Liv had hated the country-club life almost as much as I had. It was so stuffy and stifling in there. I would feel like my lungs were tightening every time I’d walked inside those pretentious gilded walls. Our mutual hatred for the place had created a close bond, and we had always sought each other out when we were forced to attend parties or formal events. Our parents hadn’t approved of our friendship. We had been expected to act a certain way, and neither Liv nor I had fit the mold of the perfect daughter. Being together had only exacerbated the situation in our parents’ eyes.
I’d finally taken a stand against my parents, but by the time I had, it had been too late, and it had ended up costing me everything. I could only imagine what Liv had gone through alone. As I stepped out of my car, I took my first good look at Liv’s house, and I knew she must have done the impossible. She’d done what I should have that night so long ago. She’d broken free.
Her house was small, too small for a trust-fund baby, which we both were—or at least, we used to be. Her trust fund was substantially larger than mine since she came from a family that had a name everyone knew. My family was well-off, more so than most, but my parents always strived to appear greater than they were. My father was a lawyer, a very successful one. I never understood why he’d felt the need to kiss ass with the rich elitists of the city. But maintaining their image had been everything to my parents—or rather my mother. My father loved me, but he had been my mother’s puppet. She’d always come first. When I’d finally walked away, I’d told my mother to screw herself, and I’d left my inheritance behind. I hadn’t heard from either of them since.
Liv lived in a part of town known for being eclectic. The neighborhood was full of artists and college students. Within walking distance, there was access to great restaurants, shops, and bars. The houses were small, historic, and full of Victorian charm. Most were divided into duplexes or townhouses to accommodate the amount of students attending the nearby university. But Liv’s home looked to be all hers with only one address painted in hot pink stenciling on a wooden sign hanging by the side of the mossy green front door.
I pressed the buzzer and waited. I admired the bright colors she’d chosen for her trim and porch, and I hated the fact that she could keep her plants alive. I had the exact opposite of a green thumb. What would that be? A black thumb? Well, whatever it was, I had it. If they could, plants would scream and run away from my presence, knowing I would be their ultimate demise. I also couldn’t cook worth a damn. I was the antithesis of Martha Stewart.
The door was suddenly thrown open, and I was engulfed in a sea of ebony hair as Liv dove forward and threw her arms around me.
“Mia!” Liv squealed, pulling back from her hug attack to give me her signature megawatt grin.
I always loved Liv’s smile. It could light up an entire room. Her smile was genuine and encompassed her entire face. Her brown eyes twinkled and warmed, her right cheek dimpled, and her entire personality shined through. God, I had missed her.
“Amelia Emerson! You haven’t changed a bit! You’re just as skinny and gorgeous as ever. But wait, hold on,” she said, stepping back to assess me for a moment. “Turn for me.”
I rolled my eyes and did as she’d said, making a complete turn on her front stoop. I hoped her neighbors couldn’t see this little spectacle. I would be staying here for a bit, and I didn’t want them to think I was Liv’s crazy relative coming to visit.
“Your boobs got bigger!” she practically announced to the entire block.
“Oh my God, they did not!” I said, folding my arms over my chest.
“They did so,” she fired back, pulling my arms away to expose the area in question.
Suddenly, I felt underdressed next to my long-lost friend. She was very put together—in a strange way. It was much different than the Liv I remembered. She had on a gorgeous maxi dress that hugged her curves and highlighted her own rack nicely. Her jewelry all looked handmade, nothing like the pricey designer pieces our parents use to buy. The bold silver necklace and matching earrings she wore accentuated her long neck and shiny black hair. Her appearance was very eclectic and artsy but in a hip and sophisticated manner.
I looked like a bum standing next to her. Since I had been traveling all day, I wasn’t wearing anything fancy. I had on a faded Old Navy tank top and a pair of jeans I’d probably owned since college. Besides the pendant around my neck that I never took off, I didn’t have any other jewelry on. To complete my fashion train wreck, I was wearing flip-flops that didn’t even match.
Yay, me.
“Well, whatever you say, but I still think they are bigger. Is that a thing? Are they supposed to get bigger in our twenties? Because mine sure haven’t. I heard they sometimes grow with pregnancy, but that shit definitely isn’t ever happening to me, so I’m stuck with my mediums. I’ve never had any complaints though. What do they say? A handful is all you need.”
I just stared for a moment, thrown off guard by what she’d said, but I laughed it off. Shaking my head, I said, “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Oh, but I have. Can’t you tell?” She tossed her hands up as if to acknowledge her surroundings as validation of her epic change.
“Yes, you need to tell me all about this,” I said, waving my pointer finger in a circle to incorporate her entire look.
“Oh, I plan to. Let’s get you inside and make some tea.”
Of course she drank tea.
As we made our way through her home, I took notice of the hand-carved wood artwork on the walls and the unusual paintings scattered everywhere. I couldn’t help but wonder how my privileged friend had gone from being a senator’s daughter to wearing moonstones and making tea.
I settled into a chair at her worn kitchen table and drew my knees up to my chin.
“Still folding yourself into a ball, Mia?”
It was the second time I’d heard her say my former name. I’d given that name up when I left my old life behind. When I’d walked away from Virginia, I’d stopped being Mia, and I’d started using my proper name, Amelia.
Mia was the name he had given me, and I couldn’t bear to hear it. I didn’t deserve it anymore.
“I go by Amelia now,” I simply said.
“Okay,” she said, sending me a strange look. “Still folding yourself into a ball, Amelia?”
“Yes, I guess some things never change.”