36
CAMILLE
The glare of the computer screen on my desk brings tears to my eyes. As if I have more inside me with how much I’ve cried since I ended things with Drew. But these tears are the light-induced variety, because I’ve spent the last day and a half attempting to find the needle in the haystack. Combing through my receipts, looking through my spreadsheets a line at a time, and trying to find the answer to fix Lucianna’s predicament has taken every bit of my effort.
My conclusion: there’s no place to park that can raise the profit margins on this spreadsheet. As much as I cannot stand where we’re currently parked, leaving the Great Highway might worsen the situation. Right now, customers know where we are. Summertime is around the corner, and Ocean Beach is a key destination. To get customers to trust us again, we can’t do anything drastic.
But dammit, it hurts. It hurts to know Drew will be so physically close, that he put me in this situation. That maybe he didn’t love me like I thought he did. Though he sounded so sincere. Every part of him was believable.
And there’s my first payment, due in a week. No matter how I skew and estimate the numbers on the screen, I come up with the absolute same answer . . .
I can’t even say it.
My head hurts. I know I’m exhausted. From running a business on my own. From being the only adult in this apartment. From not having anyone to turn to.
Oh, Nonna. I need you.
Turning away from the screen, I listen for Ally’s faint snores. Our bedrooms are right next to one another, with paper-thin walls and creaky floors. Anyone else would be bothered by this lack of privacy, but I’m not. The songs she sings to herself as she studies keeps me company and the swish of pastel against paper is my version of white noise.
My phone pings on the desktop. It’s Jaz: Don’t stay home tonight. Come out with me.
“If I hear that stupid chirping one more time,” Ally croaks from her bedroom.
“Oops. Sorry for waking you.” I turn down my phone volume.
“I know what you can do to make it up to me—go out already.”
“That’s funny, because somebody shouldn’t be in my business in the first place.” Shaking my head, I make sure to bleed an extra ounce of sarcasm into my voice.
“Ahem, I am your sister.”
“Exactly. And younger, mind you.”
Her sheets rustle. “Even better. I have the wisdom of youth, and I am obligated to say you should go out tonight.”
I snort, then stand and walk over to the doorjamb of Ally’s room. Her body is tucked under her quilt, curved into a bean shape. Her hair is loose and wild. The room is dark, except for the bright streetlights outside her window. The Mission is south of downtown by about four miles, but far enough away so the sky is a little brighter, clear enough to see the stars and the crescent moon. “You and Jaz really have to stop ganging up on me.”
“Can I say something?” Ally sits up in bed, an elbow supporting her. Her legs slink under the blanket so it flattens to make room. For me, I assume.
I don’t like this. This softness she is showing—it’s rare. It’s serious. Ally’s loving expressions have been contained in her art, so this openness is unnerving.
I perch myself at the edge of her mattress.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“What? Why are you sorry?”
“The truck. Drew.” She grips my elbow to shut me up before I can interrupt. “You’ve always taken care of me, and I . . . I wish you didn’t have to.”
“What the heck are you talking about? You’re my sister. We’re kind of stuck with one another.” I smile.
She looks down. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
“Stop already. You don’t even have to say that.”
She sighs and gives me this look that tells me she sees right through me. “I’m not ignorant, you know. Your spreadsheet is always up. And after yesterday . . .”
“These last couple of days have been a setback.” I visualize myself with a dazzling smile, to reassure my sister. “That’s all.”
“Show me then. Go out. Turn off the computer. I’ll be fine here.”
I narrow my eyes at her in jest. “Are you sure that you and Astrid aren’t planning another getaway?”
She waves my thought away. “That was a million years ago. Preacceptance Ally. I dunno. I think I can actually do it. That I can make a life from my art, and it’s because of you. A good night’s rest won’t hurt.”
“Wow.” I pull the covers up and look underneath it. “Have you seen my sister, Alissa Marino?” I pull her body forward and pretend to look behind her. “I swear, someone bring her back. Because it’s too weird to have such a sincere and nonsarcastic person living with me.”
“Whatever, I’m not that bad.” Ally laughs, pushing me away. “Cam, if you want to do what’s good for me, then go, take a breather. Because it is stressing me out, seeing you wrap yourself around your desk like a pasta shell. I promise I’ll be good.”
My phone beeps one more time.
Taking a deep breath, I nod. Going out might be the thing to clear my mind. A drink, a couple of laughs with Jaz, and hopefully a good night’s sleep. “Fine. I’ll go. But only because I don’t want to hear you talk in your sleep.”
I snicker when a pillow misses me as I walk out of the bedroom.