April 4, Eight Days to Austin Film Festival
Cars rushed past Georgia and Edie as they kept their eyes focused on the street corner. The morning bus came hurling around the stop sign, and the short woman who had been standing next to them boarded but no one got off. The bus made a terrible screeching sound and pulled off slowly down the road.
“Damn it,” Georgia said looking down at her watch. “She’s not coming. That was the 7:52. The next one’s not until 8:35.”
“We can just wait a little longer. Dawn said she was coming,” Edie offered.
A week had passed, and Dawn hadn’t been to school. It was Friday, and she had promised over text to both of them that today she was coming back. Dawn finally started to respond to their texts on Thursday night but wouldn’t talk about what happened with her dad. Georgia and Edie called her after school Thursday, their bodies huddled over Georgia’s phone with Dawn on speaker phone. They talked about homework Dawn had missed but that was it.
“Fine, but let’s sit.”
Georgia shrugged her backpack off and threw it onto the sidewalk. They’d picked up two jumbo-sized sweet teas from a gas station on their way and now held them to their lips, sipping down the cool.
They talked about college and Georgia felt embarrassed. She had nothing to share. She hadn’t heard back from Kenyon yet.
Georgia silently realized Edie hadn’t even asked about the fact that they were missing the first part of school. She was usually such a stickler. A lot of things had lost their importance lately.
“What kind of writer do you want to be?” Edie asked, gazing off into the distance.
“What do you mean?” Georgia asked. She’d always shared her writing with Edie, so it felt strange, almost random, that she would ask.
“Like, what kind of person do you want to be?” Edie stared out at the road as she spoke. “Are you going to tour the country or live in New York and complain about how busy you are every day or be happy in a cabin in the country with your wife and dogs?”
“I don’t know.” Georgia felt dizzy just thinking about the future.
“But pretend you do.” Edie looked at her with wide eyes waiting for a response. They used to play games like this a lot when they first met. She, Edie, and Dawn would sit in a circle asking each other questions about what the others thought their future would be like. Georgia remembered Dawn telling her once that she was destined to win a National Book Award. It’s just the type of talent you are, she’d said with great certainty.
“I want to live in Chicago or maybe Portland. I want to go to museums every day and write about my life, my friends.”
“Sounds cold. Love that for you though.” Edie took a sip from her drink and turned to look at Georgia straight on, her expression turning serious. “I want that for you, you know. I want people to read your writing and see how amazing you are.”
“Thanks, E.” Georgia smiled and took another sip of her sweet tea.
After a while, Edie rested her head on Georgia’s lap as car after car passed. They talked about an assignment neither of them had started and listened to a podcast about movies, the earphones straining to reach so that they could both comfortably listen with one pod.
Another city bus finally bounded from the corner and stopped in front of them. A man with red hair and a work jacket tightly tucked under his arm got off the bus. Dawn was behind him.
She was wearing ratty jeans and a lime green t-shirt. The shirt was too small and announced in bold print Perkins Middle School Field Day. Her hair was tied messily into a ponytail tight and low behind her ears so that if she looked at you straight on it would seem as though she had almost no hair at all. She wore no makeup, not even her usual lip gloss and NYX blush she’d stolen from the CVS down the block from Alsbury sophomore year.
As she stomped off the bus, her eyes met Georgia and then Edie and she began to cry.
“I love y’all so much,” she gasped out through tears.
They opened their arms to her, and the girls hugged in front of the stop as the bus pulled away. The hug lasted too long and devolved into tears and messy mumblings into each other’s shoulders.
They walked to a diner a block away from Alsbury with their hands linked in the early April warmth.
They slid into a red booth towards the back. They ordered fries and pancakes and talked to Vincent the waiter about what they were doing out of school at this hour. He’d been there since they were freshmen and had crooked teeth like a picket fence blown over during a bad storm. His kindness had landed them dozens of free root beer floats over the years.
As he walked away, Georgia shared a look with Edie before they both turned to Dawn. She was quiet, her hand toying with the saltshaker on the end of the table.
“How has everything been with your dad?” Georgia waited as Dawn seemed to drift off in her mind, her eyes wandering from the diner ceiling and back to the table.
“He’s okay. Things are going to be okay.” Dawn placed her palms flat on the table and Edie reached up to rest her hand on top of Dawn’s.
Georgia thought it was better not to push her until she was ready to talk. Dawn would tell them how she was feeling when she was ready. Seeing Dawn so quiet, so stoically going through the situation with her dad, Georgia wanted to tell the girls everything about Simone. She was tired of holding on to the secret. These were her friends and she knew she could trust them with whatever the world threw at her.
“Is it okay if I tell y’all about something?” Dawn and Edie nodded, their hands still touching on top of the table.
Georgia began to recount what happened with Simone, frequent pauses for when Dawn gasped and said shut up, which really just meant to keep telling the story. The food was set down on the table as she finished up the details.
“Geo, that’s really weird.” Edie licked syrup off of her dull knife and set it down beside the plate of pancakes.
“I know, but technically nothing happened,” Georgia offered quietly.
“If something’s happening you should tell Frankie,” said Dawn over an already half-empty strawberry milkshake.
“Nothing’s happening!” Georgia erupted. She took a deep breath and drew back. “I just don’t know what to do. That’s why I’m even telling y’all about this. I need help.”
Without a pause, Dawn spoke. “You should kill him.” She sat up in the booth with a serious face. She dipped her fry into the ketchup pile with a measured movement. Georgia watched her as she stuffed the fry into her mouth without smiling.
“Dawn,” Georgia whined.
“Kidding, duh,” she expressed through a full mouth.
“Honestly Geo, you need to tell Frankie,” Edie said evenly. “He’s gross and she deserves the best, yes or no?”
“I know,” resigned Georgia. “I know.”
Dawn told the girls her dad was waiting at home and she needed to leave.
“Want to talk about the English homework from the few days you missed?” Edie asked, setting her fork down and looking up as Dawn stood up to leave.
“I’ll just text you. Bye, cuties.” She walked away and the small bell hanging over the door rang as she walked out.
Edie looked at Georgia as she started to shimmy out of the booth.
“Sorry, Geo, I gotta go too. I’m doing dinner with my family and I have to go pick up groceries.”
“Okay. Did you notice?” Georgia cut her eyes to the door where Dawn had just exited.
“What, that she didn’t mention the film? Yeah. Don’t worry, Collin sent in the final version after we sent in the parts we edited. Sorry I forgot to text you. He said they got back to him like right after he sent it saying the submission was still accepted even though it was late. Teamwork made the dream work.” Edie adjusted her bag on her shoulder.
“Oh good.” Georgia sighed, grateful that everything went according to their last minute plan. “I’m going to stay here a little longer.” She looked up from the table as Edie left a small pile of one-dollar bills.
“Okay, G. Seriously though, you have to tell her.” Edie swung her bag over her other shoulder and gave Georgia a quick hug before turning around.
“I know.”
Edie disappeared out of the door as Georgia buried her head in her arms on the table and took in the stink of grilling meat and tile floor cleaner. She pulled out her phone.
She typed up a long message in her Notes app. She explained Simone and her mother and the feel of his hand on her arm. She typed what Edie and Dawn said and then wrote her own feelings. How she wanted her mother to be happy, how Simone was the first man who’d made it to a second and even third date. When she felt she’d written the entire situation, she ended with a question. Should I tell my mother? She copy-pasted it into a message to Jill.
A few seconds passed and she got a reply from Jill. Three words glowed in her inbox. Yes, call me.