The Lion's Den(34)
Glad you’re having fun. Your instagram feed is awesome. I’m jealous. It’s sunny here too but hot. I need a vacation. Did you figure out how to work that watch LOL?
Saw this and thought of you (may take a min to download, be patient!):
http://tyrlus.grx.au/sdlkvnpq2083r39jfaoijv-84rn82hfpidfn pq9843y-t92nv9rejfkjsdhf874gpijnv9
Chat soon!
Sis
I click on the link and a pop-up opens with a spinny wheel. After a few seconds, the word “loading” appears under the wheel, and a blue line creeps across the box: 5 percent, 23 percent, 46 percent—it’s taking forever.
“What are you downloading?”
I jump about a foot in the air and spin to see Bernard hovering over my shoulder, squinting at my screen. I’ve been staring so intently at the computer that I didn’t notice him enter the room.
“You surprised me,” I stammer. “I didn’t hear you come in. It’s just a link from my sister. We always send each other funny links. It’s—why?”
“Let’s see it,” he says.
I rise to face him, blocking the computer with my body. “I don’t—I’m sorry, I’m not comfortable with that.” I stumble over my words, my heart racing. “I don’t know what it is. It could be personal.” He’s staring at me like I’m a criminal. “Last week she sent me a pic of an ingrown hair on her bikini line—she would be mortified if you saw something like that,” I blurt.
“We don’t allow downloads to these computers,” he says.
“Okay,” I sputter. “I didn’t know. I won’t do it again.”
And with that, he turns on his heel and exits.
Turns out I’m not so paranoid after all. I sink into the chair, my heart hammering, and look up at the computer screen. The pop-up window is gone, and in its place is a GIF showing feather-clad 1920s showgirls dancing in a line, and these words:
All that glitters is not gold;
Often have you heard that told:
Many a man his life hath sold
But my outside to behold:
Gilded tombs do worms enfold.
The Merchant of Venice, of course. I have to laugh, but…much ado about nothing. I don’t know what I expected, but if I’d known it was just a silly GIF, I wouldn’t have risked angering Bernard to hide it. Too shaken by my interaction with him to reply, I log out of my account, turn the computer back to its original position, and descend the stairs to my room, where I lie down on the bed and breathe, begging my heart to slow down.
(two years ago)
Los Angeles
The crowd in the gallery had dissipated when I returned from the roof, and the band had finished. I found Summer swigging champagne in front of a picture of a burning house about to be crushed by an ocean wave. I shifted my gaze to the small white placard underneath. FIRE AND WATER, ERIC THOMAS. Eric Thomas. I tasted the name on my tongue.
“I don’t get it,” Summer whispered. “None of these pictures makes any sense.”
“It’s about opposites,” I explained. “Like yin and yang. A little bit of white in the black and black in the white.”
“Huh. Sorry I was late.” She sighed. “After I saw you at the pool, I had to drive all the way to Pomona to give Rhonda money for rent so she and Brittani don’t get evicted, then when I was finally ready Brian called and I had to pretend I was staying in.”
“Damn. Sorry.”
“Yeah, and it’s BS because I need to be saving my allowance or I’m never going to be able to move out of Brian’s, but I keep having to give it to her.”
“Your allowance?”
“He puts money in an account for me, for spending cash when he’s out of town or whatever.”
So that was how she had money. “I could get you a job at Heaven,” I suggested.
“No way.” She waved the idea away. “I just got out of that world, and I hated it as much as you do. Oh! There he is.”
She grabbed my hand and pulled me across the room, straight toward where Eric was midconversation with a good-looking guy in a suit.
Oh God. Please let it be the guy in the suit, I prayed.
“Eric,” Summer purred as we approached.
Shit. But then again: of course. I shouldn’t have been surprised. It wasn’t the first time Summer had staked a claim on a guy I would’ve liked for myself, and it surely wouldn’t be the last. She invariably got her pick of the litter, regardless of whether she was already committed to someone else.
But I wasn’t being fair: this time at least, she had seen him first.
“Beautiful work,” she murmured, draping her arms around his neck and planting a sensuous kiss on his mouth. He tried to catch my eye over her shoulder, but I avoided his gaze. She turned to me. “This is my friend Belle.”
His eyes searched mine as we pretended to meet for the first time, but I kept my expression intentionally blank. What else could I do? Regardless of my petty grievances with Summer, it’s not like I was gonna choose some guy I just met over our friendship. I watched as he processed my reaction and matched it, finally extending his hand. “Eric.” I shook it politely, like the mannered Southern girl I was. “This is my brother, Dylan.”
Yep. Summer always got who she wanted, and I always got…the brother. I switched my focus to the brother, taking him in for the first time.