Free Okay by Danielle Pearl Page A

myself, again , that I am okay with this. That we are okay. That despite the pungent air of hopelessness, everything is somehow going to be okay.
    But if I touch her…
    Even the slightest brush of our fingertips, and all bets would be off. My resolve is never more than tenuous at best, and just one touch and I know all I would be able to think about is touching her more … wrapping my arms around her, kissing her.
    And then what would I do? Beg her to give us another shot? I pretty much begged her to give us the first shot, and I have no one to blame but myself for fucking it up. So yeah, no touching it is.
    Bits and I lead Rory and Carl out to the patio, I set the water on the table, and we all sit down to eat. I make Rory a cup of coffee the way she likes it—light and loaded with real sugar, none of that sweetener garbage—and hand her the mug without a word. She smiles the first real smile she's shown in weeks and the weight lifts marginally.
    I look at her too intently for too long a moment before I manage to pull my gaze away. But the point was made. Just friends or something more, I'll never stop looking out for her. And while I make every effort to fake this just friends bullshit, I won't let her forget that .
    Thea draws the girls into a conversation about school since all but Carl are attending college in Manhattan, and Carl will be less than an hour away at Hofstra University here on Long Island.
    Our moms chat about something or other down at the other end of the table, completely engrossed in their own conversation.
    "I met my roommate," Chelsea says excitedly. "Well not met , but you know, Facebooked."
    "You'll be at FIT, right?" Thea asks her. Chelsea's always been into fashion, so when she applied early to the Fashion Institute of Technology, no one was surprised. But right now, Rory looks as if she is. It hadn't occurred to me that Rory didn't know Chelsea would be in the city with us next year, and I blanche at my oversight.
    But if she's taken off guard, she recovers quickly, and I can't help my swell of pride at her strength. Because I know she thinks what happened in Miami has undone all her progress. But I know better. I've known it all along—that she's stronger than she ever thought, and she's getting stronger still.
    "That's right. We can choose our roommates or get one assigned. But I don't really like the only other girl I know going, so I met some people in some groups online, and this one girl seems really cool. So we requested each other." Chelsea explains.
    "What if you hate her?" Danny asks.
    "What if she hates you?" I hear Bits mutter under her breath, and I kick her under the table, grateful that no one else heard. I need this brunch to go smoothly. Fortunately my sister heeds my warning.
    "Do you have a roommate yet, Rory?" she asks, but Rory just shakes her head vaguely, less than eager to partake too much in the group conversation.
    "Too bad Thea and Cap are living together, or you could have roomed with her," Chelsea observes, and I give her an encouraging smile. We had a talk yesterday about how important it is to me that she make an effort with Rory. And though she seems to think she has done her part by apologizing in the first place, something that has never come easy to Chelsea, she agreed to do her best.
    Rory is obviously less than thrilled to be socializing with Chelsea. Or at least it's obvious to me. And I wait to see if she'll even respond, since the last time Chelsea spoke to her she didn't exactly take the bait. I hope that our talk had some effect on her, but if it didn't, I don't want to push her further. I made my case at Andrew's and now it's up to her what she wants to do.
    "Yeah, I guess," she replies quietly. It's a vague, barely-there response, but it's something, and my chest lightens a bit more.
    She is making an effort for me . I feel a whisper of that heady feeling she elicits whenever she grants me something, whether small or significant, that she wouldn't