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“You tell ‘em.”
I look away.
“Alright,” Julian says. “Figure out amongst yourselves where you want to sleep. Daisy, you’re in the Chinoiserie suite.”
She frowns. “I want the master.”
Her brother scoffs, amused. “Yeah, right.”
She frowns more. “Why do you get the master?”
He gives her a look. “Because I am the master.”
Daisy rolls her eyes and pulls Christian away.
“Come on.” Julian grabs Parks, tosses her over his shoulder like a fucking caveman and carries her up the stairs. “I’m going to show you just how well it pays.”
They disappear for a while.
I’m sick for a while.
Fucks me up a bit, watching him carry her away like that. I second guess the call on having everyone come to Italy. Him kissing her is shit enough, but having to be in the same house as them while they’re fucking?
Don’t really know what to do other than Jordan, so I do.
Hate it, think of Parks the whole time. Hate that. Hate myself for being like this again.
Thought I’d evolved past fucking girls to process how much loving Parks has fucked me up but I’ve not — clearly.
Old habits and shit.
I feel worse for it than I used to because I guess now I know better.
“You were mad,” Jordan says, looking over to me afterwards, “that I didn’t invite her to the party.”
She looks away, thinking.
“No.” I shake my head unconvincingly.
“I thought you’d like making her sad,” she says as she reaches over, pushing my hair back. Makes me feel a weird kind of sick, Jordan touching me like this, talking about Magnolia.
I flash her a quick smile. “I never want to make her sad.”
“Even if—” she starts but I cut her off.
“Even if nothing, Jords,” I tell her firmly, but it’s kind of bullshit. I’m a professional at hurting Parks, but over my fucking dead body am I letting anyone else do it.
She watches me, thinking as she does, then she nods. See a question rise to the surface of her mind like a dead body in a lake. She breathes out with her eyes pinched and her blinks sink it again.
She rolls on top of me and flashes me a smile. “Fancy round two?”
Few hours later I head down to the pool. It’s lined with about a thousand heaters so we can lie out and pretend it’s not a toasty 12°C.
Daisy, Christian, Henry and Taura went out on the lake; Gus, Jo and Banksy are playing spike ball on the grass; Parks and Julian are lying under a cabana in the worst way possible.
Blanket around him (what the fuck is with them and blankets?), her leaning back between his legs.
He’s reading the paper, she’s on her iPhone.
