Roxy and I both go quiet. Liz pushes through the door, her slingback heels clip-clopping against the tile as she enters the bathroom.
We both stare at her. She stops in her tracks. One eyebrow shoots up.
A slow smile spreads across her face. "Talking about me?"
I am Rizzo and she is Sandy from Grease. How did this happen? In high school I was the quiet, shy, naive type. Adorable sweater-set wearing, doe-eyed ELLIE. Now I've made out with Olivia Newton John's boyfriend and am plotting her demise in the bathroom. I'm the vixen with the wobbly morals, out for blood.
Roxy laughs and out-Rizzos me. "What we need to talk about are those bubble bangs."
Liz sighs and touches her forehead. "I gave my stylist a picture of Taylor Swift and came out looking like Zooey Deschanel."
"I think it's cute," I counter. She touches the puff of her bangs, her hand running down the length of her side braid to pinch the end. A twinkle glints in her eye – gratitude I so don't deserve.
She disappears into a stall. A hard lump of guilt forms in my gut. I look at Roxy with my best deer-in-headlights face and she rolls her eyes.
"How long have you and Mark been engaged?" Roxy asks with a raised voice, leaning back against the sink and examining her nails. She has no shame. The tiny bathroom echoes with a steady stream of pee. Kill me now. I widen my eyes at Roxy, but she isn't looking at me. She's picking a chip of polish and flicking it onto the tile floor.
"A little over a year," she says. "But we've been together since college."
"Since college!" Roxy exclaims, her expression a study in hyperbolic shock.
"Wow. How'd you meet?"
I have to gulp back a laugh. I can't help it.
The toilet finally flushes, and Liz emerges from the stall. Roxy turns on the faucet for her. She looks appreciative as she rinses her hands.
"Just a college party," she says with a shrug. "The usual."
Roxy hands her a towel to dry off. "When's the big day?"
Liz turns sheepish and bites a tiny lip. I remember from the reunion that the wedding date is a sensitive subject. I decide to chime in. "Should we rejoin the group?"
"Hold on." Roxy puts a hand out. Wait. "I want to hear all about the fairy tale."
I watch as Liz's innocent eyes stare up at Roxy, the big bad wolf. Roxy has a way of hypnotizing her prey. Those eyes, sharp green and wide. The way her voice rasps, rough and husky. You adore her even as you're bleeding and gasping for air, her claws sinking deeper and deeper into your back.
Liz doesn't even try to sound optimistic. "It's not much of a fairy tale. Mark's mom left his dad a few months ago, so it's been pretty shitty, actually. We've been waiting for the worst of it to blow over."
The hard lump of guilt twists inside my stomach. I nearly double over with the force of it. Mark's parents are getting divorced?
"Wow, the Wrights are dunzo. How does that even happen? Don't they have like, ten kids?"
"Five, yeah," Liz says. "I guess Mark's mom was cheating on his dad with someone from work. None of the kids are really talking to his mom. Including Mark." She touches a hand to her mouth. "I probably shouldn't be telling you guys all this."
"Mark's secret is safe with us." Roxy mimes locking her mouth and tossing the key over her shoulder. Liz smiles gratefully.
"I should go back," she says. I start to open the door so we can all leave this goddamn bathroom, but Roxy claps a hand over her mouth and heads for a stall. Liz asks me a question with her eyes. I shake my head and motion for her to go on.
I close the door behind her and spin around to face Roxy with my arms crossed over my chest. She sits fully clothed on the toilet with her legs crossed, laughs maniacally, and claps her hands together.
"Could you please?" I ask, worried that Liz will hear.
"He's not gonna marry her."
I ignore the fluttering of hope in my chest. Bad heart. Bad.
"The ring on her finger claims otherwise."
"Oh. My. God." Roxy counts on her fingers. "They've been engaged for over a year, Mark's parents just split, and there was never a date. Fuck, Ellie Bellie, you were always so good at math. I'm surprised you can't add it up."
"Love isn't mathematical," I say. "Plenty of people wait to set a date."
"Psh. No, they don't." Roxy makes a face. "This is Ohio. Biological clocks tick double time here."
"I'm not rooting for this woman's life to be ruined. "
"Oh, please." Roxy stands up. "You've already played tonsil hockey with her fiancé. That ship has sailed and sunk."
I run my hands through my hair. "I am an asshole."
"Yep." She puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "Welcome to the club, babe."
Roxy winks at me and throws the door open, strutting through it dramatically. "Garçon," she says with a quick snap of her fingers. I'm sure there will be a giant loogie in Roxy's next drink, and I'm sure she doesn't even care.
+
After brunch is over, Brock Crawley picks up the bill for the rest of the table. Fortunately, I already paid for our drinks before I got lost in the bathroom. Number three is done. I'm going to check off those items, come hell or high water.
Roxy's finally had enough Bloody Marys to start slurring her words. She digs through her purse to find her keys, and as soon as she has them in hand, Brock snatches them away from her.
"Come on, Foxy," Brock says, putting an arm around Roxy's shoulder. I take note that he's just a little too friendly with the gross nickname, and Christine looks none too pleased about their new companion for the ride home. I'm just glad she's with them; otherwise, I'd feel responsible for getting her home. And shit, that guilt is so not what is supposed to be happening right now.
Roxy's slightly dilated eyes find mine. For some reason, I know this isn't goodbye.
Not yet.
Mark drops Liz off at the elementary school where she volunteers coaching fourth-grade cheer squad because of course she does. She waves as I climb into her seat, buckling up. And then she turns away, just as a little girl with a giant gold bow in her hair marches up with her parents. The girl launches her tiny body at Liz like a rocket and I watch as Liz laughs and squats down for a hug.
"She's gonna be the best mom," I say without thinking about it first.
"Yeah," is Mark's only reply. He takes the long way home. The leaves streak by in a colorful blur.
"I always miss Ohio in the fall," I say quietly.
"It's the best part about being here."
That single sentence says so much, but I don't tell him. I don't think I've earned that kind of assessment. But when I look at him, written on every feature I can see the knowledge of all he's not saying out loud .
I have to look away.
When I was a kid, I waited for the bus in the morning with my dad and a few other kids who lived on my dead-end street. Each morning would get cooler and cooler, and Dad would use a stick to rip open the silk cocoons tucked into the neighbor's gate. We'd gather around him and watch in awe as a frustrated spider crawled out and immediately went back to work repairing the damage to his winter home.
The memory reminds me of Mark's dad. How frustrating it must be to believe your life will turn out one way — that you are done and all settled and truly loved — and then your wife leaves you for someone else. Now the cozy little cocoon he thought was his home for the rest of his life is ripped open and he has to go to work mending the gaping hole.
"Sorry about your mom and dad," I say finally. "Roxy drew it out of Liz with her claws."
Mark's jaw clenches, and he doesn't respond right away.
"Dad'll bounce back," Mark finally says, almost in a whisper. Like he almost doesn't believe it.
"Are you mad at your mom?" I can't pull my eyes from his face.
Mark's hands clench the steering wheel. "A little." The truer answer is yes.
I can't help but wonder what all this is making him feel, about his choices, his future. Marriage and all the stuff he's let himself believe were the right things to do. He clearly doesn't want to talk about any of it, and I really don't need to become more involved in the inner life of Mark Wright, so I lean back in my seat and close my eyes. The kaleidoscope of dying leaves outside my window and the tornado of emotion I want to repress are making me dizzy.
The car stops and my eyes open to a place that's unfamiliar and unexpected. We're parked in a driveway among a Stepford Wives development of duplexes.
I frown. "Is this the part where I find out you're a serial killer?"
Mark chuckles and unbuckles his seatbelt. "What's with you and serial killers?" he asks before he gets out of the car.
I follow him, confused by this turn of events. "For one thing, there are over—"
"Two hundred active serial killers in the United States. I know."
I pout. "Maybe thousands. It's not like they include Serial Killer on the US Census."
He laughs and fumbles with his keychain until he lands on the house key. "How many items are left on the list?"
The vice around my stomach unclenches. Duh, the list. Mark wants me to read his script and we agreed I'd read it after he helped me finish Operation: Ellie is Cool Now.
"Six. Give or take."
Mark unlocks the front door to the home he shares with Liz. He pushes the door open and steps aside so I can go in first.
The inside is so midwestern it hurts my eyes. Everything is brown and cherry wood. The decor is an offensive mix of IKEA, Home Depot, and Grandma's hand-me-downs. There's even a pink floral chair they've tried to hide with a hand-knitted afghan beside the front living room window.
"What do you think?" he asks. I hear the keys hit the counter before Mark takes off his coat. I nibble on my lip, trying to find something nice to say before remembering that I don't care.
"I hate it," I say.
"Good," he says behind me, too close. I'm sure I'm dead serial killer meat as his hands find my hips and spin me around to face him.
But instead of a knife, it's his lips. On mine. His hands. On my hips. His breath. On my cheek. I taste his tongue, laced with coffee and syrup, sharp and sweet, and heady with wanting. It slices through my resolve, killing every sensible thought in my head.
Not a knife, but it cuts just as deep.
I'm falling in love with Mark Wright.
For real this time.
***
A/N
Oh. Shit. Ellie just took a dive right into the deep end. Hope she's ready to swim!
We want to take a moment to thank all our AMAZING readers — and Wattpad! — for falling in love with our story. Ellie, Mark, Roxy and Liz still have a lot to do before THE END.
And now everything is SO. MUCH. MORE. COMPLICATED.
Make sure to follow this story so you don't miss the wild ride ahead!!
XO,
V + F