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Gia's eyes get soft. Dreamy. It's sweet. All this time and she's still the high school girl who giggled over their first kiss. She's still innocent. Cheery. Optimistic about the world.
Right now…
No, I'm not thinking about the test results.
I'm borrowing my sister's optimism.
And Dean's… well, I'm not sure how to describe Dean's outlook on life.
But I'm borrowing it.
"What was it that happened between the two of you? I think it was Chloe's junior year. One day, she went from going on and on about how much she hated you, to moping around the house in all black, hugging her sketchbook like it was her best friend." Gia's nose scrunches and she chews and swallows another broccoli floret. "I mean, it was barely different than normal. But it was noticeable."
I flip my sister off.
She returns the gesture with a hearty laugh. "See? She's always been kinda pissed. Not that I blame her. I was pissed at the universe after Mom."
Dean's eyes find mine. He raises a brow. You want to take this, or should I?
I nod go ahead.
He turns to Gia. "I was a stupid kid. Didn't realize what I had."
"So, you were always into Chloe?" she asks.
He looks to me. "I don't know what it is about you, sunshine, but you've always been under my skin."
"You know I'll kill you if you hurt her," Gia says.
Dean nods. "Wouldn't expect anything less."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chloe
Dad and Gia revel in the chance to embarrass me. They spill every mortifying story—the first time I gushed about Dean, the first time I ranted about him, the sex dream I shared with Gia in confidence (she pinkie swore!), the time I wore my lap suit to a pool party, the day my kindergarten teacher called my parents because she was worried my drawings were too downer.
When we leave, Gia says goodbye with a tight hug and a quiet whisper. "Call me as soon as you know the results."
I nod like I'll tell her.
I will. Eventually.
After I process this without everyone else's feelings hanging over me.
I let Dean drive. Let my thoughts wander as the city whizzes by the windows. Los Angeles may not have much of a skyline compared to New York or Seattle, but the tall buildings are beautiful in the dark.
There's something about Southern California. The fluorescent yellow of street and city lights turns the sky a soft blue. Casts a cream glow over the grey tree trunks, the green leaves, the off-white pavement, the charcoal roads.
The sounds of grunge fill the car. Dean doesn't ask what I'm thinking and I don't offer. I just rest my head on the window, press my eyelids together, and let the stress of the day roll around my head.
I stir as he pulls off the freeway.
It's three turns to his place.
He finds a spot on the street. Of course. Lucky bastard.
The music ceases as he turns the car off. He spins the keys around his forefinger. "It's a long drive."
