Digging In: A Novel(14)

Glynnis was the only one smart enough to bring a blanket. It was the serape variety, the kind you get at tourist traps and (once upon a time) Dead shows. We were huddled on it, Glynnis, Rhiannon, Jackie, and me, our lunches held precariously on our laps. Seth and Byron sat with their backs against the building, long legs stretched in front of them, vape pens at their mouths.

“Vaping? You guys are such losers,” Rhiannon announced.

“Two of us are going to be losers,” Byron said. “By the end of the summer.” He had a knowing, sardonic way of speaking, so even the most mundane comment begged a reaction. Glynnis smiled at him. She had a crush.

“What I don’t understand,” I said, “is how we’re supposed to work as one body and still engage in healthy competition.”

Rhiannon snorted. “That’s the beauty of Petra Polly. She doesn’t have to make fuck-all sense.”

“It works,” Seth countered. “She’s number one on the New York Times bestseller list.”

Rhiannon shook her head, not budging. “That only means she’s trending, or has a fantastic publicist. It doesn’t mean her stupid rules work.”

“You don’t seem to have any problem following her stupid rules when Lukas is around,” Byron countered.

“I need this job,” she retorted. “Do you know how long it took me to find it?”

“We all need the job,” Jackie said miserably.

We ate in silence for a while.

“I have an idea,” Glynnis said, her voice nearly inaudible. “We still have some time left, and we’re supposed to be bonding or something, right?”

“Don’t even think of suggesting we do trust falls or play truth or dare,” Rhiannon snapped.

Glynnis shifted so she could rise to her knees. “Nothing like that. I think we should go around the circle and say one interesting thing about ourselves. Something memorable. Let’s humanize each other.”

Seth made a noise of protest. “Are you kidding? Not going to happen.”

Glynnis clapped once, sharply, and then offered a timid smile. She must have been a Girl Scout in a prior incarnation, or an eager church group volunteer. “It can happen if we keep it simple,” she said. “Answer this question—why did your parents name you what they did?”

Jackie pointed at Rhiannon. “Well, she’s got the most obvious story.”

“Why?” Seth asked. “I don’t get it.”

“Fleetwood Mac, you dolt,” Rhiannon said, covering her head with her hands. “Why didn’t they name me Stevie? I would have liked that better.”

“Rhiannon’s the white witch,” Jackie said. “I think that’s pretty cool.”

“You would,” Byron muttered.

“What about you?” I asked him. Byron was starting to grate on my nerves.

“I thought that was obvious. Lord Byron.”

I had to admit that was impressive. “Were your parents academics?”

“They own a dry cleaning business.”

“Oh.”

“Well, that’s interesting,” Glynnis remarked. “Did you work there?”

Byron flicked his gaze at her. “Are you kidding?”

Glynnis didn’t skip a beat. “What about you, Paige?”

What about me? I hesitated, wondering if I should reveal too much of myself. What the hell, I decided. “I was named by a nurse at the hospital. My mother had a drug problem and took off as soon as she was physically able. It took a while for my grandmother to find me.”

Glynnis had no idea what to do with that, and neither did the others, their stares vacant, mouths slack. Even Byron dropped his vape pen onto the grass. He leaned over it, assessing me with new eyes. “Are you shitting me?”

I held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

“I didn’t know that,” Jackie said. She didn’t seem hurt, but perplexed. “Did Big Frank know that?”

He had, but I shrugged it off just as he did, unwilling to go down the path of uncomfortable explanations. “It’s not such a big deal.”

They longed for detail, begging for more, but I stayed silent. Reluctantly, they turned to Seth.

“I’m named after my uncle,” he said apologetically. “Not too exciting.”

“That’s nice,” Glynnis said.

Jackie checked her watch. “We need to get back.”

We cleaned up and rose to stretch our legs, moving briefly, as Petra Polly suggested, as one. Then Seth and Byron started goofing around on the grass while Rhiannon reapplied hot-pink lip gloss and Jackie fluffed up her hair.

“We’re forgetting something,” Seth said. “But I don’t know what it is.”

“Then it doesn’t matter,” Rhiannon snapped. “Let’s get back inside, do what we need to do, and get the hell out before Lukas announces that Petra thinks we should work weekends.”

I fell in step with Glynnis.

“I was named for a valley in Ireland,” she said, slowing her pace.

“We forgot your turn! I’m so sorry.” Impulsively, I reached out and tucked a stray lock of her strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear. “Your name is lovely.”

“But your story is better,” she said. We watched Byron and Seth jokingly fight over who held the door for Rhiannon. “I’m going to be one of the losers, aren’t I?” she continued.