You are glitter. There is a difference.
Alix
I am both and also starving. This is perfect. Thank you thank you thank you.
Grace
I guessed on the mint tea. My mother swears by it for hangovers. I go with water and shame.
Alix laughed, then winced because laughing made the pulsing ache inside her head do a triple-axel jump.
Alix
Please pass my compliments to your mother. Also to the person who invented hash browns.
Grace
Consider it done.
She took another bite, then another, then remembered more of last night’s video call like a rush of cold water. The awareness had sat in her like a sparkler: bright, insistent, throwing off heat even after the flame died.
Bury it, she told herself now, chewing, gulping Gatorade. Bury the part that wants too much too fast and always with unavailable women. She had a long and noble tradition of sprinting toward whatever glowed, then crashing into it with all the grace of a shopping cart. She was not going to do that to Grace. Grace had a job that required composure and words like “precedent” and “therefore.” Grace had a mother who dispensed mint tea wisdom. Grace had… that face.
Alix tossed the empty clamshell in the compost bin, rinsed her fingers, and caught her reflection again: a raccooned Edward Cullen, glitter embedded in every pore. She sighed, a little dramatic for an audience of none, and sipped the tea, which tasted like kindness.
Her phone lit with an incoming call. Grace. She stared at it as if it might bite, then swiped to answer, leaning her hip against the counter, one bare foot crossing the other.
“Hello?” she said, aiming for breezy and, unfortunately, hitting croaky. “Look at us on calling terms.”
“How are you feeling after breakfast?” Grace asked, voice warm and a little husky with morning. Or maybe that was Florida humidity through a phone line. Alix didn’t care. She felt it, low and pleasant.
“Honestly?” Alix said, smiling despite herself. “Like a million dollars with the world’s nicest breakup buddy.”
“I’ll take that,” Grace said, and Alix could hear the smile. “So you’re alive. That’s good.”
“Alive is generous. Re-animated, maybe.”
“On-brand for Edward.”
Alix groaned. “I was hoping you’d forget.”
“Alix, I could never forget the glitter. I’m pretty sure if I fly west I’ll see it from the plane.”
“Rude. True,” Alix conceded, then tipped her head back to swallow more tea. “Hey, um, about last night…”
There was a very small pause. “Mm?”
“I sincerely do not remember most of what I said. Because I think I probably drank gasoline from the way I’m feeling now. And I just… if I made anything weird?—”
“You mean offering to come to Miami for Thanksgiving?” Grace asked, gentle as a finger under a chin.
Oh. That. Yeah, that was coming back to her now, too.
“Oh my God,” Alix said, pressing her free hand over her face again. “I did that.”
“You did.”
“I’m sorry,” Alix said, wincing in place. “I didn’t mean to… I mean obviously you were kidding. I was kidding. Imagine me just showing up at your family’s Thanksgiving like a stray cat you found. That’s so weird.”
