Girls in White Dresses - JENNIFER CLOSE [98]
“You know what?” Harrison said. “Just for that, I’m keeping it.” He folded it and put it on top of a pile on the couch. Isabella lay on her back and wiped her eyes.
“No,” she said. “Don’t punish yourself just to get back at me.”
“Punish myself?” he asked. “I’m only going to wear it when we’re together. And then I’m going to hold your hand, so everyone knows we are a couple.”
“That should help us make a lot of new friends in Boston.”
“That’s my plan,” Harrison said.
“I’m worried that Winston isn’t going to adjust well to the move,” Isabella said. When she said his name, the dog tilted his head and looked at her.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Harrison said. “You worry too much about that dog.”
“He has his friends at the dog park here, and he’s comfortable here. He might hate Boston.”
“Do you think you’re projecting just a little bit?” Harrison asked.
“No,” Isabella said. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Why do you still have this?” Mary asked. She held an unopened bottle of tequila that Isabella had gotten in Mexico during spring break of their junior year.
“I just never threw it out,” Isabella said. “I kept moving it from place to place, but it seems ridiculous to bring it to Boston.”
“Your apartment is really depressing with all of the stuff gone,” Lauren said, looking around. “I can’t believe you guys are sleeping on air mattresses tonight.”
“Me neither,” Isabella said. They all sat in a circle on the floor of the empty apartment, with the bottle of tequila in the middle of them.
Mary looked closely at the bottle. “Do you think the worm is fake? Wouldn’t it have decomposed by now?”
“Alcohol keeps things fresh,” Lauren said.
“Is that why you’re still so young-looking?” Isabella asked her. Lauren swatted her butt and Isabella shrieked and scooted forward. “Come on, you guys,” she said. “I think we should drink it. I’m not packing it. It will be fun.”
“I’m pretty sure if we drink that, we’ll die,” Mary said.
“Oh my God. Is that your plan? Do you want to kill us all so that you don’t have to move to Boston?” Lauren asked.
“You clever little bitch,” Mary said. “It will look like a mass suicide.”
“You two are complete freaks,” Isabella said. “You know that?”
“Look who’s talking,” Lauren said.
“Here,” said Isabella. “I saved some random shot glasses just for the tequila. Come on, you guys, I’m moving tomorrow. Let’s just drink a little of it. Here, I’ll put the phone right here so that we can call 911 if it’s poison.”
“Fine, fine,” Lauren said. “Let’s do this.”
They took the first shot, and Mary held the empty glass and sniffed it. “Can you imagine,” she said, “if my children had to go motherless because I died of bad tequila?”
“I think what would be more disturbing is if Ava found out that you named her Gertrude for three days before changing it,” Lauren said.
“She didn’t look like an Ava until we got her home,” Mary said. “I told you that.”
“Right,” Isabella said. “Little Gertie will totally understand that.”
“Let’s do another shot to little Gertie,” Lauren said. She poured more of the tequila into the glasses.
“Fine,” Mary said. “But stop calling her Gertie. It really freaks me out that I named her that.”
Lauren picked up the bottle and swirled it around so that the worm swam in the tequila. “You know,” she said, “this was really my bottle of tequila.”
“I know,” Isabella said. “I remember.”
Their third night in Mexico, the three of them had fallen asleep on the beach and woke up with uneven streaks of sunburn and sand in their mouths. For two days, Mary lay on the hotel bed, moaning and covered in aloe. Isabella stayed with her, burned and nauseous, refusing to go out until her streaks had faded just a little bit. Lauren’s burn turned quickly to a tan, and she resumed her spring break the next night, winning a bikini contest at the hotel bar. She came into the room that night wearing several strands