Slow Twitch - Реинхардт Лиз (читать книги онлайн без сокращений TXT) 📗

  “Don’t get all emotional on me now. Devon barely saved me back there with that gross-ass tissue I don’t even wanna think about.” We both laughed and quickened our steps to keep up with Devon’s frantic pace. “What I was saying before? At the pub? I just want you to know that I never had a friend like you. I know that sounds so stupid, ‘cause it’s like we just met and all--”

  I stopped in the street, in the middle of some shady section in Dublin I didn’t know and hugged her hard. “Shut up, right now. It’s not stupid. I love you, too.”

  She crushed me so tight, the air couldn’t clamp back into my lungs.

  The rest of the night was a crazed explosion of dancing madness, and Devon led us all with unbridled, insane enthusiasm. He danced like it was our last night of freedom, our last chance at happiness. Evan clung tight to us all night, and we drank in her flowery smell and her honey-thick laugh.

  By the time we trudged back to the dorms, it was closer to morning than night.

  “Ugh. You two better get some sleep. I have an essay to write.” Her lavender suede stilettos were hanging on her two fingers, slung over her shoulder.

  “Sleep,” Devon snorted, leading the way to my door. “I can’t hand in that stupid essay about the fucking birds and ocean. Ladies?”

  I yanked Evan into my room and the three of us set up our laptops and got typing. There wasn’t a sound except the steady clack of our fingers on the keys. I glanced up now and then to watch Evan, her eyes flying back and forth across the screen, and Devon, his entire face pinched and absolutely serious.

  It felt like my heart, every crazy thump, every joyous jump, had a direct line to my fingers, and every single word that splattered out on the page reflected this burning, desperate feeling, this honesty in me that was completely raw and true.

  “Evan?” I whispered after the last, final, agonizing reread.

  She looked up, so tired her eyes were slightly crossed, a sleepy, dreamy smile on her lips. “What’s up, sweetie?”

  “I wrote the truth. It’s so true it’s scary.” I licked my lips nervously.

  “That’s the only way to do it, sweets.” She tapped a finger along the top edge of her laptop. “And this…this is so true, it’s burning a hole in my gut just imagining it out there. And I can’t decide if it’s jibberish or Joyce-inspired.”

  “I bet it’s Joyce-surpassed.” Devon yawned, smiled, and snapped his laptop shut. “I sent mine to the drop box, so say a couple Hail Marys for me. I’ll leave you girls to finish. The sun is up, and I bet I can find us some coffee.” He stalked out of the room.

  Evan pushed her laptop off her legs, and I crawled over and hugged her tight. “I wish we had more time together, Bren. Maybe you can come down to Georgia?”

  “If I can, you know I will. Same to you. I want you to meet Jake. He would love you, and I know you’d be crazy about him.” I laid my head on her shoulder.

  She ducked her head and looked into my eyes, and her smile stretched soft and sweet, like taffy. “I can tell. You know, my sixth sense is strong with you. I can see so much love in your face when you talk about him. I really hope I get to meet your man. And I hope I can find that kind of love for myself. I’m going home to horrible times. I swear to you, I’m no cry-ass, but I’m feeling teary thinking about it.”

  I sat up straight, threw my arms around her shoulders, and shook her back and forth gently. “You don’t know that. You have no idea.” I took her hands in mind, ran my thumbs over the delicate ridges of her knuckles. “I have a feeling about you. This year, when you think you’re going to lose everything? This is going to be the most amazing year for you. You’re going to meet the right person. The polar opposite of that fucking douchebag Rabin. You’re going to have the most incredibly, awesome, blow-all-the-other-years-away year. Ever. I promise. Epic year.” I put every ounce of my confidence behind my words, praying she believed me.

  Tears pooled in her eyes, and this time she waved away my attempt to give her a tissue. “It’s okay. Let it all run off. I just wanna a good cry with you.” She leaned hard on my shoulder and I could feel warm tears and goopy mascara run down my arm. She cried and I cried and we both laughed at how ridiculous it all was. “We’re seriously gonna look a hot mess.”

  “I don’t care.” I wiped my tears away with my fingers and grabbed some napkins I’d stuffed in my purse after our last visit to Evan’s favorite coffee place. I rubbed as much of the blackish goop off of her face as I could, but her skin wound up having a weird, undead, grey tinge.

  “It’s not fair.” She gave a tiny smile and sighed. “The first people I ever meet who really care about me, and I have to give you guys up after a few weeks. I hate it. Are y’all gonna head home and laugh about the crazy Southern girl who was off her damn rocker?”

  “Nope.” I tugged at her hair. “I’m gonna go home and miss you like crazy.”

  We sat that way until Devon brought back coffee so hot it scorched the roofs of our mouths and so strong it propped our eyes open for the rest of the long morning of class, most of which I spent texting back and forth with Evan while Devon ricocheted disapproving looks between the two of us.

  When class was dismissed, we had almost no time before our bags had to be loaded onto the transport buses we climbed on and rode to the airport in a shocked, silent huddle. What would we do without each other? Evan got desperate at the last minute.

  “I want to give you something.” She started digging through her purse, but I put my hand on her wrist.

  “Stop.” She didn’t look up at me. “I don’t need anything to remind me of you. Stop worrying.”

  “We should have become blood sisters,” she said, choking around a second set of tears that bubbled up in her throat.

  I thought about Jake and Saxon’s identical scars from their ceremony so many years before. “We don’t need that, sweetie. You and are connected deeper than blood. And we’ll swear an oath over the perfect shoes or a really good bagel, which I’m taking you to my favorite bagel place to get. Because we’re going to see each other. Soon.”

  The bus pulled up at the airport, and the tour leader announced that Southern Air passengers had to hurry because their flight was boarding in ten minutes. Evan’s lips trembled. “This isn’t enough time,” she pleaded.

  “It’s notgoodbye. It’s not. Okay? I’m not saying it. I love you, though.” I would have been a bawling sack of sad if it wasn’t for Evan’s frantic look. I had to remain calm for her.

  Devon was standing by our seats. “Evan? I need a hug. And I’ll be okay if you want to kiss me.”

  Her laugh was too loud for the somber bus full of tired, anxious students, but that was exactly why we loved it. We collided in a flurry of missed kisses and too tight hugs and awkward attempts to avoid using the words ‘good-bye,’ and then she was gone.

  I’d held it all together until I looked out the window and saw her, long hair up in a high ponytail, dragging her bag behind her with one pale hand, her other hand over her eyes, her head bent down. She was crying.

  It was like I’d been on an emotional brown-out, and now the power surged on all at once. I collapsed into a sobbing, pissed-off mess, soaking the arm of Devon’s shirt while he patted my shoulder a little too hard and told me it would be okay.

  Devon managed to scoot me on the plane, helped me tuck my carryon in the overhead, and got my blanket out.

  “She’ll be alright,” he assured me with a confidence so certain, I was positive it was an act.

  “I know,” I warbled, trying to remember the sweet floral smell of Evan that was already wearing dim in my memory.

  “We should sleep. We’ll be home soon…”

  I think he said that. Or maybe not. The next thing I knew, he was shaking my shoulder because we had landed. We were home.