Lying in bed, I wish the room would stop spinning. The constant rotation makes it tough to pay attention to the sound of the front door. I heard V leave with Scarlett. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, and I want to talk to her before crashing again.
V should be back by now. I become edgy, muscles locking. Maybe there were problems. Maybe V already returned and I didn’t hear. Maybe V left. Maybe V’s standing on the front steps because she can’t come in since no one gave her permission.
I take a deep breath, preparing to force myself to my feet, and the front door shuts. Footsteps down the hallway and I open my eyes to catch V entering my room. She plops at the end of my bed, pushing my feet out of the way so she can lean her back against the wall.
“How’d you get in?” I ask.
“Nazareth gave me permission to enter.”
“Why do you do that?”
“Why do you have maps on your walls?”
I’m silent because I’m not going to answer.
“I refuse to walk into a house without permission. You have a hundred maps on your wall. You have your weird and I have mine. Though I’ll give you that I have a lot more weird than you.”
Touché. “Scarlett okay?”
“She’s home, and the light in her bedroom never came on. I’m assuming that’s good.”
Only way to know for sure is when I see her again. “Thanks, V.”
“How’s the start of that hangover?”
“Fantastic.” My head is already starting to pound like a bass drum.
“It’s not like you can actually hold your alcohol.” She fingers one of her bouncy, blond curls. “What happened today? And please don’t say nothing. You don’t drink to get drunk and that was your goal tonight.”
I wish she’d back off. “I thought we were going to ignore my problems.”
“I only said that because other people’s grief makes me uncomfortable. Anyhow, maybe I’m evolving as a person and I’m trying to be more attuned to my feelings. That’s what adults do, right?”
“That’s the theory.”
“Does Scarlett know what’s going on with your land?” V asks.
“Yes.”
“Does she know what your maps mean?”
Because V is one of my best friends, I give her the truth. “Yes.”
“Does she know what caused the scar on your back?”
“Yes.”
“Does she know why you were upset tonight?”
“No.” And because I’m not the only one who had drama going on tonight, I throw the ball back in her court. “Does Leo know you have feelings for him?”
She stares at her hands in her lap. “I don’t have feelings for him.”
“I saw the look on your face when you placed your head on his shoulder.”
“I don’t have feelings for him.”
“V—”
“It doesn’t matter because he doesn’t see me.”
My forehead furrows. “He sees you all the time.”
“Me.” She slams her hands against the bed. “He sees V, not me—Veronica, and on bad days, he sees my illness, but he never sees me. I’m more than V, and I’m more than my illness. Leo only sees Leo, and he only sees what’s fun and what’s blocking his path to fun.”
I stare at her, not blinking, wondering if that’s how she feels about all of us. “I think you should give Leo more credit than that.”
“I’ve decided I don’t like you drunk. You talk too much. I’ve also decided that becoming attuned to feelings is overrated.”
I open my mouth to argue, but she cuts me off. “It doesn’t matter what you say because it’s not going to change my mind. I’m dying, Jesse, so none of it matters.”
I hate it when she talks that way. Hate it because she has more life in front of her than she thinks. I hate it more because she could be right. The thought causes sadness, and I have to rub my eyes to fight off the way they burn.
“Are you in love with her?” V asks in a quiet voice.
“I think I was born in love with her, but that doesn’t mean she wants me to do anything about it. Doesn’t mean that I should do anything either.”
V falls silent and the two of us stare at the other. It’s not uncomfortable. Just two old friends in the same spot we always are—no idea what tomorrow will bring.
“She’s lucky to have someone like you in love with her,” V says.
I close my eyes and settle into the pillow. “No, she’s not. Anything I love is cursed.”