Gravity | ONC 2023

Chapter 2

Alice

Danielle looks amazing. I mean, she always looks amazing. She looks amazing in everything. Her favorite high school sweatpants that are falling apart. The fancy green pajama set she got for Christmas. She even looked good in her uniform when she worked at Wendy's in high school. (I've seen pictures.) But tonight, especially, she looks amazing. She's going to a work event - some sort of shareholder cocktail party - and her jumpsuit is absolute perfection. It's gold and shiny and looks so beautiful against her brown skin.

"Damn, babe. Look at you," I say.

"Is it too much?" She fiddles with one of her many rings.

"Of course not," I say, hopping up from the couch. "You look stunning. Just a little crooked." I reach up to adjust one of the long gold bobby pins adorning her hair. "There."

She slouches a little. "I wish you could come with me."

"A corporate cocktail party is not my scene, Dani." I return to my spot on the couch. "Besides, I took this week off to spend time with my mom. You know that."

"I know." She joins me on the couch. "How is she doing?"

Mom was diagnosed with breast cancer last year. They caught it early, and treatments were going well. But last month, she took a turn for the worse. She's still on chemo, but it doesn't seem to be doing much. My brother's been keeping an eye on her, especially in the evenings when I'm at work. But Peter - who works for the same company as Danielle - is leaving for a weeklong conference in California on Sunday. So, I took some time off work to help out. I spent most of the day with her, binging TV shows.

"She's ok. Chemo is killer, and her progress is still plateauing." I tug at my sweatshirt collar. "They're going to check in again at the end of the month and then...well, discuss further steps. If there are any."

There's a strange sort of calm in my mind about this. Probably because it doesn't feel real that at the end of the month Dr. Brooks could tell us there's no treatment options left and to start preparing for the worst. I don't let myself think about it. It's not real, so I don't have to worry about it yet.

Danielle smiles. "She's such a trooper. I love her."

"She loves you, too. Misses you. Asks about you all the time."

"Well, why don't I go with you tomorrow to visit? It's been ages."

"Don't you have a bunch to do before you leave on Sunday?"

She shrugs. "It won't take me all day to do laundry and pack." I level a look at her. "Shut up. I'll be fine. I want to see your mom."

"Ok. Sounds good."

Her phone chimes from her bedroom, and she jumps up to retrieve it. She's grinning when she comes back, tapping away.

"Who ya textin'?" I singsong, even though I already know the answer.

"Micah," she says without looking up. Her boyfriend.

"Naturally," I say. Thankfully, she's too engrossed in what is most likely an extremely flirty exchange to notice how derisive that sounded.

I like Micah. A lot. They're adorable together. They clicked almost immediately when they met three months ago, and they've been nearly inseparable. I'm not sure how Micah feels about me. He mostly ignores me whenever I'm around the two of them together - which isn't often. I don't blame him.

Danielle and I dated for almost a year and a half before she told me that she thought we didn't really have a future together. It took me by complete surprise. In my mind, she was my future. But since I was - and am - so in love with her that I can't imagine denying her anything, even when it comes at the expense of my happiness, we split. But we decided to stay roommates. She moved into the second bedroom that we'd been renting out on Airbnb, and she started seeing other people. It doesn't seem to be nearly as painful for her as it has been for me.

Maybe Micah can sense that I still have feelings for her. Maybe he thinks it's weird we still live together. Maybe he just doesn't like me. I've never asked. And I don't intend to. I'll just keep cheering them on and loving her from afar. And maybe - someday - I'll move on. Maybe once she finally moves out. I'm pathetic.

I grab my phone to distract myself from her starstruck look and open Instagram. One of my co-stars is doing an Instagram story takeover, and I've been watching it all day. The show's already started for the night, and Evan, the guy doing the takeover, is showing part of the show from the wings before he has to hurry back to his dressing room to get ready for his entrance.

It's my first week off since I got cast in the Wicked ensemble, and I was there literally last night. But it's weird to be away from the theater. Weird to not be one of the faces he zooms past in the hallway.

Danielle finally puts her phone down. "I sent him a picture of my outfit. He says I look hot."

"You do look hot," I say. I add "you always look hot" in my mind before telling myself I'm pathetic again.

"Thank you," she says, blushing slightly. "Well, I have to get going. I'll be back late, so don't wait up for me." She disappears back in her room.

"Don't worry. I won't." I pull a throw blanket over my lap. "I'm going to watch some trashy reality TV, eat some cold pizza, and go to bed early. I never get to do that."

Danielle has put the finishing touches on her outfit - a black blazer, black clutch, and black stilettos that make her almost as tall as me. "Only you would be excited about going to bed early."

"Yes, well, it's all my weird quirks that keep you around," I remind her. "And don't get too drunk. You don't want to be hungover when we go to my mom's tomorrow."

"It's a shareholder cocktail party. I'm not going to get hammered." I stare at her again. "Seriously. Stop that." Her phone chimes again. "My Uber's here. Kaleb awaits. Who spells Kaleb with a K?"

"Strange people," I say, flipping the TV on.

"Word."

"No one says 'word' anymore," I call as she pulls the door open. She turns to stick her tongue out at me. "Love you, too."