Chapter Text
Much like the aftermath of Val's bachelorette party, red plastic cups littered the back deck railing, and sat underneath chairs. Smoke and melted wax lingered from the kitchen, the thirty-five taking to the lighter after my third attempt. The good luck candle went first, while the rapidly melting thirty-five stayed lit with several aggressive puffs of breath.
Val rolled her eyes, though her smile stayed put.
“It's a trick candle, right?”
“No, I swear on my life. Maybe you didn't make a good enough wish, and the candle won't go out until you're honest with it.”
She snorted a laugh, making me jump away with a pinch on the hip.
“That's payback for everything you've done to me, ever.”
“It's much better than a hard stiletto kick in the ass, so thanks.”
Worried she'd be able to see how much deeper I was falling then, I thought of her wishing for a new water heater, and I knew my expression glazed over within seconds, everything dangerous scooting into the far, far reaches of my brain with a glass of warm milk. I still smelled like the strawberry Val threw in my lap once a slice of cake sat in front of her. She either did it for a laugh, or as more payback for something I'd do in the future.
“Ten so far,” I said to Devin, tossing them into the trash bag he held open.
“Don't know about you, but I feel like I need to apologize to my parents while also rushing to hand in a late term paper, pretending I'm not the least bit hungover.”
He gave a short laugh, nodding in agreement. During last week's Saturday dinner, I decided to give him one more chance before sending him to the the dugout. I still didn't know where I leaned in terms of how I felt about him, but as long as my insides didn't boil the second he opened his mouth, I knew there was hope. Just had to keep our conversations safe and light until the end of time.
He was starting to catch on to my sense of humor, and I was starting to form a clearer picture of his personality. Where I used humor at every open opportunity, he used it in increments like too much would inject poison into our veins.
He'd never see me how Val did, and we might never fully connect, but at least the head-hellos would stay in the past. After Devin and I hauled off four heavy bags of trash and not a single cup or scrap of wrapping paper remained, I pulled a small, rectangular box from my purse, shining in silver paper. Wide-eyed monsters danced all over it. Val choke-laughed on her sip of birthday merlot.
“Shit. Sorry,” I said, smile vanishing. She started to calm down after a few thunks on the back.
“Better?”
She nodded, coughed, and pinched my hip again, hard enough to make me yelp.
“Fuck, I said I was sorry! The paper was so obnoxious and fitting to this gift, I had to use it, okay?”
I saw Devin out of the corner of my eye, having just stepped out the back door. He half-smiled at me, shook his head, and disappeared into the house.
“You bought me five gifts Savvy, in case you were unaware.”
“Five's a lot? On what universe? They only took forever to unwrap because I double-wrapped them.”
“Yeah, and everyone loved you for that.”
“So they'll be a little late for work tomorrow morning, and you're the only true friend I have left in the world. Big deal. Just open it.”
She plucked the gift from my fingers, glittering eyes in slits, wearing a dangerous 'if anything jumps out at me, you're dead' smile. The paper fell away with ease, though I'd taped down the lid for extra security rather than aggravation.
A heart half attached to a thin chain sat inside, shining in very real twenty-four caret gold. She smacked the arm of her chair, the box quivered in her lap and I caught it before it could fall into the pool.
Fully recovered again, she brought it closer to her face and frowned.
“You gave me the wrong one, this one has your name.”
“I know what I did.”
I looked away, thinking of the water heater again, the noise they sometimes made. But I don't think I was quick enough. Her face softened and her eyes grew a little sad. She looked away for a second, bit down on her lip.
Oh well. Let her see the truth. She deserves to know, and I can't keep up this charade forever.
“That's not how it works, though.”
I waved a hand.
“Have I ever played by the rules? More fun to wear each other's. And it'll have the added bonus of confusing new people.”
She laughed, the sound soft and careful.
“Going by that logic, yours should say Tarzan.”
I forced myself to meet her gaze while she fastened the necklace. My heart might've ached, but at least it wouldn't continue to be unbearable in its weight. We'd be okay. We'd have our Saturdays, and we'd be okay.