“I think you might be scaring the Uber driver,” Alix whispered when she leaned toward her in the back seat. Her tone was serious, but before Grace could panic, she met her warm eyes. Eyes that, even in indirect sunlight, looked like fractured amber. Like there were little secrets to discover in the shifting streaks of deep golden brown.
Grace glanced at the old man driving them to her mother’s house. He met her gaze in the rearview like he’d been keeping his attention trained on her.
“Maybe if you looked a little less like you were plotting to stick him up,” Alix whispered, all lopsided smiles and single dimple and unabashed amusement.
Grace looked down at her hands, her pale, bloodless hands, and released her vise grip. It was only then that she realized she’d been leaning away from the backrest like she was primed to pounce. The fact that she hadn’t said a word since they got in the car probably didn’t help.
Forcing herself to exhale, Grace nodded at Alix and leaned back. She wanted to hold Alix’s hand again. Not because she craved contact with her skin or couldn’t stop thinking about her in the pool. Human touch was just comforting, and Alix’s fingers interlaced with hers had already pulled her back from the edge of panic once. It had been a long time since any had soothed her like that, and she couldn’t help the desire to chase the feeling.
But reaching for her was too weird. Everything around her felt weird. Who the hell just left food laced with drugs lying around? Where the hell had the vegan brownies gone?
A giggle, effervescent and uninvited, started in the middle of her chest. It traveled to her shaking shoulders before she could clench her mouth shut.
Alix smiled, chuckling before knowing what was funny. “What?”
Uncontrollable laughter bubbled out of Grace. She caught sight of the driver, who looked even more alarmed at her amusement than he had at her stillness. This stupid ride was going to tank her perfect passenger rating, but she couldn’t stop laughing.
“How many vegan brownies do you think someone ate before realizing they had the wrong ones?” Grace managed despite being unable to breathe. All she could picture was one of her aunt’s friends absolutely housing an entire tray of browniesbefore realizing they were duds. For reasons Grace couldn’t articulate, it was the funniest thing in the world.
Laughing, Alix shook her head, barely able to get out, “Sugar high is not it.”
The more they laughed, the more the driver stared at them. Grace wanted to ask him if he’d ever seen a couple of grown-ass women experiencing a little joy, but she couldn’t manage to do anything but hold her painful sides and gasp for air.
Short of kicking them out of the back seat with a cartoonishly large boot — a mental picture that also made Grace hysterical — the driver dropped them off in front of her mother’s house. The sight of dozens of cars packed into the driveway and parked along the street stopped Grace short.
The neon sign hummed above her and sweat poured down her back. There were too many people. People who knew her well. Who’d know that she was high as a damn satellite. Was that the saying? What the hell was that saying? Was she losing brain cells?
“Hey.” Alix’s voice was so soft, and her warm hand on Grace’s bare shoulder even softer. “We’ve got two options here.”
She raised her brows, drawing Grace’s attention to the short wavy hair she’d tamed with product. God, she had such cool hair.
“We can turn around and go back to your aunt’s house.” Grace nodded, because that sounded like the only viable option. “Or, we can say fuck it and lean right into this and see what happens.”
Grace’s eyes widened as she cocked her head to the side as if that might help her understand the concept.
“Worst case, if you start acting weird, I’ll give you a signal and fake an illness so you have to take me back to your aunt’s place. Cool?”
Grace furrowed her brow. “How would you know if I’m acting weird?”
Alix’s smile didn’t falter. “Don’t worry, Gator. I’ll know,” she asserted with infectious confidence. “I won’t let you be that guy at the party, okay?”
Taking her first deep breath, Grace dropped her shoulders. “Okay,” she agreed despite a racing pulse and a crushing impending sense of doom.
If only they’d been able to stay in the quiet of the sidewalk. As soon as they opened the front door, they were assaulted by Enrique Iglesias crooning through speakers the size of large adolescents. Family and friends seemed to multiply while they were caught up in a whirlwind of hugs and kisses and overly familiar greetings. Moving through the house was not unlike getting picked up by a tornado, toured around, and then dropped outside by the coolers full of drinks.
“I am so sorry,” Grace said before shoving her hand in melting ice to fish for a couple of bottles of water. Her mouth was so dry, she didn’t know how she managed to make any sound when she spoke. She’d never been so thirsty in her damn life.
“For what?” Alix took one of the gloriously cold bottles and cracked it open. “Is that where they roast the pig?” she asked before Grace could explain that she was sorry abouteverything. The ruined plans, the neurotic dog, the consumption of drugs. Nothing had gone to plan.
Grace looked over her shoulder to where all the old men in her extended family were standing around a huge plywood box they’d set up under the shade of a sprawling avocado tree. When it was time to eat they’d all gather outside, but for now, the noise of conversation was distant and the music dampened by hurricane impact windows.
“It looks like a coffin,” Alix said, eyes wide and gaze distant.
Grace stared at the caja china, really noticing it for the first time in her life. Lined with metal and fueled by charcoal, it wasthe way her family cooked the centerpiece of every holiday meal. The longer she stared at it, the more freaked out she became. What if someone fell in there and the lid closed behind them and lightning hit the tree?—
“There you are.” Her second cousin’s suddenly booming voice made Grace jump.
“What?” Grace shrieked, pulse racing so fast, she was sure Miriam could hear it. Could see the heart-shaped thumping through her shirt.
