slapped the floor between him and Jules. “Hung out, or hooked up?”
“They’ve maybe kissed a little bit,” said Jules, downplaying the reality of her and Carter’s steamy night on the beach. “But more importantly, they’ve had these deep conversations. The kind where you feel like you really connect with each other.”
“How long has the guy been with his girlfriend?” asked Lauren, scooting over to sit nearer to Jules.
“A while.”
“A while, like—how long?”
“Forever,” said Jules.
“And does he love her?”
“It’s complicated.”
“She’s his girlfriend,” said Peter. “So, duh.” He stood up and adjusted his black stretch pants. “What music should we use today?” he said. He hunched over his iPod, studying his playlists as he headed to the corner where the sound system was set up.
Jules and Lauren shot him annoyed looks and then ignored him.
“My friend doesn’t think he loves the girlfriend anymore, but he won’t leave her. She’s
going through something
. That’s what he said. He’s afraid of what wouldhappen if he broke up with her, I think.”
“And is she? Going through something, I mean?” said Lauren.
“She’s a little . . . disturbed, maybe,” said Jules, unsure if she was downplaying this detail.
Glancing back from across the room where he was fiddling with the cords of the sound system, Peter called out, “Does she know about the hooking up?”
“Hanging out,” Jules corrected him. “Hard to tell. There’s no way the guy would have told her about it, but . . .” She resisted going into the whole thing with Lilah, but she couldn’t deny it was bothering her, so she went on. “She’s sort of volatile. She, like, confronted my friend in this really angry, freaked-out way.”
Peter gave her a pointed look. “In that case, I wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole.” He pushed a button, and the horn intro to “On Broadway” began piping through the speakers hung around the room.
Jules and Lauren stood up and got into position behind Peter. The three of them struck identical poses, one knee cocked, elbows sharply out, hands spread like fans in front of their faces.
“He’s right,” Lauren said, turning briefly to shoot Jules a sympathetic look. “Unless the guy comes to your friend and says he’s ready to leave the girlfriend for her . . . it sounds like the sort of thing that might explode on you. You don’t want that drama, do you?”
“You’re probably right,” said Jules with a sigh. They’d told her what she’d already suspected. “I’ll tell my friend. She’ll appreciate it.”
As she started dancing in sequence with them, Jules held on to the little hope she had left—that Carter would change his mind and decide he wanted to be with her. Until that moment, if it ever even came, she’d have to do everything she possibly could to resist seeing or even texting with him. She knew that the only chance she had of getting over him was to go cold turkey. It would be hard.
Dance, she told herself. Dance. Dance it out.
20
One warm spring evening, Carter and Lilah took a long drive. With the top down on the BMW, they rode southwest through the palm groves that clustered at the edge of town on the road toward Everglades Park. The wind whipped Lilah’s hair into a tornado above her head. She gave him directions on a need-to-know basis, keeping their destination secret.
“Do you remember this?” she teased him. She was wearing a ruffled, black short skirt and she took his shifting hand, placing it on her smooth, bare thigh. The cuts she’d made in her skin had healed some, and Carter hadn’t seen any new ones since their talk on the beach.
“Maybe,” he said. “I did this drive, like, fifty timesback when I was learning about ecosystems.”
“Yeah, but you only came out here once with me,” she said.
“I’m not sure that’s true, Lilah,” he said. “I feel like you came with me a bunch of
“They’ve maybe kissed a little bit,” said Jules, downplaying the reality of her and Carter’s steamy night on the beach. “But more importantly, they’ve had these deep conversations. The kind where you feel like you really connect with each other.”
“How long has the guy been with his girlfriend?” asked Lauren, scooting over to sit nearer to Jules.
“A while.”
“A while, like—how long?”
“Forever,” said Jules.
“And does he love her?”
“It’s complicated.”
“She’s his girlfriend,” said Peter. “So, duh.” He stood up and adjusted his black stretch pants. “What music should we use today?” he said. He hunched over his iPod, studying his playlists as he headed to the corner where the sound system was set up.
Jules and Lauren shot him annoyed looks and then ignored him.
“My friend doesn’t think he loves the girlfriend anymore, but he won’t leave her. She’s
going through something
. That’s what he said. He’s afraid of what wouldhappen if he broke up with her, I think.”
“And is she? Going through something, I mean?” said Lauren.
“She’s a little . . . disturbed, maybe,” said Jules, unsure if she was downplaying this detail.
Glancing back from across the room where he was fiddling with the cords of the sound system, Peter called out, “Does she know about the hooking up?”
“Hanging out,” Jules corrected him. “Hard to tell. There’s no way the guy would have told her about it, but . . .” She resisted going into the whole thing with Lilah, but she couldn’t deny it was bothering her, so she went on. “She’s sort of volatile. She, like, confronted my friend in this really angry, freaked-out way.”
Peter gave her a pointed look. “In that case, I wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole.” He pushed a button, and the horn intro to “On Broadway” began piping through the speakers hung around the room.
Jules and Lauren stood up and got into position behind Peter. The three of them struck identical poses, one knee cocked, elbows sharply out, hands spread like fans in front of their faces.
“He’s right,” Lauren said, turning briefly to shoot Jules a sympathetic look. “Unless the guy comes to your friend and says he’s ready to leave the girlfriend for her . . . it sounds like the sort of thing that might explode on you. You don’t want that drama, do you?”
“You’re probably right,” said Jules with a sigh. They’d told her what she’d already suspected. “I’ll tell my friend. She’ll appreciate it.”
As she started dancing in sequence with them, Jules held on to the little hope she had left—that Carter would change his mind and decide he wanted to be with her. Until that moment, if it ever even came, she’d have to do everything she possibly could to resist seeing or even texting with him. She knew that the only chance she had of getting over him was to go cold turkey. It would be hard.
Dance, she told herself. Dance. Dance it out.
20
One warm spring evening, Carter and Lilah took a long drive. With the top down on the BMW, they rode southwest through the palm groves that clustered at the edge of town on the road toward Everglades Park. The wind whipped Lilah’s hair into a tornado above her head. She gave him directions on a need-to-know basis, keeping their destination secret.
“Do you remember this?” she teased him. She was wearing a ruffled, black short skirt and she took his shifting hand, placing it on her smooth, bare thigh. The cuts she’d made in her skin had healed some, and Carter hadn’t seen any new ones since their talk on the beach.
“Maybe,” he said. “I did this drive, like, fifty timesback when I was learning about ecosystems.”
“Yeah, but you only came out here once with me,” she said.
“I’m not sure that’s true, Lilah,” he said. “I feel like you came with me a bunch of
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