Page 4 of Play Nice

“I wanted to be the one to tell you,” she says, stating the obvious. “I wanted you to hear it from me.”

“Daphne did a fine job,” I say. I notice a shadow creeping into my peripheral vision. It’s Ethan, standing at an awkward distance, watching me, a concerned look on his face.

“She was our biological mother,” Leda says through what sounds like a clenched jaw. Someday Leda will discover Xanax, and her quality of life will improve drastically. Until then, she needs to wear a night guard so she doesn’t grind her teeth to powder.

“Are you going to Dad’s?” I ask.

“Yes, I’m packing now.”

“ ’Kay,” I say. “I’ll catch a train in the morning.”

“If Aunt Helen calls, ignore it. I will handle,” she says.

“All right,” I say, aware that Ethan’s hovering ever closer. “I’m about to get a car back to my apartment. I’ll call you in a bit, yeah?”

“Text me when you get home,” she says.

“Will do. Love you with a cherry on top.”

“I love you, too,” she says.

I hang up and immediately open the Uber app, request a car.

“What service! Mitt is only two minutes away,” I tell Ethan. “Silver Toyota Corolla. Plate ends in X3.”

“Uh, is everything okay?” he asks me.

I drop my phone back into my clutch and pinch it shut. “My mom died.”

Seconds pass. A siren sounds somewhere in the distance. Someone else’s misfortune temporarily louder than mine.

“Wait, for real?” he asks.

I nod. “For real.”

“Holy shit. I’m so sorry.”

Mitt pulls up in his Toyota. I open the door, look back at Ethan, who stands stiff on the sidewalk, his eyes watery and wide, as if he were the one who’d just gotten the gloomy news.

“You want to come home with me or not?” I ask before sliding into the back seat.

He climbs in beside me, undeterred by my tragedy. Or perhaps motivated by it. If he wants to be my knight in shining armor, so be it. I snuggle into him, steal his warmth.

That’s all he is to me, body heat.

If there is an afterlife, if any of the wild things my mother believed are true, she’s somewhere watching me, proud.

I’d rather you girls open your legs before you ever open your hearts, she said once, half a bottle deep. I was too young to understand then. So many things.

“Actually,” I tell Ethan. “I changed my mind. Get out.”

2

Rain taps at my window, a polite alarm. My eyes are slow to open, yesterday’s mascara gluing my lashes together. I got back to my apartment and fell into bed without undressing, brushing my teeth, or performing any of the many steps of my p.m. skincare routine.

“I have forsaken my serums,” I groan to no one.

There’s makeup smeared across my pillow, glitter all over my sheets. I roll onto my back and hear a soft crunch, reach underneath me to find my gift bag from last night’s party. I finger the heart-shaped tag with my name on it, then dump out the bag’s contents. Metallic tissue paper, clumps of glitter that will linger for eternity, and, finally, a small gold jewelry box with Veronica X Shine Inc. written in loopy script across the top. Inside the box is a pink velvet pouch, and inside that is a charm. A white gold snake with tiny diamond eyes.