By the time I arrive at the store, I already regret dropping so much money on coffee. There’s a couple hundred in my bank account—the result of a summer spent saving with Francie’s help—and once it’s gone…
I feel especially stupid since I’m already buying something else. Twenty-four hours on my own and I’m dipping into my account twice. There’s no choice, though. I think of Adair’s bare feet and the cold, tile floor. I head straight to the shoe section, find the cheapest, largest pair of flip flops, so they’ll be sure to fit, and buy them before I can pussy out.
At the hospital, Adair is tucked into a corner surrounded by even more people. It looks like she’s holding court. Felix the butler hovers nearby watching over them all like a shepherd tending a flock. There’s no way I’m walking up to an entire crowd to give their queen bee a two dollar pair of flip-flops. But even from here I can see her bare feet, and I already bought the damn things. It takes a second, but I manage to get Cyrus’s attention. He looks even worse than he had an hour ago. The hangover is clearly setting in.
He ambles over, bleary-eyed, and cranes to look out the glass doors. “Is something wrong? The car?”
The booze is wearing off and with it his laissez-faire attitude regarding his car. I can’t exactly blame him.
I shove the plastic bag in his hands, muttering, “Car’s fine. Give her these.”
“Give her what?” Adair asks, coming up behind him. She grabs the bag and peeks inside. She looks up at me, her face a mask of stone. I don’t know what she’s thinking. I want to crack her open. I want to study her pages, run my fingers down her spine, unravel her word by word. I think she could be my favorite book if I could only read her.
Her teeth sink into her lower lip like she doesn’t know what to say. She glances over her shoulder at her friends and back to me.
“You don’t have to thank me,” I say softly. Another day I’ll figure her out. For now, this is enough.
The puzzled indifference shifts not into the vulnerable, scared girl I expect but to an ice queen. Her green eyes glitter like cold emeralds as cold and beautiful as the icy look she now wears.
“You can go,” she dismisses me.
I give her a moment—a chance to be the girl in the car who told me to read Harry Potter, the girl who needed me to promise everything would be okay. She groans, rolling her eyes to Cyrus, who’s watching us without commentary.
“May I, Your Highness?” I bow to her, sweeping my arm at the waist and flashing her my middle finger.
“I don’t know why you think I want these.” She holds up the bag. “Or, for that matter, you.”
“Of course, you don’t,” I bite out, funneling my humiliation into rage. “You have a whole herd of sheep to admire and serve you.”
I was a means to an end. One she doesn’t need anymore. I’m a single-serving friend. She used me and now she’s throwing me away. It’s the story of my life.
Adair snorts, shrugging her delicate shoulders. She’s an illusion. There’s nothing weak or fragile about her. No warmth radiates from her. There’s no light in her smile now.
“Adair!” Someone calls her name. Neither of us turn to see who it is. We just glare at one another, an invisible, dividing line being drawn between us. Her name is called again and finally, she turns and my gaze follows. A doctor waits by Felix, stripping his gloves off, his eyes cast to the floor.
For a second, her act slips and fear flits across her face. That’s the girl whose smile felt like the sun shining on me. She’s two people, and I have no clue which one is the real Adair MacLaine. I get my answer when she squares her shoulders and marches toward the doctor without another word.
“Look, Sterling. She’s just—” Cyrus begins but I shake my head in disgust.
“Don’t apologize for her,” I warn him, mustering a weary smile. None of this is his fault. “I’ll get the car back to campus in one piece. See you later.”
He nods, looking relieved to be off the hook for her behavior. A startled cry rises across the room and Cyrus rushes away. It’s not my business what the doctor came to tell her. I resist the urge to even look. I’m not wanted here. Not anymore. She made that clear.
It’s a hard truth to learn. The sun never needed the earth.
7
Adair
Some days are diamonds. I can’t get that thought out of my head. I can hear her saying it. Sometimes in a bright, lift-me-up voice when I came home crying about whatever stupid thing had happened that day. Sometimes under her breath when she thought I couldn’t hear her. When I was younger I’d asked her what it meant.
“It’s from an old song, Dair-bear,” she told me. I could wrap myself up in the memory of her calling me that and feel safe for hours. “It means some days are wonderful.”
My lip jutted out as I crossed my arms defiantly over my flat chest, which was the current source of my sorrow. That day was clearly not a diamond. Not after what Cyrus Eaton had said in front of the whole class. We were discussing dimensions. The teacher told us the difference between two dimensions and three was that two dimensions were flat. Cyrus yelled out ‘like Adair’s chest.’ I wanted to die. “Today wasn’t a diamond! It was a black, dirty piece of coal. It was terrible and I hate school and Cyrus and everyone!”
“Some days are coal,” she admitted. “Some days are hard. But you know the difference between diamonds and coal? Pressure. Don’t let the day be coal. Turn it into a diamond.” The slight lines around her eyes softened as she gave me an understanding
