine idea,” she says with a wink. Then she turns more serious. “But there are things you could say to her . . .”

  And she’s right. There are so many things I’ve left unsaid.

  Sabrina

  * * *

  Courtney encourages me like a coach. “Come on, you can do it.”

  I crunch higher, my eyes squeezing shut, my core shouting at me to make it stop. “Whoever invented core exercises is the devil.”

  Courtney laughs. “Yes, whoever did is indeed the worst person in the world. But core is so good for you.”

  I’m at Courtney’s gym the next morning, and she’s pretending she’s a personal trainer. That basically equates to her torturing me endlessly.

  Grabbing an exercise mat, she flops down next to me and says it’s time for bicycle crunches.

  I hold my hands to my cheeks and affect a scream, Edward Munch–style. “Nooooooo. That’s the ninth circle
of hell.”

  Laughing, she nudges me as she lifts her knees and embarks on showing off how awesome she is at biking on her back. “You can do it. I have faith in your stomach muscles.”

  “My stomach muscles are Grumpy Cat today. Just like me. We hate everything.”

  “You’re in a fun mood.”

  “Oh, sorry. I meant to be more chipper, but I had my heart slaughtered.”

  Her eyes widen as she crunches. “See? I knew you really liked him.”

  I groan. “Of course I really like him. I told you everything. He’s wonderful, and amazing, and incredible, and this situation is absolutely like some ridiculous curse of the universe. It’s like my cursed wedding dress. Like Ray leaving me for no reason.”

  She crunches as she talks, and it’s impressive. That must be some Guinness World Record feat, akin to contortionism or pulling off twenty-four hours’ worth of jumping jacks. “It’s kind of crazy that you finally met somebody who makes you feel like you can take a chance again, but you feel like you can’t take a chance with him.”

  I sigh and drop down on the mat, my entire body going floppy and flat. “I can’t take a chance with him.”

  Courtney shrugs as she cycles her legs. “Maybe you can.”

  “If there was a way, I would’ve found it. I swear I would have.”

  “This isn’t the Lost City of Atlantis, Sabrina.”

  I shoot her a look. “I’m not saying it is.”

  She hums. “You kind of are.”

  I sigh heavily. “So, what are you saying, Courtney?”

  “I’m saying that taking a chance with him isn’t some great secret mystery to unlock. It’s not a code to crack. It’s making a choice.”

  I arch a brow. “It’s that easy? Just choose the dish from the appetizer list and have him for dinner?”

  Courtney quirks her lips. “I suspect you’d like having him for dinner every night. Which is my point. You can choose Flynn. No one is holding your feet to the fire except you.”

  I open my mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand and shakes her head, still crunching. “What are you going to do? Give up perfect guy after perfect guy?”

  “He’s the only perfect guy I’ve ever met,” I grumble.

  “Exactly,” she says triumphantly. “And you’re letting him go because you think you don’t deserve it. Because you can’t make time for it. Because you’ll never find another job again. Because of your brother. Because of, because of, because of. Jobs come and go, Sabrina. But good men?” She stops mid-cycle and sits up, ceasing crunching. “They don’t come around often. More like once in a blue moon.”

  “He is pretty amazing,” I concede.

  “Maybe it’s time to take care of yourself. Maybe this time, do what you want because you deserve it, not because it’s the ‘right thing to do.’ Do it because this is the only thing that makes sense to your heart.”

  I inhale deeply, processing her advice, then narrow my eyes at her. “Stop being so wise.”

  “I can’t help it. It comes naturally to me. Like crunches.”

  And just like crunches, following her advice will be hard.

  But what if it’s worth it?

  What if he’s the chance I should be taking?

  I flash back to my conversation with Kevin yesterday, to the questions he posed, to the truth I’ve known all along.

  I know what I have to do. I have to do the right thing.

  But I can also do the only thing I want for my heart.

  Because she’s right. You don’t let a once-in-a-blue-moon man pass you by.

  Flynn

  * * *

  I shoot at a cardboard cutout of a building. Dylan rounds the corner and aims at a guy we know who runs a food delivery app. “Take that,” he mutters, pointing at the guy’s back with his laser gun.

  A beam of red light knocks the guy down. The dude falls dramatically and curses at Dylan. My brother simply moves on, hunting the next opponent. He’s a competitive bastard, and I’m playing laser tag with him in his CEO game at Chelsea Piers.

  Dylan careens around the corner, taking risk after risk, firing and amassing the most points. That’s one of the things I’ve always admired about my brother. He’s more fearless than I am. He takes more chances.

  He was always the one who was willing to jump. I was the thinker in our partnership.

  But as I watch him giving his all, playing his heart out, I realize I could learn from him. Like Sabrina said, there’s something to our twin-ness. Maybe I need some of his Wonder Twin power.

  When we’re done, I smack him on the back and say, “You’re freaking awesome. You just go for it.”

  “Hell, yeah. Balls to the wall. Give it everything.”

  As we leave, I power my phone back on, intending to click open my text messages and ask Sabrina if she’s free to see me. I’m ready to go for it. Give it everything.

  Once my phone boots up, I find a note from her.

  * * *

  Angel: Could you meet me at Gramercy Park tonight? I hear you have a key.

  26

  Sabrina

  * * *

  Dear Mr. Galloway,

  * * *

  Thank you so much for the opportunity to write for Up Next. I’m so grateful that you gave me this chance. I loved every moment of working on this piece. I’ve written what I think is a fair and accurate story that dives into who Flynn is and illustrates why he is a next-generation visionary.

  I turned in the piece last night, as you know, but in the interest of full disclosure, I need to inform you that while reporting this story I’ve developed feelings for Mr. Parker, and I acted upon those feelings. I would like to tell you those emotions didn’t affect what I wrote. I hope they didn’t, but that is for you to decide.

  I want you to know the facts. I will await your decision, and I remain grateful for the opportunity.

  * * *

  Sincerely,

  * * *

  Sabrina Granger

  * * *

  As I read the letter one last time, my stomach swoops, but then everything settles down.

  A brand-new calm spreads through me. I’m no longer a caged lion.

  Perhaps that’s from knowing I’m making the right choice. I might not get the prize. I don’t have a safety net. But I hope there’s a better prize waiting for me. The best prize.

  When I look back on this moment five years from now, whether I’m with Flynn or not, I’ll know I took the chance my heart was telling me to take.

  Even if your heart has been broken, it doesn’t mean you have to put it on ice forever. It can thaw. Mine did, and sometimes it’s worth taking the leap without a net.

  Flynn is that leap.

  He’s worth it.

  There’s no what-if about it.

  My finger hovers over the send button, ready to fire it off, when a new message pops up in my inbox.

  It’s one from Mr. Galloway.

  It startles me, and I actually jump. I look behind me. It’s as if I’m being watched, which is a ridiculous thing to think. But there it is—the thought in my head.

  Maybe he already knows.

  Maybe Kermit got to him.

  I click to open the email.

  * * *

  Dear Sabrina,

  * * *

  Could you please come in tomorrow morning? We can discuss the piece then. It’s quite good. But there are some things I need to talk to you about.

  * * *

  Sincerely,

  * * *

  Bob Galloway

  * * *

  I wait for the note to hurt. I wait for the fear.

  It doesn’t come.

  Whatever he has to tell me, I can handle it. I’ve made my choice. I chose love.

  I save my note to him in my drafts folder. Some things are better said in person. I will tell him tomorrow.

  Tonight is for me.

  I slip into an emerald-green dress I finished a few days ago, pop in two pairs of angel-shaped
stud earrings, clip one side of my hair in a silver ladybug barrette, and head to what I hope is the first of many dates with Flynn Parker.

  27

  Sabrina

  * * *

  The wrought iron gates loom before me.

  Tall spires let me peek into a world I’ve never entered.

  Not just this park but what it represents: wealth, privilege, money.

  A walkway cuts across the land beyond the locked gate, and gloriously high trees, bursting with bottle-green leaves, wrap their arms over the grounds, shielding those rare few who have access.

  I breathe it in. It’s an enclave. A private square for the privileged.

  I’ve been on the outside looking in, even though I never longed for this much. I’ve never been a girl who wanted riches showered on her. I simply wanted better choices.

  Or really, I wanted choices, period.

  But in the end, I wouldn’t do anything differently.

  I stand by all the decisions I’ve made, including the one that brought me here tonight.

  Shoes click on the sidewalk. It could be anyone—a businessman, a father, a hipster. This is a city of millions.

  But what if it’s him?

  I turn, and he takes my breath away.

  Flynn Parker is so handsome. He’s lean and tall, and his hair flops deliciously on his forehead, and his green eyes twinkle with excitement when he sees me.

  But it’s his lips I zero in on.

  Those soft, wonderful lips I want on me again.

  He closes the distance, and I have to go first, so as soon as he reaches me I say, “I want a do-over. I want a new beginning. I want the chance to say yes to us. It’s only been two days, and I miss you like crazy, and I can’t stand not having an excuse to see you. I want us to explore park benches and abandoned subways, and visit the Met, and kiss in the Great Hall, and go to costume parties dressed like Marilyn Monroe and Joe DiMaggio.” I draw a quick breath, then say the hardest and the easiest words. “Because I love you, Flynn Parker.”