City Love(65)

“What if the negative thing could hurt the other person?” Sadie asks. “And that’s why the first person was keeping it from them?”

“Yeah, that’s called lying.”

“People in a relationship should feel secure enough to tell each other anything,” Rosanna says. “They shouldn’t hold something back because they’re afraid of how the other person will take it. That’s not being completely honest.”

I stick my fist out for a pound. Rosanna leans over from the pouf to tap me.

“All I’m saying is . . .” Sadie composes her thoughts. “If you feel like something’s missing and you find a soul mate, it’s like a missing piece of you has been found. Like the thing you’ve been longing for is suddenly right in front of you. Even if you didn’t know you were longing in the first place. Or maybe you didn’t realize true love was real. Maybe you thought movie love was only in the movies. But now you’re in it and you’ve never been this certain of anything else in your life and it feels so amazing you can’t resist. If that happens to someone who’s already married, they should be honest about their feelings with everyone involved. Even if their marriage looks perfect from the outside.”

“A picture-perfect marriage is usually far from perfect,” I say.

“Not always,” Rosanna says. “I know couples who have been happily married for a long time. Their marriages look perfect because they really are close to perfect.”

“Like who?”

“Friends of the family back home. Neighbors. My aunt and uncle. There are just as many examples of happy marriages as there are of bad ones.”

“I don’t know about that. Just because people choose to stay married doesn’t automatically mean they’re happy.” I’d rather chew my leg off than stay caught in the trap of a miserable marriage. Being uncommitted is so much better. There’s no way I could ever hurt someone the way Connie hurt Edward.





THIRTY

ROSANNA


WE STAYED UP SO LATE last night I was afraid to look at the time before I went to bed. I’m paying the price today. But movie night with Sadie and Darcy was totally worth it. Not that I would have been able to go to sleep right away if we hadn’t stayed up. The encounter with D at his place gave me an extreme adrenaline rush that took hours to wear off, if it ever wore off completely. My legs still feel heavy. A mild dizziness is making it impossible to operate at full speed. Every nerve in my body is like an exposed wire with frayed edges that won’t stop sparking.

It would be safe to say that I’m not exactly bringing the camp counselor excellence today.

Fortunately no one seems to be noticing. Or if they are noticing, they’re kind enough not to say anything. I’m relieved to be at arts and crafts this period. You get to sit down the whole time at arts and crafts, except for going over to the service window to get additional supplies. My legs were starting to feel like I was wading through quicksand.

“Does this look good?” Momo asks. She’s decorating the jewelry box she made yesterday. She holds up her jewelry box for my approval. Momo seems to need a lot of validation. We bonded over our shared love of birds on the first day of camp. Campers were meeting their counselors at the pickup/drop-off station. Momo and I noticed a fat little red bird hopping on a bench at the same time. We both sort of mentally gasped at how cute the bird was. Then we looked at each other and laughed. It was one of those pure, happy moments you can only share with an eight-year-old full of wonder. Ever since our little bird connection, Momo has become increasingly attached to me. The camp director said she’s never seen a camper get attached to a counselor this quickly. Apparently we will all be sobbing wrecks on the last day.

“It’s beautiful,” I say. “Your pink sequins are pretty.”

“They’re rhinestones,” Momo corrects.

“Oh, sorry. They’re really pretty.”

“Do you have a jewelry box?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Momo doesn’t need to know that almost all of the items I own are necessities. With the exception of my fabulous wardrobe expansion, thanks to Darcy. I still feel guilty about her generosity.

“I don’t have that much jewelry,” I tell her. “I just keep it in a container.”

“Like a Tupperware container?”

“Sort of.”

“Every girl should have a jewelry box,” Momo proclaims.

“You’re right. A lot of things should be the way they aren’t.”

Momo turns the jewelry box around, inspecting all sides of it. “Do you think it needs more glitter?”

“You can never have too much glitter.”

“I know, right?” Momo selects the purple glitter. She looks around for glue.

“Let me get you some glue,” I say. The other tables don’t have any free glue. I go up to the service window on the side of the arts and crafts hut. The arts and crafts director is inside, loading metal tubs onto a shelf.

“Sorry to bother you, Shirley, but is all the glue out?”

“Good question,” Shirley says. She swings around to peer out at the tables. Her long, colored feather earrings flutter around her face. “We might have some more in one of these tubs. A bunch of supplies just came in. Let me—” The metal tub Shirley was holding falls to the cement floor with a loud clang. “Yeah. There wasn’t anything fragile in this one, was there?”