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“Gah, whatever. It was my mom,” she says, throwing her hands in the air.
Her mom? Does she actually expect me to believe it was her mom?
“Seriously?”
“Yes, why would I lie?”
“I don’t know why,” I tell her. “Every day there seems to be some river I need to cross to meet you, and it’s getting exhausting, Nola. This morning, things were fine, and then we get here and you’re on your phone through the entire event. Not to mention you were sitting next to my parents. Do you think they didn’t notice? I’m sorry, but it was incredibly rude.”
Nola crosses her arms and huffs. She turns, walking a couple of steps away. I give her space because I need it to. She comes back with tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I miss my mom and am very homesick.”
“I get that,” I tell her. I don’t know what she wants me to say here. It’s not like I keep her hostage or tell her she can’t go home.
“Our families are so different. Your sisters are . . .” she takes a deep breath. “Well, sometimes they’re a lot to take.”
I bite my tongue to keep my comments to myself. Elle, yes, but not Peyton.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you want me to say. They’re my sisters, and we’re close.”
“Well, I was close to my sister too.”
“Did you forget that you moved away from your family? You left and moved to Idaho to get away from your ex, and then came here for vacation and stayed. To me, you wanted a different life. In fact, you introduced yourself as Nola because you were trying to be someone new.” I run my hand through my hair, which will likely piss my mom off because she wants family photos.
“I feel like I need to remind you that I’ve never ever told you that you can’t go home to see your family. I’m not this possessive person you’re making me out to be right now.”
“Our lives are about your music.”
I nod and kick a pebble on the walkway. “Do you need another reminder? Because I’m pretty sure when we met, I was a musician. It’s never been a secret.”
“I thought life would be different.”
“Like what? A struggle? Me going to perform at coffee clubs at eleven because that’s the only spot open?”
Nola shrugs. “Well, yes. That’s what it was like when we met, and then your sister snapped her fingers and now you’re in a band.”
“Band or not, I’d be in the same spot I am now, and Elle would be my manager. It’s what she’s wanted to do for as long as I can remember.”
“Quinn?” a voice calls out behind us.
Fuck.
I turn and see my mom coming toward us.
“Hey, Mom.”
She smiles at me and Nola. My mom places her hand on my forearm. There isn’t a doubt in my mind my mom has heard us arguing and this is her way of showing me that she’s here for me. “It’s time to get started, and Elle doesn’t want you to miss anything.”
I nod. “We’ll be right in.”
As soon as my mom is out of earshot, Nola fires daggers at me. “I’m not done talking.”
Holy shit, she’s giving me whiplash. All these days she’s avoided conversation with me, and now, at my sister’s wedding, she wants to talk?
“So, we’re going to do what Elle wants, like we always do?”
Is she for real right now? I step forward, towering over her. “It’s her wedding reception. So, yes, we are,” I seethe. I start to walk toward the reception, not really caring if Nola’s following me or not.