Page 23 of The B Side

And still, Darcy had her fantasies about it. About what it could be like to be a real couple with Juliet. For people to see them and know. Know that they coordinated their outfits for events with one another, know that they coordinated their schedules to align with one another’s, know that their music was written for and with the other.

She’d wanted it since Juliet had been “with” Robbie, and that want had only grown stronger. Which was why, even though it hadn’t been sunshine and daisies, she had no regrets about being out.

Both her sister and Emerson stared back at her, their focus intense. And she knew, in this moment, they’d both been waiting for this since she’d arrived. Waiting for Darcy to really open the door to how everything had been going in the last month.

She spun her ring around on her finger, twisting. Twisting. Before she heaved a sigh. “I’m really worried that Juliet isn’t going to be happy that we’re out.”

What if the thing she’d longed for was going to be the thing that broke them? Darcy wasn’t really sure how to manage that. She didn’t know what she’d do, and that thought was petrifying. To need someone so much. To love someone so much.

She could see the understanding on both Blythe and Emerson’s faces, but before either of them could say anything, her phone buzzed on the arm of the couch next to her.

Darcy wasn’t sure her reflexes had ever been so quick as she snatched it up.

Only to be disappointed that it wasn’t Juliet’s name on the screen.

“… Sandra?” Darcy answered, confusion sliding through her.

“Sandra?” Blythe echoed, exchanging a baffled look with Emerson before they both turned their curious stares back to Darcy. “Why is she calling you?”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “I don’t know; I obviously just answered the phone.”

Her sister made a point of rolling her eyes right back, before turning back to Emerson as if pretending she wasn’t invested in the phone call. Which was objectively funny, because Darcy knew they were both incredibly invested in whatever was going on.

She reached up with her free hand to cover her ear, straining to hear Sandra’s end of the line because of the ruckus at the bowling alley. Which seemed even louder than usual?

Then again, maybe Darcy had been gone for too long. Maybe it was always that loud, and she’d forgotten what it was like in her years away. She didn’t think so, but –

“Darcy, yeah, sorry for calling tonight; I know y’all are preparing for the wedding tomorrow and whatnot,” Sandra’s voice filtered in after she snapped something at Lyle, one of their regular customers, who was unfortunately also a very messy drunk.

“It’s fine,” she assured, her confusion only growing. Because Sandra occasionally texted her, but they didn’t really chat. Especially not when Sandra was working a Saturday night at the bowling alley. “Is everything okay?”

Blythe stopped pretending she wasn’t listening, turning back to look at her.

Darcy only offered her a shrug.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s… okay. I just thought you should probably know–” Whatever else she said was drowned out by a collective cheer and the sound of one of Juliet’s old songs playing in the background.

“Sandra, what the heck is happening over there? You need an extra bartending hand for the night or something?” She semi-joked. Mostly, only a joke because it was the night before the wedding. If Sandra ever desperately needed her help, she’d be there.

“Honey, your girlfriend is here.”

That stopped Darcy in her tracks. Her eyes narrowed, blinking across the room at the fireplace. “Sorry. What did you say? My girlfriend… is Juliet–”

“Darcy, do you really think I don’t know who your gal is? I know who Juliet Jacobs is, thank you very much. I’m not so old and out of touch. And she is here. Don’t you hear her?”

She could hear Juliet, but, “That’s not the radio?!”

“No! She’s singing live!” Sandra insisted, “And the people are loving it.”

Well, of course they were; Juliet was an incredible singer. But – “What is she doing there?”

“How do I know?” Sandra shot back. “She isn’t my girlfriend.”

“When did she get there?” Darcy asked, already standing and hurrying toward where she’d kicked off her shoes near the door.

“Ah… about an hour ago, I think? I was over at the front desk; I didn’t realize she was at the bar. But she’s definitely had a few drinks.”

What in the hell was going on?