Just Like Fate. Cat Patrick
Gram says. “It’s just my time.”
My brother darts a look at me, his face ghost pale. He touches my hand where I’m gripping his arm. “It’s the medication,” he reassures me. “She’s out of it.”
“No, I am not, Theodore,” my grandmother says, matter-of-fact. Natalie actually takes a step back; she looks like she might hurl right on the white-tiled floor. “But I’m not going to sit and waste my last breath when you can’t even get along at my deathbed.”
“Ma,” Aunt Claudia starts to say, when my grandmother turns to her. They both pause, an unspoken mother-daughter look passing between them. The tears in Aunt Claudia’s eyes brim over, and my grandmother reaches to brush her hair back, the same way she’s done for me a million times.
“Let me talk to the kids,” Gram says quietly, gentle words that make my aunt look down. She waits for a minute, then leans to kiss Gram’s cheek before walking out. My mom, stunned and devastated that she has to leave, can’t seem to move until Albert comes over to take her elbow. He guides her from the room, and when she looks back, my gram winks at her.
I can’t help it—I start to sob.
“Take her outside, Teddy,” Gram says. “I want to talk to Natalie for a minute.”
My brother puts his arm around me and forces me to the door; I turn and watch Natalie as she goes to lay her head on Gram’s shoulder.
“Now, hush,” Gram says, brushing her hair.
Their moment is private, intimate. I feel like I’m peeking into a relationship I didn’t know they had, and I’m jealous. I’m jealous that Gram didn’t ask for me first.
“Come on, Coco,” Teddy says, pulling me out. And when the door shuts behind us, I’m suddenly adrift in my loneliness as I wait for my grandmother’s last words, hoping that she lasts long enough to give them to me.
I’m staring listlessly out the passenger window as Simone pulls onto Dover Street. The radio is blaring Electric Freakshow; Felicity and Gwen sing along—purposely off-key—in the back. I check my phone to see if anyone has texted from the hospital, but no one has. I’m suddenly so alone—even in a car filled with my friends.
“Check it out, Linus.” Simone has to shout over the music. I turn to look out the windshield and immediately groan. Cars line both sides of the street, all leading up to a house that might as well have a banner that reads PLEASE CALL THE COPS. We drive by once looking for parking, earning a few catcalls from the lawn dwellers, then turn around and try again.
“I’m pretty sure you said low-key college party when you picked me up,” I say, looking pointedly at Simone.
“Did I?” she asks innocently, avoiding my glare. The day has gone dark, but there are only a few stars out. The sky is strange tonight, and I can’t help but feel strange too.
I’m suddenly nervous, even though the party doesn’t look exactly wild. There’s a dude wearing a plaid sweater-vest, kicking a hacky sack in the driveway. And yet the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I check my phone again. Nothing.
We end up parking three blocks away, a fact that Felicity complains about the whole time we walk through the crisp October air. Gwen nearly kills herself in the spike-heeled boots she’s wearing, and when she’s not groaning about the “hike,” Felicity chatters on about looking for a quality guy. She calls dibs on the sweater-vest.
Although Simone and I have been hanging out with them since last year, it’s pretty clear this is more of a convenience friendship than anything. Lunches and parties—that’s about the extent of our interactions. I’m not close to them like I am with Simone. She and I are forever.
Just then Simone loops her arm through mine. “Guess who I heard will be here tonight?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Joel.”
My stomach flips. “That’s nice,” I say, trying not to give anything away. But her laugh echoes down the street.
“Oh, yes. It is very nice. And from what I hear, Lauren is currently out of town visiting family.” I abruptly stop walking, nearly pulling Simone’s arm from its socket. Felicity and Gwen keep going, calling back that they’ll meet us inside. When Simone turns to me, I stare her down.
“You knew this all along, didn’t you?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. “Is that why we’re really here?”
Simone’s red-stained lips pull into a broad smile. “It’s not like your longing looks in Joel Ryder’s direction have gone unnoticed. Don’t ever say I never did anything for you, Linus.” She smacks a kiss on my cheek and walks up the driveway to the house, giving the sweater-vest a teasing whistle as she passes. He salutes in response.
As I stand watching after her, listening to the sounds of muffled music leaking from the front door, my thoughts turn back to Gram.
I would do anything for her. Anything in the world. But instead of sitting at her side, I’m here at a party. I can’t help but think that maybe my sister is right—I am selfish. I sigh heavily.
You’re here; make the most of it, I think, rationalizing that I’ll be back with Gram in a few hours. I lift my chin and walk inside.
There’s a couple standing inside the entry, blocking my way as they argue over whether or not he was checking out his ex. I clear my throat and quietly say “excuse me,” but neither budges. Simone gets farther down the hall and I try to interrupt again, this time earning a glare from the girlfriend. I’ve started to wonder if I’ll be stuck in the breezy entryway for the rest of my life when I feel someone push in behind me.
“Excuse you,” I say, holding up a palm to stop from being flattened between the door and the wall. The pusher—a blond, blue-eyed typical college random—looks at me in surprised amusement.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” he says, too earnest to be serious. “It’s just that sometimes I don’t know my own superhuman strength.” Just to prove it, he pretends to crash through the door—mouthing explosions and slow-motion roars—before shutting it gently behind him.
I can’t help it; I laugh. “Forgiven,” I say. “But they might be your kryptonite.” I motion to the couple, who have now reached complete breakdown status. “Good luck getting past them. They’re like the bouncers from hell.” The guy glances at them, sizing up the situation before taking a spot against the closed door next to me.
“This might take a while,” he says. “From what I hear, Jared there is still into his ex. Gertrude isn’t pleased.”
“You know them?” I ask.
He meets my eyes. “Uh, no. Do you know any Gertrudes? It’s a fairly uncommon name. Wait, that’s not your name, is it?”
I move closer to the wall, putting a little more space between me and Mr. Hilarious. “I think you’re just trying to find out my name,” I say.
“Busted. Well?”
The couple in front of us finally stops talking and instead embraces in what can only be described as a make-up hug, one with roaming hands and whispers. I start to worry that I’ll somehow get sucked into their vortex of drama when my new friend murmurs next to me.
“Looks like Gerdy forgives him. It’s sweet really. Such a bright future, those two.”
“Yeah, well. I don’t think she’ll be as sweet to his ex, Belinda. After all, they used to be best friends.”
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