and which is the accelerator and press both simultaneously. Talent’s BMW groans like it’s in pain and comes to an abrupt stop, but the tires spin until the smell of melted rubber scares me and I take both feet off the pedals.
Talent is half-laughing, half-shouting, “Lydia, steer the fucking car.”
We’re not moving very quickly, but we’re headed straight for a light pole.
“Which one is the gas again?” I ask, turning the steering wheel to swerve away from a collision.
“Baby, the one on the right.” He laughs, holding on to the roof handle.
The smell of burned rubber never goes away, but an hour later, I know the difference between the accelerator and the brake, I drive with my right foot only, and I don’t go near another light pole.
“Oh, my God,” I say, driving the BMW from one end of the parking lot to the other. “I’m driving a car. I know how to drive a fucking car.”
Talent rolls the windows down to trade the smell of heated rubber for the salty ocean breeze. Brisk summer night air cools my heated skin and fills my lungs, sweeping my hair off my shoulders. I’m filled to the top with gratitude and slow the car to a stop to wrap my arms around Talent’s neck, crushing my mouth against his.
“I want to hear it,” he says pleadingly.
Talent tells me he loves me when we’re together and when we’re not. He says it in weightless seconds before we fall asleep and in groggy eternity before we wake up. He calls me from the office in the middle of the day to remind me of his devotion, and he confesses his commitment on the card when he sends flowers.
Lydia, you are loved.
Lydia, you’re not alone anymore.
Lydia, no one loves anyone like I love you.
I’m not as liberal with my words, whispering that I love him while he’s inside of me, sometimes when I’m under his intense stare, and in the occasional quiet moments when I place my lips right beside his ear and say it softly and slowly. My fear is fate might hear me say it and take it away. I’m plagued by love for Talent—heartsick, lovesick, obsessed—but it’s not easy for me to piece the words together and give them sound. Afraid to be too defenseless in front of anyone, they stick to my tongue like thick honey.
“You know it’s true, Talent. You know I feel it just like you,” I say instead.
I’m emotionally defective, but he doesn’t take it personally. Talent’s patient as I navigate my way across the frozen body of water. If I don’t fall in, I’ll eventually meet him on the other side, frostbitten and cold. But I’ll be there.
“I’ve known for a while, Lydia. I’ve known since the bar with the band,” he says, speaking of the night we got drunk on each other and expensive bourbon.
“How did you know then?” I ask.
“Because you told me.”
“I did not tell you.” I straighten in my seat and return both hands to the wheel with a flirty grin on my face.
Talent relaxes with his elbow out the window, cool and calm and collected, and he says, “We’d come inside from the alleyway and you were sitting on my lap. I asked if you wanted to order another bottle and you swore you’d die if we did.”
I circle the car around to do one more lap. “I remember that.”
“And then you put your face really close to mine and asked, ‘Is this what falling in love feels like?’”
“I was drunk.”
“You were honest.”
Two nights later, Camilla sits at the end of my bed with her legs crossed, dressed in a baggy pair of sweats and an old shirt, while I get ready for one of the biggest nights of my life. My hair’s in rollers, my makeup is only half-applied, and I’ve tried on every dress I own, looking for the perfect outfit to wear to a private birthday celebration Talent’s asked me to accompany him to.
Slipping my feet from a pair of metallic open-toe stilettos to a black heel, I do a quick circle for Camilla and ask, “Which pair do you like better?”
She chews on her bottom lip and points to the metallic Tom Fords. “Wear those with the gold one-shoulder gown you tried on before the black cocktail dress. The one with the split side.”
“His dad is going to be there. You don’t think it shows too much skin?”
She shakes her head and smiles, releasing her lip from between