“Well, I better go,” Peter says, looking between us. “It was good to see you, Nancy. I hope you take me up on that offer.”
“Not on your life, young man,” she says, but she’s smiling.
The door shuts behind Peter.
I carry my breakfast—lunch?—to the table and sit beside her. “Offer?”
“To take me out on his 4x4 sometime. He thinks it’ll make me feel alive.” She shakes her head. “I’m plenty alive. I don’t need to risk my life for that.”
“True.”
“Have you spoken to Bree today?”
A sliver of unease works through me. My brain immediately jumps to every worst-case scenario. She’s left Bodega Bay. She’s been found by the paps. Pictures of us together have surfaced and there’s no hiding anymore for either of us. Whatever it is, it’s big enough that Grandma left her house to come find me.
“No,” is all I say, my throat dry.
Grandma eyes me for a beat, her thin eyebrows lifting fractionally. She glances at my hands. “You should get your phone.”
“What’s going on?” I ask, rising to search for my phone. Where is it? Probably the music room.
“I tried calling first, you know.”
“Be right back.” I find my phone on the sofa beside a crumpled blanket, the home screen littered with messages—most of them from Grandma—and sprinkled with missed calls and voicemails.
One text from Justin says,Rethinking that collab request now? Don’t want you to be out of a job, man.
None of these ease the stress tightening my body. I can’t decide if I want the bad news directly from my grandma, or if it’ll be better coming from the internet. Grandma makes the decision for me. She comes into the music room and lowers herself onto the sofa.
“I expected better from her.” She shakes her head. “It’s low, honey. She went too far.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Her new single. You haven’t heard?”
Do I want to? I’m shocked the big deal situation Grandma is panicking over has nothing to do with leaked photos or someone finding out Bree’s hiding next door. It has nothing to do with me, either, which would totally make front page news.
When I shake my head, shetsks and pulls out her phone. Leaning away from it, she navigates to her music app, the letters extra large on her screen. “This one. The internet is calling it a heartless diss track. Meaning she?—”
“I know the term.” My body goes cold. I’m wishing I hadn’t pounded that Red Bull. It’s souring in my stomach.
Grandma lifts both hands in the air like she’s under arrest. “You kids have new meanings for old words every week.”
“The song came out today?” I ask.
“This morning. It’s everywhere. People are taking sides on the internet.”
“You need to stay off social media. It’s toxic.”
She ignores this, of course. Facebook is her playground. Without that connection to the world, she wouldn’t know half the things she knows.
She also wouldn’t send me half as many reels that areobviouslyAI. But they entertain her.
With a tap of her nail, a song plays. It’s catchy. The melody and vibe are something I’d expect from a Bree Belacourt song.Her voice cuts through the quiet room and wraps around my heart. Bottle that sound, and I could get drunk off it.
Notlovedrunk. Obviously. Just appreciation-drunk.
It’s totally different.