I let out a sigh and shake my head. “Sometimes I feel bad for getting all the smarts. It’s like that thing where one twin absorbs the other started to happen and I got all the brains between the two of us.”
Danielle laughs, and my own heart swells. “It is a little unfair. At least he has your looks, because those alone will get you far.”
My jaw drops and I bring my hand to my chest. “Are you hitting on me, Danielle Cross?”
“You wish, Dawson.” She playfully punches me and then slips her arm through mine. “Thank you, Logan.”
“For what?”
She looks up at me. “You know.”Chapter 13Danielle“I’ll have a mimosa,” I tell the waiter. “But can I get vodka instead of champagne, and then hold the orange juice?”
The waiter lowers his notepad and blinks. “You just want vodka?”
“Yes.” I close my drink menu. “Make it a double, please.”
“Interesting way to start the day but a good choice nonetheless,” he says with a chuckle. “And for you, sir?”
“I’ll have the same but with the orange juice,” Logan orders even though he hates vodka. He’s a beer and whiskey drinker. Occasionally, he’ll take a shot or two of tequila. But vodka…nope. He said he drank too much during college and it ruined it for him.
“You okay?” Logan asks when the waiter steps away. We’re sitting at the end of a large table, surrounded by my sister’s friends. Two have been her friend since high school, and she met the others during college.
“Physically, I’m fine. I even agree with you that this dress looks good on me. But mentally.” I widen my eyes and make a face. “That’s a whole different story.”
Logan gives me a small smile, knowing me all too well. I can’t distract him from the question at hand with my lame jokes. He sees right through it. I flick my eyes to my sister and her friends again, and it brings up a maelstrom of emotions too messy to even sort out in my head.
They are judgmental bitches who pick others apart in order to make themselves feel better, but that’s not the only thing bugging me. I don’t have a bunch of close girlfriends. I’ve never belonged to a group like that. I don’t talk to anyone I went to high school with anymore, and while I’m Facebook friends with a few girls I hung out with in college, we never see each other in real life. We don’t even message back and forth anymore, just occasionally like each other’s photos.
I’ve told myself it’s fine since I’ve always been a bit of a loner. I’m happy by myself, and even if I did have a big group of gal-pals that invited me out every other night, I’d probably turn the invites down.
So why does seeing my sister talk and laugh with her six best friends make my brain jump right to there’s something wrong with me for not having a group of friends I can pose for photos with, posting them all over social media with cheesy captions about “my tribe” and how I couldn’t get through life without them.
I’m sitting on solid ground, but it feels like the earth is crumbling out from under me. That weird sense of not knowing who I am creeps back up, and I feel the most unwelcome urge to try and fit in with these women, because I’ve been told over and over and over throughout my life that not being included is bad. I squeeze my eyes closed and try to quiet the sudden noise in my brain that’s louder than the crashing wave on the shore.
“Danielle?” Logan’s hand lands on mine. I open my eyes, and everything settles back into place. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, I just…” The waiter comes back with our drinks and then takes our breakfast order.
“You were saying?” Logan encourages.
I grab my drink and swirl the vodka around in the glass. And then I see someone else walking over. “Drink up,” I tell Logan in a warning and bring my glass to my lips. The vodka doesn’t go down as smooth as I anticipated, and I’m coughing and choking as my father and Peter’s dad come to the table. Peter’s father takes a seat and my own dad goes to Diana first, smiling down as he talks to her.
Then his eyes zero in on me. “Danielle,” he says as he comes over.
“Hey, Dad.” I stand up to give him a hug. I love my father, and I know he loves me. He really does want what’s best for me, but we could never agree on what that was. He mapped everything out without consulting me, and not following through with his plans caused him to be disappointed in me.
“And this must be the young man you’ve told us nothing about.” Dad looks at Logan, who stands and introduces himself. “You know,” Dad starts after shaking Logan’s hand, “Peter asked my permission before he proposed to Diana.”