When We Collided(36)

When Vivi makes her way back to me, I eye her. “How do you know Dane Farrow?”

“Hmmmm,” she says, drawing it out. She’s openly considering what to tell me. Like, how and to what degree she will lie. “We have a mutual friend.”

“Named Mary Jane?”

Vivi giggles like it was a joke. “He knows Whitney. I met him at work. Oh, relax, Jonah; don’t give me that face. What Dane sells is ditch weed; I’d never buy from him.”

Would she buy from someone else? We’ve never talked about it. I’ve smoked before with friends but never bought weed. Furthest thing from my mind these days.

“Jonah, Naomi, hey!” Ellie’s waving at us, walking over from a group of sophomores. “You came!”

She hugs Naomi and gives me a shy wave, saying, “I saw the patio, Jonah. It looks so great!”

I nod. “Thanks. It’s getting there. Ellie, this is Vivi.”

“His girlfriend,” Vivi adds. We haven’t had the definition conversation. I try not to react in surprise. Or relief.

“It’s so good to meet you!” Ellie’s tone is genuine as she sticks out her hand. Vivi shakes it daintily, as if Ellie is someone she’d rather not touch. “Leah talked about you nonstop last time I saw her.”

Vivi gives her that painted-on smile again, but it’s more than her lipstick. She looks like a doll with a permanent smile forced onto her face. “Huh. I haven’t heard about you.”

I frown because of course Vivi has heard of her. “Ellie is Felix’s oldest daughter, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Vivi fake-smiles still. “Right.”

I feel like I’m a gazelle about to be mauled by two lions.

“C’mon, El,” Naomi says, taking her hand. “Walk with me to the keg.”

Without another word to Vivi, they’re both gone. Maybe Naomi meant to save me, which I guess she did. But it still seemed like she was excluding Vivi on purpose.

“Sorry about Naomi.” I sit down on the nearest log, and Vivi cuddles up beside me. These logs are another Verona Cove mystery, our Stonehenge. They’re huge, like petrified wood or something. They curve around the bonfire pit, unused for 364 days a year. “It’s not you. She’s just like that. It takes her forever to like people, but she’s known Ellie forever.”

“Oh, give her a break, Jonah.” She takes a long drink of her beer. “God, guys are so dense—like, honestly, I can’t tell you how much your daily lives would improve if you figured out how to read body language.”

I blink at her, sort of pissed. “What?”

She sighs, flicking her glance over to Adam. “When that guy talked to her, Naomi totally put on a face. I’ve never seen her look so friendly and pleasant, but it exhausted her. I don’t know who he is, but I can tell his presence has this, like, major effect on her.”

“He’s her ex.” Naomi never gave details about their breakup, and I never asked. She mentioned it once, very matter-of-fact, around the time she left for college last year. It’s like when someone eats something bad and tells you they “got sick.” You don’t ask for details. You understand that the situation sucked, and that’s all you need. “You think she’s still hung up on him?”

“Maybe not hung up on. But definitely hurt.” Vivi rolls her eyes at me. “Honestly, Jonah, I don’t know how you can live in the same house as someone who is heartbroken without sensing it. I’ve known since the first night I met Naomi, obviously, because I can smell heartbreak on a person. It smells like incense, sweet but burning.”

I want to tell her that I live with six heartbroken people, one of whom is catatonic. That kind of heartbreak smells like the aftermath of a car wreck, like hot metal. Oil. The chalky powder released by airbags.

“Anyway.” She glances to see that Naomi’s walking back over. “I’m going to go find Tasha real quick. Be nice to your sister.”

I have no idea who Tasha is. Vivi flies off in a flash of blond and bare legs. I figured Naomi would nag me if I had a drink tonight, but she’s holding two beer cans.

“Here,” she says, taking Vivi’s place on the log. “I got us decent ones instead of the piss they’re calling keg beer.”

She hands me a can and cracks open another for herself. “Cheers. To surviving this endless, f*cking awful year.”

Here’s hoping. I knock my can against hers. It makes a thin, aluminum clink, and we both take long drinks.

“She’s really something, isn’t she?” My sister’s dark eyes are watching Vivi, who is locked into conversation with some guy who is clearly not Tasha. She’s laughing, occasionally pushing at his arm. I mean, she’s openly flirting with him. But then she catches me looking and puckers her lips like kissing me from yards away. Her red lips stand out in the moonlight.

“Yeah.” I chance a sidelong look at Naomi. “You’d like her if you got to know her.”

The fire snaps in front of us, and a log splits within it. Naomi is quiet for what feels like a long time. Finally, she says, “I’m just trying to hold it together.”

This isn’t exactly an excuse for her perpetual bad mood. But I know what she means. “So is Vivi.”

I don’t know how I know this, but I do. I’ve never asked about the scar on her left wrist, jagged and intentional. She wears long sleeves almost all the time or, if she’s in her bathing suit, an armful of bracelets. Isaac asked about the scar once, and Vivi told an elaborate story about getting attacked by a bear while camping near Mount Rainier. She’s never told me the real story other than to say she isn’t afraid of darkness. I believe her. Every once in a while, her temper flashes. It’s like she’s exhausted from beating down her demons.