Chapter 1 Liana

Liana hadn't expected the cheers and whoops that rang out when she entered the restaurant. A group of three middle-aged women, clearly drunk at noon on a Sunday, clapped excitedly as Liana and her mother made their way across the restaurant. Somehow, the three women made enough noise to be heard over the steady bass thrum of the techno music blasting from the dimly lit DJ booth. The DJ, unperturbed, continued bobbing his head to the beat, engrossed in his Sunday brunch gig.

"Our Liana is here!" cried Milena, the loudest of the loud bunch. Milena jumped to her feet, grabbed Liana's face with both hands, and smushed her cheeks as if Liana were a small child and not twenty-six years old.

"Look at you!" cried Karen, pulling Liana out of Milena's grasp and wrapping her in a soul-crushing hug, followed by a kiss on each cheek. She pulled back, gave Liana a long look, and nodded, seemingly satisfied with what she saw. She smoothed her hands down Liana's arms and said, "It's good to have you back, kid."

Ana, always the calmest of her mom's friends, clasped Liana's hand and air-kissed her once. Always immaculately put together, Ana wore a navy sweater tied around her neck and oversized sunglasses, despite the fact that they were indoors. "Come, darling, and sit."

Liana and her mom, Deb, took their seats, and Milena handed Deb some sort of tropical-looking drink with two little umbrellas and a slice of pineapple on top. "Try this!" Milena demanded. "Ana says it's too sweet, but I tell you, it's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted."

Deb took a small sip and made a face. "That's vile, Milena."

"Pssh, you're just wrong," said Milena, gesturing wildly with the drink back in hand. "Liana, I was going to say you're not old enough to drink, but I can't believe it; you are. Our little baby is all grown up. Just yesterday I was changing your Pampers, and now look at you. An adult. You try this drink and tell me it's not delicious." She shoved the drink under Liana's nose, the forcefulness indicative of her drunkenness.

Deb gently helped Milena set the drink down. "I can't believe it either, but my baby is all grown up," Deb said. "She doesn't want your drink, though, Milena."

"Yeah," said Karen. "Don't pressure our girl to drink."

"It's fine," said Liana. "I don't want any, Milena, but thanks so much. It looks really good."

Ana let out a laugh. "Still such a sweet girl. She knows when to tell a little white lie."

Milena's face was full of mock horror. "Don't be mad that everyone else thinks the drink looks good. It's not their fault you have bad taste."

"Oh, please," Ana countered. "You just ordered that drink because of the name."

"And why not?" replied Milena. "I'm Too Sexy on the Beach? So fun and trendy!"

"It's just a regular Sex on the Beach," Karen whisper-hissed to Liana. "But she thought it was extra fancy because of the name."

"This place makes it different. See how cool this place is, Liana? Isn't it so trendy?" Milena gestured to the gold lights, pale green booths, and tropical-inspired decor. "I found the restaurant. We do boozy brunch once a month, as your mom probably told you, and it was my turn to pick this time. I found this place on the blogs. The blogs said it's the next up-and-coming place in South Beach."

Ana rolled her eyes. "‘The blogs,'" she said, pulling her fingers into air quotes.

"Oh, please," Milena continued, unperturbed. "At least I know how to use technology. You just got an iPhone last year. You insisted on using a BlackBerry until they went out of business, because you had ‘only just upgraded' from your flip phone. I bet you'd still be using only landlines and fax machines if you had your way."

"Yes, I would." Ana nodded solemnly. "Have you seen the effects of modern technology on kids these days? There are so many studies. We all survived just fine before the internet. We actually talked to each other. Had real conversations."

"Well, we're here talking now," said Karen, clearly trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. "We're all so happy to see you, Liana. And we're just thrilled that you moved back home. I know your mom is so happy to see you living at home again."

Deb grasped her daughter's hand. "I am."

"It's been way too long since we've seen you, mija," Milena said, and Liana agreed. Liana's mom, Deb, had grown up with Milena, Karen, Ana in a suburban part of Miami, and they had all stayed friends since high school. Liana considered her mom's friends to be surrogate parents; they were in her life frequently growing up, especially after her parents' split.

Seeing the group's big personalities made her feel at home in a way she hadn't felt in a long time, despite having been back in Miami for a few months. She was glad that she was finally feeling well enough to attend their brunch after being invited for months. Liana had hoped that some of the other women's daughters would join, but no such luck. Apparently, Ana's two kids were busy, and Karen's daughter was away at college.

Even without anyone else from her generation here, Liana felt the comfort of being around familiar faces. She also had to admit she'd missed the beautiful scenery of her hometown. The restaurant was on the third floor of an old art deco building, and the floor-to-ceiling windows offered an unbeatable view of Biscayne Bay. Liana sighed happily as she took in the ocean sights: the pelicans swooping down into the ocean to grab unseen fish, the small boats jetting across the water, the Brickell skyscrapers glinting on the other side of the bay. Moving home hadn't exactly been her plan, but she had to admit there were positives. There was just something about the Miami ocean that sparkled with possibility.

"So, my love," said Milena, grasping Liana's hands. "Tell me, what are you up to these days?"

"She's still recovering from a major surgery and getting her health back," Deb said quickly — a tad defensively, Liana thought. Liana was slightly annoyed. She was an adult; she'd lived on her own for over seven years. She didn't need her mom answering for her or fighting her battles anymore.

"That's wonderful that you're feeling better," Karen said, even though those weren't quite the words Deb had used. "We are all so happy that you made it through that tough time. The recovery is going well?"

"It is," Liana confirmed. "In fact, I just had my eight-week follow-up appointment with my surgeon, and he cleared me to start exercising again, which was the last official milestone I had to pass."

"That's wonderful!" said Karen enthusiastically.

"Oooh! Oooh!" cried Milena suddenly, raising her hand as if she were in a sixth grade classroom. "I've got an idea! A really good idea!"

"Uh oh," said Deb. "If Milena thinks it's a good idea, we'd better all duck and cover."

"Shut up, Ms. Stuck-Up Teacher. I've got a wonderful idea. Liana, you simply must come to this week's pickleball class with us!"

Ana rolled her eyes. "Liana doesn't want to hang out with her mom's friends. We are a bunch of middle-aged women, Milena. Let the girl spend her time with people her own age."

"Let her speak for herself!" insisted Milena. She turned to Liana. "I promise, pickleball is amazing when you're recovering from surgery. You know I had a hysterectomy last year, and that's when I signed us all up for pickleball over at the Pine Heights Country Club. It's been the best thing for us — all of us — but especially me, gaining my confidence back after my health challenges. You can make pickleball as difficult or as easy as you want it to be, and it's an open class, meaning there are all skill levels. Including some ninety-year-old ladies who can barely walk two steps. Trust me, everyone is welcome. Even Ana has been able to play with her bad knee, and it's been great."

"It has," Ana agreed begrudgingly.

"I have heard good things about pickleball from my mom," Liana said. "Mom, what do you think? Should I go to the class?"

"It's up to you, honey. You might enjoy it, and I agree that you can use the class to ease back into exercise, but you would be the youngest person in the class by quite a few years. It's completely up to you. No pressure."

Ana nudged Liana with her elbow. "If it influences your decision, it doesn't hurt that our instructor is a real looker." She gave Liana a knowing side glance.

Karen nodded vigorously and fanned herself to emphasize the point. "He's so dreamy. And he's just about your age, Liana."

"Oh, and he tells the wittiest jokes!" Milena added. "That man is just full of jokes! Last Tuesday, I hit such a terrible shot, straight at his head. He jumped out of the way, but I was just so embarrassed! But James goes, ‘Don't worry, Milena, the ball can be a fickle pickle.' He has so many puns, and he just pulls them out of his hat. He comes up with them on the spot, like that!" She snapped for emphasis.

Liana thought the man might come up with his jokes in advance, but what did she know? Plus, she didn't want to ruin Milena's fun. "I'll think about joining the class," said Liana, still unsure, but wanting to appease Milena.

The rest of the brunch passed uneventfully, and the women parted with many cheek kisses and promises to invite Liana to the next boozy brunch. Deb was slightly tipsy, so Liana decided she would walk the three blocks to get the car and drive back to the restaurant to pick her mom up.

Just as Liana reached the car, she heard someone call her name from down the block. She turned to find a beautiful woman with shiny hair, dressed in a white Alo workout set and resplendent in a full face of glam makeup.

"Hey, Jessica!" Liana tried to muster up some enthusiasm to greet her former high school classmate, suddenly embarrassed that she hadn't bothered to put on any makeup for brunch with her mom's friends. Jessica Barnes was the same beauty she had been at eighteen, aside from a few noticeable additions like eyelash extensions and lip fillers.

"Oh my gosh, I thought that was you!" Jessica gushed, pulling Liana in for a hug and air kiss. Jessica smelled like some sort of expensive floral perfume. "It's been forever! Like, I don't think I've seen you since new year's eve of our sophomore year of college! How are you? Are you still living in L.A.?"

"I'm doing well. I actually just moved back here."

"That's great! We should hang out soon. Maybe a hot girl walk? Ooh, or a kickboxing class. I've been soooo into kickboxing these days. That's where I'm headed right now, actually. Equinox just started this new kickboxing circuit class, and it totally kicks my ass, but it'll make your legs look amazing." Jessica eyed Liana up and down, and Liana sensed Jessica zeroing in on Liana's scrawny figure, her distinct lack of muscles or curves, and her spindly legs that just three months ago were too weak even to carry her up a flight of stairs.

Liana wanted to melt into the ground, or to tell Jessica that even if, by some miracle, she made it through more than three minutes of a kickboxing class, there was no way she could afford an Equinox membership. Instead, she said, "Yeah, that'd be great."

She told herself to be open to Jessica's friendship; she needed more friends now that she'd moved back to Miami. But damn, why did this city have to be so small? Why couldn't she have one brunch without running into someone she knew?

"What are you doing these days?" asked Jessica. "Are you still working at that big Hollywood studio?"

"No, I'm actually between jobs since I decided to move back to Miami," Liana said, cursing herself for her honesty. She should have made up some job, any job, so as not to sound so pathetic in front of Jessica.

"They wouldn't let you go remote, huh?" Jessica stuck out her plump lower lip sympathetically. "Some companies are still so old-fashioned. Like, we're living in the post-pandemic world, but some companies are out there pretending it's 1995 and the internet doesn't exist."

Liana decided not to correct either of Jessica's assumptions: that there was no internet in 1995, and that Liana had quit her job over the issue of remote work. Hoping to change the subject, she asked Jessica, "What do you do?"

"Oh, I work in marketing at Salesforce!" Jessica said excitedly. Clearly she'd wanted Liana to ask. "I actually just got promoted to senior manager!"

"Congrats," said Liana in what she hoped was a sufficiently enthusiastic voice.

"Thanks!" said Jessica. "Oh, and look!" She thrust the back of her left hand at Liana's face, and Liana was momentarily blinded by a giant diamond ring.

"Johnny proposed!" Jessica squealed. Liana vaguely recalled seeing a guy in Jessica's recent TikToks.

"That's great. How did he propose?" She figured Jessica would love talking about that.

Jessica's face lit up. "Oh, it was incredible. He took me to dinner at Papi Steak, and afterward, we went for a walk along the water. We saw this old guy driving a yacht, and he pulled up next to us, and Johnny goes, ‘Let's get on.' It turns out, it was our yacht! Johnny bought a yacht! Can you believe it?"

Never having met Johnny, Liana wasn't sure whether she could believe it, but she indulged Jessica. "Amazing."

"I know, right? Johnny was just so lucky — he made some super smart investments. He has such a good eye for knowing what's about to get big." She leaned in conspiratorially. "He made a fortune on crypto. And he invested in NFTs in 2021 — you know the purple gorilla ones? — and he sold them before that whole market crashed. So we've been really fortunate."

Some people did have all the luck, Liana thought. "And what does Johnny do?"

Jessica blinked, confused by the question. "He's an investor, like I said. Anyway, once we got on the yacht, we drove out into the bay, and just as the sun was setting, Johnny got down on one knee and asked me to spend the rest of my life with him."

"So romantic," Liana said in what she hoped was the response Jessica was looking for.

"I know!" Jessica squealed. "Of course I had been dropping little hints to him about the ring I wanted, but he did such a good job picking the ring, don't you think?"

"Definitely. Hey Jessica, sorry to cut this short, but my mom is waiting for me to pick her up. Let's catch up really soon, though."

"Yes! It was so good running into you! I'm so happy you're back in town. You were always such a good influence on me in high school. My mom always said to stay close to you. She said you'll go far in life. I'm sorry we fell out of touch these last couple of years, but now that you're back, we can hang out again! Us career girls have to stick together."

Liana gave a half-nod, trying to extricate herself from the conversation, but Jessica wasn't done talking. "There are so many people from our high school who are just trying to be influencers, you know? Not that there's anything wrong with that," Jessica hastened to add, "I have 20,000 followers myself, but some of these people have like a thousand followers and they call themselves influencers. Like, what do you even do all day? I'd simply die if I didn't have the pressure of a real job, you know?"

"Yeah, totally." Liana was already opening her car door in an attempt to end the conversation. "See you really soon, Jessica. I'll text you soon." She hoped karma wouldn't come back to get her for telling a lie.

◆◆◆

Later, sitting on her childhood bed, Liana couldn't stop thinking about the conversation with Jessica. Though she'd never say something so rude out loud, Liana had secretly thought that Jessica was fairly unremarkable in high school. Jessica was pretty, but she didn't particularly excel academically or athletically and wasn't part of the popular group. But now, here she was, successful in a high-powered career at a top company, engaged and with a yacht at age twenty-six.

Liana opened up Instagram, resigned to spending the night in yet another social media doom spiral. She'd gone through many over the past year, unable to stop looking at her high school friends' profiles and comparing herself unfavorably to them.

Less than eight years ago, Liana graduated high school as valedictorian, top of her class. She had been accepted to Yale, and her potential seemed limitless.

Two years ago, Liana had a boyfriend and a Hollywood job many would kill for.

Now, Liana had no job, no viable career prospects, no boyfriend, and little savings. She knew her mom would tell her to stop comparing herself to other people — "You run your own race," Deb often said — but Liana simply couldn't help it.

Dejectedly, Liana scrolled through her list of Instagram friends, looking to twist the knife a little deeper in her gut by finding some more people from high school who were winning at life. Naturally, the first person whose profile she sought was Mary Grace McMahon. Mary Grace was probably smarter than Liana in high school, and she also had several advantages in high school that Liana did not: Mary Grace was beautiful, popular, incredibly wealthy, and a star on the volleyball team.

She was also the twin sister of Liana's best friend, Tori, though Tori and Mary Grace couldn't be more different. They were fraternal twins, but nobody even guessed they were sisters. Tori kept her shoulder-length hair the twins' natural dirty blonde, while Mary Grace wore hers platinum blonde with hair extensions past her waist. Mary Grace wore the latest designers and loved dressing in head-to-toe labels, while Tori shopped secondhand and favored a colorful, artsy aesthetic she called "punk-rock princess meets Miami."

Though Tori and Mary Grace weren't particularly close, Tori frequently gave Liana updates on Mary Grace's life. After working at a top Wall Street investment firm, Mary Grace was now finishing her second year of business school at Wharton. Liana would never guess she went to school in Philly, though, based on the amount of posts geotagged from Miami and from travels in glamorous places around the world. If Instagram were any indication, Mary Grace appeared to still be with her high school boyfriend, James Alonso, now a professional tennis player. Mary Grace had tons of photos of her travels with James on the tennis circuit. Scrolling through Mary Grace's feed, Liana found photos of the happy couple kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower, the Sydney Opera House, and the Statue of Liberty. They'd also been to the Met Gala together.

Mary Grace's IG stories from the previous night featured Brock Templeton, the famed half-American, half-Australian "bad boy" of professional tennis. Liana supposed that Mary Grace had met Brock through James' tennis circle.

Brock was something of a minor celebrity, having skyrocketed to fame after a U.S. Open run in which he'd posted viral videos roasting each of his opponents the night before he played them. The night before he was to play Rafael Nadal in the U.S. Open final, Brock posted a video of Nadal hobbling with a cane wearing an adult diaper. Most tennis players had called for him to be kicked out of the Open. He'd been allowed to play and had trounced Nadal to win the U.S. Open.

Brock's fame and notoriety had only grown since then, and now Mary Grace was partying with him in a Fort Lauderdale club in Valentino pumps and the latest Dior bag.

Liana knew, on an intellectual level, that people born into wealth were afforded certain privileges, and that Mary Grace would always have a leg up that Liana didn't have. Liana was grateful for her upbringing in a beautiful Miami suburb. While her parents weren't wealthy, their jobs as a schoolteacher and an IT manager meant that Liana had always lived comfortably. Liana knew she'd been immensely lucky to have the childhood she'd had. No, she certainly couldn't complain about her upbringing or her parents' financial situation. Still, she knew that she couldn't really compare her life to Mary Grace's, not when Mary Grace had grown up flying on a private plane to her family's beachfront home in Saint Thomas.

Determined to torture herself by finding a more direct comparison to her own life, Liana kept scrolling Instagram to find someone whose good life couldn't be attributed to inherited wealth. She found Cynthia Miller-Chan, whom she knew came from a middle-class family. The first photo on Cynthia's feed was a selfie with Bill Gates. The caption read: "They say never meet your heroes, but if your hero is Bill Gates, 10/10 recommend meeting. Thanks for the honest heart to heart, Bill! #lifeatmicrosoft #ilovemicrosoft #teamPC."

Indeed, a quick LinkedIn search confirmed that Cynthia lived in Seattle and had just been promoted for the second time in three years at Microsoft. Instagram also showed Cynthia smiling with a man who was presumably her partner, holding a cute pit bull ("Happy International Adopt a Pittie Day! #adoptdontshop #misunderstooddogsmakethebestdogs #whoadoptedwhom").

Next Liana looked up one of her close friends in high school, Lucas, who was living it up in New York, his photos at Manhattan's hottest clubs featuring a rotating cast of attractive socialites. Lucas was studying for his PhD in neuroscience at Columbia, and Liana knew he was living the life he'd always dreamed of.

There was Anika, who lived in London and had just gotten engaged to a hot British guy. Ruth had just been named to the Forbes 30 Under 30 list for her "genius" mobile app. David and Mia were both about to graduate from med school. Eddie was at a top management consulting firm, and he made sure all of his Instagram followers knew he used his airline miles to maximum benefit, spending weekends everywhere from Hawaii to Saint Tropez. Even Mel, who'd been kind of a hanger-on to Liana's friend group in high school, seemed to have a large group of attractive friends with whom she went out on yachts every weekend.

How had everyone sped past Liana in a race she'd been winning at 18?

The final straw was seeing Christian, who'd been made fun of in elementary school for being unathletic. Liana had befriended Christian in second grade after seeing a group of boys taunting him for coming last in a P.E. relay race. Liana and Christian had been good friends for many years, but Christian had ditched her during their senior year of high school after spending hours at the gym each day and getting his dream body. Girls started noticing him, and he achieved the popularity he'd so desperately sought as a little kid.

Now, Christian was a top Miami personal trainer with half a million TikTok followers and sponsorships from household-name athletic brands. He certainly wouldn't qualify as one of those loser "so-called influencers" Jessica had derided. His most recent post showed him lifting weights with none other than Brock Templeton.

Brock Templeton again! How did everyone from Liana's high school in Miami somehow know Brock Templeton? A quick Google search confirmed that Brock went to high school in Australia. Was there some sort of recent meet-and-greet Liana had missed? Was this all some sort of cosmic joke that she didn't quite understand?

But the more important question was, how had Christian turned around his life so drastically, taking an upward trajectory while Liana's life had nosedived? If Christian could turn his life around, why couldn't she?

Maybe she'd train for a marathon, she thought. That was a discrete goal she could achieve, and she could humble-brag on Instagram and maybe feel a bit better about herself.

Who am I kidding? she thought. I can't even run half a mile .

Her email app lit up with a notification. Milena had emailed Liana a link to sign up for this week's pickleball class.

Well, it sure as hell wasn't a marathon, or even a 5K, but maybe a pickleball class could get her back in the swing of things. Sure, she probably wouldn't post on social media about playing pickleball with women more than twice her age, but maybe this could be the gateway to exercising again. Besides, Liana had nothing better to do on a Thursday afternoon; Tori would be working her typical long hours as a software engineer at one of Miami's trendiest tech companies. The monotony of unemployment stretched in front of Liana, and surely taking a couple hours off from sending out job applications would be good for her.

When even the least successful of her high school classmates still had steady jobs or stable relationships, Liana needed something — anything — to get herself back on track. A pickleball class was a stretch, but at least it was a consistent workout she could achieve. Maybe if she could achieve this one tiny goal of working out once a week, she could continue taking baby steps and eventually land a job. She'd at least be on the path of holding her head high again.

Yes; that was the plan. First, she'd work out consistently. Next, she'd get a job. Then, she'd start going out into the world again, reconnect with some high school classmates, and try to make some new friends. Maybe, down the line, she'd try dating again. Assuming that her chronic disease would cooperate with that plan, which was a big if.

Until then, she'd stick to places none of her high school classmates were likely to go. She'd hang out with her mom's friends for now. That would be safe. None of the twenty-something graduates of the elite Pine Heights High School would be attending a late-afternoon Thursday pickleball class with senior citizens; Liana was sure of that. The pickleball class would be a safe way to take a baby step out into society again after the trainwreck of the last years of her life.

◆◆◆

That Thursday, Liana was tentatively excited when she and her mom stepped out of the car at the Pine Heights Country Club. She'd have a low-pressure opportunity to play a pseudo-sport, and maybe do some low-stakes socializing with the elderly to get back in the habit of meeting new people.

But when she arrived at the court, her plan was immediately wrecked. A familiar face stared back at her — and he certainly wasn't elderly.

Liana stopped short, shocked. The tall, leanly muscular man looked back at her, an equally shocked expression on his face.

So much for not seeing anyone she knew. The teacher of this pickleball class appeared to be the one person Liana did not want to lose face in front of. Seriously , Liana thought, if I'd made a list of the top people I didn't want to see until I get a job and/or a boyfriend and/or some sort of life prospects, this person would be at the top of that list .

Why was he here? Was this a trick? Maybe he just looked like the most lusted-after boy in her high school class. Yes, it must be a trick of the light. Still, she'd check, just to make sure.

"James Alonso?" she asked.

"Liana Abrams," he responded.

Liana stifled a groan.