23. Andrea

CHAPTER 23

Andrea

" W hy would you take several clearly drunk texts I sent at one in the morning as confirmation you could actually throw a party here?"

I whirl around to face Brayden after locking the front door. He's wearing board shorts and a t-shirt for a band who seem to be really into Viking aesthetics.

"It just seemed really hardcore of you," he says, holding his hands up to feign innocence.

He is not innocent. Once I dealt with the whole puking into the sink situation, the first thing I did was run outside—through the front door, rather than the deck door, since the last thing I want is for anyone to get into the house—and start shrieking Brayden's name while I waded through the crowd to find him.

He was in the middle of setting up a keg, and I could tell after a few seconds of screaming at him that he was already a couple beers in. The music was so loud I had to drag him all the way around the house and pull him inside to stand a chance of getting my message across. My message is that he needs to shut this party down and get everyone out of here in the next ten minutes.

"Well, I'm not interested in being hardcore today," I tell him. "Are you going to stop this party or not?"

Instead of marching out there to shut the music off, he leans against the wall and tilts his head to the side. "You seem really stressed out. Do you want me to grab you a beer?"

I let out a scream. "Brayden, this party cannot be happening, and I have a feeling those people are not going to listen to me if I try to get them out of here myself. You need to shut this down."

"Okay, Okay." He pushes off the wall and lifts his hands again. "I'll do my best. You sure you don't want a beer, though? Seems like you have a lot going on, and sometimes a beer and a bit of headbanging is all you need to fix that, you know?"

I stare at him for a couple seconds, and once it sinks in that he's being completely serious, I can't help it.

I burst out laughing.

I double over and laugh so hard my ribs ache. I stagger across the entryway end up slumped against the wall, still howling as I slide all the way down to a seat on the cold tiled floor.

"Uh…" Brayden says.

The quick glance I take at his freaked out expression just makes me laugh even more. It's not even funny. None of this is funny, but my body doesn't seem to be getting the message.

"I'm sorry," I wheeze once I can finally speak again. "Uh, yeah, you could say I have a lot going on."

Another bark of laughter bursts out of me before I go on.

"This is my dad's house. I'm supposed to be taking care of it, and now my mom is going to show up here any minute and see I'm actually destroying it, which is not going to surprise her because she's used to me being disappointing."

I ball my fists up in the sleeves of my hoodie and stare straight at my knees as the words pour out of me. I'm sure Brayden's probably plotting an escape from the girl having a complete mental breakdown on the floor, but I can't stop.

"I'm supposed to fly back to Toronto tomorrow and commit myself to finally being the perfect daughter, but I'm not the perfect daughter, and I think for the first time in my life I'm actually…okay with that? Except it's still terrifying, and also on top of all of that, I think I'm in love with this girl I really messed things up with. I have to go find her and tell her that before it's too late, but there's a raging heavy metal party out there destroying my dad's backyard, and my mom is probably pulling into the driveway as we speak."

The thump of the bass outside and the muffled shouts from the party fill the silence that falls once I'm done.

"Oh," Brayden says after a couple seconds tick by.

"Yeah," I say. I look up and grimace at him, all the laughter now drained from my body. "That about sums it up."

He steps closer and crouches down in front of me until we're eye to eye.

"Andrea," he says, "that is very hardcore. I'm going to go stop this party so you can go find that girl."

He straightens up and heads to the kitchen. I hear the sliding door screech open before the volume from outside increases by what feels like fifteen decibels. I get to my feet to run over and lock the door behind him, but it seems like nobody even noticed him slip outside. He's disappeared into the crowd. I stand with my nose pressed against the glass, my foot tapping out a deranged rhythm as I wait to see what happens.

There's no way we'll clear them all out before my mom gets here, but things might go marginally better if she shows up and finds a crazy party ending instead of one in full-swing.

I'm considering cracking the door open to see what's taking him so long when the boom of the music shuts off. There's a split-second of silence out on the deck, and then I hear the rumble of murmuring voices and some shouted complaints.

The whole party turns to look as Brayden's head and shoulders pop up above the crowd on the deck. He must have jumped up on one of the tables. I can't make out everything he's saying through the glass, but it doesn't take long for his announcement about the party ending to get drowned out by a chorus of ‘Boo!' from all sides of the yard.

Brayden tries to wave down the protests, but he's interrupted by a scuffle of movement in the crowd, and the next second, he disappears from view. A few people start cheering, and then a wide enough path is cleared for me to see why: two ridiculously buff dudes have grabbed Brayden by his arms and legs and are carrying him to the side of the pool.

Somebody figures out how to get the music going again, and the whole party claps and stomps along as Brayden's captors swing him back and forth over the edge of the water. I wince at the splash as they finally let go and dump him into the pool, right alongside my last hope for stopping this party in time.

I back away from the door, my mind scrambling to come up with some way to make it look like I'm not getting my father's house destroyed. I still have no idea what I'm going to tell my mom today. I know whatever I say is not going to go well, but it's going to go extra bad against the backdrop of the MTV Spring Break scene playing out in front of me.

I jog back to the entryway after I decide the only chance I have at improving the situation is meeting my mom out on the street before she can get to the house and see just how bad things are. I bend down to pull my sneakers on and then freeze at the sound of knuckles rapping against the front door.

I don't even have to look up to know I'm too late.

She's here.

Inch by inch, I lift my gaze from the floor to face my mother's glare on the other side of the glass. She's wearing black cigarette pants and a flowy white top, her dyed blonde hair pulled into the signature high ponytail she's still known for from all her old Pilates DVDs. Her posture is as perfect as a prima ballerina's, but her face looks like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

She knocks again, harder this time.

My knees shake as I get to my feet. I reach for the door handle, and she doesn't even wait for me to pull it all the way open before she storms past me into the house.

"Andrea, what the hell is going on here?"

She doesn't bother stopping or giving me a second look as she glides through the entryway and then turns the corner into the kitchen. I take a step forward, reaching a hand out like I can pull her back through sheer force of will alone, but my mumbled plea for her to wait goes unnoticed.

"What are all those cars—"

Her question gets cut off by a gasp so loud I almost expect to hear her drop unconscious on the kitchen floor.

I follow her into the kitchen, dragging my feet like I'm walking up to a firing squad, and find her standing facing the deck with her mouth hanging open and her face getting redder by the second. She turns at the sound of my footsteps. Her jaw opens and closes a few times but no sound comes out. Her eyes look like they're about to pop out of her head.

The only other time I've seen her look even close to this mad was when I told her I was moving to Montreal whether she liked it or not.

Just like that day, the sight of her makes my hands tremble so hard I have to squeeze them into fists to keep the tremors from travelling all the way up my arms. My skin breaks out in a cold sweat, and the floor seems to tilt and sway under my feet.

She hurls one word at me.

" Why? "

I drop my gaze to the floor.

"It was a mistake. I didn't mean to—"

She cuts me off with a scoff. "You didn't mean to invite a bunch of drunk strangers over to destroy your father's property the day before I'm supposed to take you back to Toronto? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? Do you really expect me to buy that?"

My shoulders curl inwards, and my chin drops closer to my chest.

I thought I could talk to her. I wasn't expecting a miracle, but I thought we could at least get somewhere , like I did with my dad.

Now I see that even without a giant party emphasizing just how disappointing I am with every thump of the bass, I wouldn't have been able to stand up to her. When we're face to face like this, I choke. I always choke on everything she wants me to be until I'm too suffocated to be who I am.

"I just don't get it," she says. "When you started doing things like this in high school, I figured it was just a phase. I expected more from you, but still, I thought it would pass. When you decided to waste a whole year of your life partying in Montreal, I thought that would pass too. I made excuses for you. I told myself you just needed to get it out of your system, and then you'd be ready to become the person I know you can be, but this …"

My head is so heavy I can't lift it even an inch, but I still see the whirl of movement as she sweeps her hand out towards the deck.

"I just don't get it," she continues. "Your whole life, you've been telling me how much the company means to you, how you can't wait to get started there, and I've done everything I can to make sure you're ready for that. I've always thought of it as our company, ever since you were a little girl and you told me that's what you wanted. I've been building this for us, so we have something no one can ever take away. I wanted you to have something in your life you could always count on, but that means you need to step up and commit to it, and this…this is not commitment."

I hear a loud splash outside, and she makes a disgusted sound as she watches whatever is happening in the pool.

"Can you at least tell me why?" she asks after a moment. "I've tried so hard to understand it, Andrea, and I just can't imagine why you keep doing this. I've given you everything you need to succeed, and you keep throwing it all in my face."

I'm still staring down at the floor. The lump in my throat is getting even bigger. Soon I won't be able to breathe at all.

"Are you going to say something?"

My head is spinning. I can't get enough oxygen. This is exactly how I used to feel in Toronto, right before I'd sneak out of the house to go do something stupid with my friends just so I could feel the pressure lift from my lungs for a couple hours.

"Are you going to answer me, Andrea?"

Her voice is louder now but still edged with icy control despite the rage I can feel rolling off her.

"Are you even going to look at me?"

I clench my fists so hard my hands ache, but I still can't make myself look up. I can't face knowing what she sees when she looks at me.

She sighs like she didn't expect any different and then starts digging through her purse.

"I'm calling the cops to come deal with this disaster. If doesn't take all evening to get the yard in order, I'll see if my assistant can switch our flight to tonight. We'll talk more about this at home."

I can't leave tonight.

I can't leave without seeing Naomi, without telling her the truth, even if it's too late for the truth to change anything.

Even if the truth isn't enough.

For a moment, she's all I can see: the flash of that bright blue dress, a hint of a smile on her face as tucks her hair behind her ears.

I have to see her again, even if it's only just once.

My mom is already punching in a phone number when I find enough willpower to lift my chin and say, "No."

She freezes. "Excuse me?"

"I can't leave tonight."

Her gaze flicks over my face, her forehead creasing into an expression I can't read before she smoothes it out and sighs again.

"Andrea, you can't let just one more night turn into just one more year again. I know this isn't who you are, and if you just come back to Toronto, you'll—"

"So who am I?"

My voice is clearer now, and even though my hands are still shaking, I can meet her eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks as she lowers her phone.

"You said this isn't who I am, and I just…I just want to know who it is you think I am, because I'm starting to see that maybe…maybe that's not me. Maybe that's never been me."

She flinches and takes a step back. I clench my jaw to hold back the urge to apologize, to tell her I'm wrong, to promise I'll try harder next time.

Trying harder never made anything better for either of us.

"Andrea." There's the slightest tremor to her voice as she says my name, but she hardens her tone right after. "I don't know what made you lose sight of yourself as a teenager, but I never lost sight of you. When you were little, it was always your dream to—"

"Exactly," I cut in. "I was little ."

Her eyes flare at the interruption, but I widen my stance and refuse to back down.

I can breathe easier now. More air rushes into the room with every word I say, giving me the fuel I need to go on.

"And maybe what happened to me when I became a teenager was growing up. I'm not a little kid anymore, Mom. I have my own ideas and experiences. I'm my own person, and I tried so hard to squish that person into a box you built for me when I was small that I didn't have any room to grow into myself."

I see the hurt flooding her eyes, but I don't stop. If I stop now, I might never start again.

"I was suffocating, and all those times I acted out during high school were because I didn't know how else to breathe . I didn't run away to Montreal to party and waste my life. I went there because I needed to get out of that box and just be me for a minute."

She shakes her head and tries to say something when I pause for a breath, but still, I go on.

"Only it didn't work because it turns out I was so terrified finding myself would mean finding something you don't like that I gave up on finding myself at all. So yeah, I did kind of waste a year of my life messing around, until…until I showed up here, and I met this girl, and…"

I trail off as another image of Naomi flashes across my mind in such bright Technicolor it almost hurts to look at her. I picture her staring into my eyes while we danced in the market until it felt like the whole crowd disappeared. There was just us and the music, and that was more than enough.

That was everything.

"And she saw me," I say. "All of me. She knew I didn't have it all figured out, and she didn't care. She just wanted me to be me, whatever that looked like, and I didn't know how to handle it because I'd never felt anything like that before."

My mom presses a hand to her chest. Her purse has slipped down her arm, but she doesn't move to fix it. She just stares at me as pain starts to take over her face, warping her features in a way I haven't seen since the divorce.

"I don't want to disappoint you, Mom." My voice cracks, but I make myself continue. "I don't want to hurt you either. I don't want you to think I'm giving up on you, but…I also can't hurt myself."

She moves her hand from her chest to cover her mouth, her head shaking slowly from side to side. When she speaks from behind her fingers, her voice is hoarse.

"You…you don't want the internship, do you?"

The instincts that have ruled me for so long are screaming at me to tell her I do want it, to tell her I'm sorry and hope she'll give me another chance, or to at least say something that will soften the blow of the truth.

There's no getting around the truth, though.

"It's just not who I am anymore, Mom."

She takes a stumbling step backwards. I want to scream from how much it hurts to see her hurting like this, but I can't lie to her anymore. I can't lie to myself.

"I'm still figuring out what I want," I tell her, "but I know deep down, it's not in Toronto, and that's not because I don't love you or want to make you happy. I just want to make me happy too."

She drops both her arms to her sides. Her purse slides off and hits the floor, but she doesn't seem to notice. She spreads her hands like she's trying to pull her next words out of the air itself.

"Andrea, I…I've always wanted you to be happy. I just…I-I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything yet," I say. "I know it's a lot to take in. I get that. I just…I can't get on that plane, Mom."

She takes a shaky breath and then bends to grab her purse. Once she's straightened back up and slipped the strap over her shoulder, some of her usual stony composure seems to have returned.

"I know you think that," she says, "but have you considered maybe you're…you're doing all this for that girl? Because people leave, Andrea. People let you down. People give up, and—"

For the first time since she walked in here, my skin starts to heat with anger.

I'm not going to let her bring Naomi into this. This is between me and her.

"I'm the one who gave up," I cut in. "I'm the one who let her down. I might have messed things up forever, but I'm still not moving back to Toronto, because that really isn't about her. It's about me. For once, it's about me. I'd say the same thing even if I knew she'd never speak to me again."

I have to squeeze my eyes shut as the possibility sinks in.

Naomi was right that night at the open mic; our story was just getting started, but I slammed the book shut in the middle of the first chapter, and now I might not ever be able to pry it open again.

"I just don't want you making a mistake and ending up hurt," my mom says. "I've always tried to keep you safe from that."

"But you can't," I tell her, shaking my head. "You can't keep me safe from that, and…I don't want you to. I am hurt. It hurts every single time I think of her, but even if I feel like that for the rest of my life, I'd never give back what I got to have."

A soft sound from over by the entryway makes us both freeze. The noise of the party makes it hard to tell, but I could have sworn I heard somebody gasp.

"Hello?" my mom calls. "Is someone there?"

The only answer we get is the continued pounding of the music outside. I share a glance with my mom and then backtrack a few steps so I can peer into the entryway.

All the air gets knocked out of my lungs.

"Naomi?" I wheeze.

She's pressed against the wall right around the corner, her eyes wide and her face going paler by the second.

"I'm sorry!" she yelps. "We heard about the party, and then Shal got in a car and we couldn't let her come alone because she's drunk, and then I let myself in to look for you, and I heard…"

Her voice peters out and her eyes somehow get even rounder as her gaze darts between me and the kitchen, where my mom is still hovering out of sight

"I'll just go now," she squeaks, already backing away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to listen in. I—"

I step closer.

"Naomi, wait."

She goes still as I walk over until there are only a couple feet of space left between us. I don't close the distance. I don't know where we stand. All I know is that I can't stop staring at her, that I never want to stop staring at her, that I'm drinking the sight of her in like she's a thundering waterfall and I haven't had even a drop to drink in days.

I watch her throat bob as she swallows, and then she speaks in a low voice.

"You did let me down."

I wince, pain radiating through my ribcage as I brace for her to turn and leave.

"But I think maybe I needed that," she adds. "I needed to know I could count on myself."

I open my mouth to answer, but before I get a chance, I hear footsteps behind me and see her eyes go wide again as she stares over my shoulder at my mom. I glance behind me too and see her watching me and Naomi with an expression that almost looks tender before she catches me staring and wipes it off her face.

"I'm going back to the hotel," she announces. "I…I need to think about all this."

We step aside as she crosses the entryway. She turns to walk back over to us just before she reaches the door and then thrusts her hand out towards Naomi.

"I'm Valerie. I apologize for us needing to meet like this."

Naomi accepts the handshake, her eyes now so wide I'd laugh if I felt like it were possible to find anything about this moment funny.

"I-I'm Naomi, and, um, no problem."

My mom shifts her purse back into place and then heads for the door. She looks back at me once she's pulled it open, and I see it again, for just another second: that tenderness, that softness I've always been looking for but never found.

"Andrea…I do want you to be happy. I always have."

She leaves before I have a chance to answer. I stand there staring after her for so long Naomi asks if I'm okay.

I nod even though I wouldn't say ‘okay' is the best word for how I'm feeling. Then I ask, "How much of that did you hear?"

"I think all of it. I'm pretty sure I showed up just after she did."

I wince as I start replaying the whole conversation, trying to gauge what Naomi's reaction must have been.

Then I realize it doesn't matter. She heard the truth, and the truth is all I can give her.

She heard the truth, and she's still here.

"Andrea, I—"

She takes a step closer, but I interrupt before she can say more.

"I know I messed up. I'm so sorry. I hurt you. I should have stepped up for you. I'm just so sorry, Naomi."

She tilts her head, two faint lines appearing between her eyebrows as she considers me for a moment.

"I get it now," she says. "After hearing that, it all makes sense. I didn't know just how bad it was for you with your family. I forgive you."

"You do?"

For the first time today, she smiles, and my whole body blooms with warmth.

"Yeah, of course. I know it wasn't about me at all, and I'm just happy you don't have to feel like that about yourself anymore."

She closes the space between us, but I don't reach for her yet, not before I know this isn't too good to be true.

"Look, I know I'm a giant mess right now," I tell her, "but I won't be forever. I don't expect you to say yes to this, but I just have to know if maybe…maybe someday we could give this another shot?"

She leans her head closer to mine, and my heartbeat booms louder than the music outside.

"Someday?" she asks.

"Yeah, someday. I don't need to know when. I just—"

"How about today?"

Then she tilts her head and presses her mouth to mine. My eyes close, and in the next second, we're pressed tight together, our arms weaving around each other until it feels like we're closer than we've ever been. A million tiny explosions flare across the backs of my eyelids when she parts her lips and gasps against me as my fingertips press hard against her back.

We kiss for so long my knees go weak and I'm in danger of pulling us both down right here on the entryway floor, but she tips her head back just in time and grins at me with hazy eyes.

"Yeah," I say between panting breaths, "today sounds good."

She laughs, and the sound is like hearing a song I've spent years searching for.

My attempt to lean in for another kiss is interrupted by yet another splash followed by a round of cheering in the backyard.

"So, um, are you going to explain why there are a bunch of metalheads having a party out there?" Naomi asks.

"That is…a long and embarrassing story." I sigh and loosen my grip on her. "I really need to do something about that situation before they destroy anything else, but to be honest, I kind of just want to kiss you more."

She lets out the cutest little hum of agreement and starts to lean back in towards me.

Then somebody knocks on the kitchen door.

"Thank god I locked that," I mutter as the knocking continues, getting louder and faster by the second.

"Wow, they really want in," Naomi says.

The knocking doesn't let up, and after a few more seconds, a voice I'm pretty sure I recognize starts chanting loud enough for us to hear through the glass.

"OPEN UP! OPEN UP! OPEN UP!"

"Does that sound like Shal to you?" I ask.

Naomi squints as she listens to the chanting for another second before she nods.

"Yeah, it does. Priya is here too. We saw someone's post about the party and decided to, uh, make a dramatic appearance."

I hadn't even gotten to wondering why they were here yet, but as soon as I do, I gasp and let go of her so I can cover my mouth with my hands.

"Oh my god, you must have thought I was throwing a party without you guys," I say as my blood runs cold, "and that I wasn't even sad about leaving. I'm so sorry. I—"

"It's okay. You can give me the long and embarrassing story later. I think—"

She cuts herself off as the knocking gets so loud I fear for the door. We take off into the kitchen, and sure enough, Shal is standing in front of the glass clutching a Solo cup in one hand and the ridiculously giant bicep of a huge bearded dude with the other.

He's got about six different facial piercings and is wearing a Metallica t-shirt over a bathing suit. He looks as confused as I am about why Shal is holding his arm.

I lift up the lock and then crack the door open enough for Shal to speak to us.

"You guysssss!" she shrieks, swaying a little on her feet. "I'm gonna finish the bucket list! This is my new best friend, um…"

She turns her head and blinks at him. He looks back and forth between me, her, and Naomi like he's hoping someone will tell him what's going on.

"Uh, my name is Bones," he rumbles in a deep voice.

"Yeah, Bones!" Shal shouts. "He's hilarious. Like, his name is Bones . That's so funny. So yeah, I decided he's my new friend. Checking that off the list! Also, I decided if Priya is allowed to count falling in love with the potential of love or whatever the hell she was talking about, then I am allowed to count being in love with myself ."

She beams at us like she's just announced she's found the cure to cancer.

"Oh! That's, um, really nice, Shal," Naomi says after a moment.

"Isn't it? So yeah, checking that off!" Shal draws a giant check mark in the air with her Solo cup, beer sloshing over the rim to land on the deck boards.

"Well, thank you for telling us that," I add. "Maybe you should come inside and let Bones go back to—"

She ignores me and presses her face into the gap between the sliding door and the edge of the doorframe to shout, "We need to jump in the pool!"

Naomi and I glance at each other again.

"We do?"

"Yes! Priya, me, you two, and Bones! We need to have a big end of summer moment!"

"Um…" I say before turning to Naomi for some backup.

Instead of trying to lure Shal inside with me, she stands tapping her chin for a second before she shrugs.

"Okay. Why not?"

I gawk at her, but she just grins.

"I think we should do it."

We shouldn't. What we should be doing is shutting this party down before someone really does call the cops or another several thousand dollar statue gets smashed, if that hasn't happened already, but then she reaches for my hand and whines, "Pleeeease?"

I can't help thinking back to my first few days here, when she'd literally tuck and roll just to avoid having to speak to me in the house.

We've come a long way since then.

"Okay," I say, mirroring her grin now, "but we have to go around the other way so I can keep this door locked."

Shal frowns and starts shouting protests when we try to explain the plan to her, but we get her to stop trying to shove her head inside long enough to lock the door. We both shriek with laughter as we sprint out the front door and race each other to the backyard. By the time we get to the pool, Shal is standing at the edge with a baffled Bones on one side of her and a reluctant Priya hovering a few feet back from the water on the other.

"Oh no," Priya groans once we've fought through the crowd to claim a spot beside her. "Has she tried to rope you into this too?"

Naomi laughs and grabs Priya's hand before taking hold of mine too.

"She's succeeded. Come on." She pulls us both up to the very edge of the pool. "Shal has a point. This is a pretty great end of summer moment."

Priya gives a pointed look at the heavy metal fans all headbanging to whatever hardcore anthem just started booming through the speakers, and Naomi laughs again.

"Okay, yeah, it's weird," she says, "but what about this summer hasn't been?"

Priya can't argue with that, and neither can I. Shal waves her arms around to get the crowd's attention as she begins to count down from ten. By the time she's reached the last few seconds, the entire party is shouting along with her.

"THREE! TWO! ONE! GO! "

I leap off the edge, Naomi's hand still clutching mine as we soar through the air before crashing through the surface of the water.

Everything turns muffled and slow. Bubbles swarm past my ears as I let myself sink down to the very bottom of the pool.

The world is quiet down here. With nothing but the echoes from the roiling surface and the thump of my heartbeat to fill my ears, I can imagine there's no party to deal with at all. There's no mom or dad to deal with either. There are no questions to ask or plans for the future to figure out.

For a moment, it all hovers above me, a weight I know will crash down on me as soon as I come up for air.

But I need to breathe, and Naomi's hand is tugging me up to join her.

I kick off the floor of the pool and shoot up to breach the surface, sucking in a deep breath the second I do. I blink my eyes open to find Naomi's face just inches away from mine.

I stare at the water droplets clinging to her eyelashes, at the strands of blonde hair plastered to the sides of her face, at the blue of her eyes reflecting the shimmering ripples and waves in the pool, and I decide ‘weird' was an understatement.

This has been the most unexpected and utterly chaotic summer of my life, but I wouldn't change a single second of it because somehow, this summer led me to her.