Page 21 of Everything About You

After nibbling on some leftover room service and watching a French reality dating show in Sophie’s glamorous hotel room for

a few hours, I head back to the apartment.

I kick off my shoes and take a long, hot shower.

I’d love to revel in what a fun night I had with my new friend Sophie, but my mind is stuck on Rhodes.

While I’m sitting in the couch on the dark, Celeste FaceTimes me, and I flick on a lamp and do my best to stay chipper, because

I know she’s going through something way harder than I am.

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi. How are things? How is Gran?” I ask, lying on the sofa and holding the phone above my face.

Celeste shakes her head on the other end; she’s wearing a light pink hoodie, her hair in a bun. Tears begin to spill down

her face. “She passed away this morning. I just found out about an hour ago, and everything has been really intense.”

I bolt up. “Oh my god, Celeste. I am so sorry.”

She frowns, wiping at her face. “I don’t know what to do. It feels like nothing is ever going to be the same. I just feel

terrible.”

“I can’t believe this,” I say. “I’m just so sorry.”

Considering this isn’t even my grandmother and I feel hollow and stunned, I can’t imagine what Celeste is feeling right now.

“It happened so quickly,” she says. “I mean, at Christmas everything was fine. I just don’t understand.”

I’m not sure what to say.

We sit there in silence for a bit as Celeste cries, and then she sniffs, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “My mom and Aunt Angela

want me to go back to Paris.”

I blink. “What?”

“Well, to visit you. They think it’ll be good for me. But I just got back, and I don’t know. It’s a long flight both ways,

and you’re going to be really busy. I don’t want to mess up the rest of your summer or anything, I’m sure now you’re in a

new routine and...” She sighs. “You’re going to be really busy,” she repeats.

“No way, I will make time for you. Are you kidding? Or if you want, I can come back to be with you. If that would help. I

really would.”

Celeste shakes her head. “You can’t. Gran made me promise her that we’d all keep living our lives, and that we’d make her

proud. She even specifically said to tell you that—I’ve been really worried about you over there all by yourself.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” I say. My chest was already tight this evening, but now it’s almost unbearable. I let

out a long, deep exhale. “I’m just so sorry, Celeste.”

“Thank you,” Celeste says. “We’re having a service on Sunday.

I don’t think they want to put it off or drag it out, you know?

Which I guess I understand. But my mom is really serious about sending me to Paris after that.

I wonder if it’s because she doesn’t want me to see her mourn, but she swears she just wants me to go off and enjoy my summer. Like Gran would have wanted.”

I nod. “I will do my best to be, like, the fun committee. Help you to take your mind off it a bit. I know this is so hard.”

“It’s crazy because I knew it was going to happen, but I kept getting my hopes up that it wouldn’t or something,” she says.

“Which was stupid, I know.”

“No, it wasn’t stupid. I think that sounds really normal.”

“Well then, I’ll keep you updated on when they ship me back to Paris,” Celeste says. “Sorry to put a damper on your night

like this.”

I wave her off. “You didn’t. Don’t worry about that. You need to take care of yourself.”

She peers into the phone. “You’re going to be the fun committee and you’re spending your night alone in the apartment? Milo.”

“I’m not!” I insist. “I just left from hanging out with Sophie—the girl from the New York office I mentioned.”

“Good! And how is Maison Dauphine?”

It doesn’t feel like the time to get into any of it.

“It’s good.”

“Oh no!” Celeste cries. “It’s that bad?”

“No, it’s good!”

“I know you, Milo. What’s going on? Your Instagram stories seem like everything is going great.”

I throw my head back. “Celeste, this is so not important right now.”

“Distract me just a little,” she presses. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“We don’t have to talk about any of this now.”

“I want to hear. You said you’d help me get my mind off things. You’re living this grand Paris adventure and I know we talk, but I want to know every detail.”

“I just don’t want to bother you with all of this. I mean, we’re talking about, like, fashion events. When you compare what

you’re dealing with...”

Celeste tilts her head. “Just tell me about the apprenticeship. Please.”

So I tell her some of the details. About the Versailles gardens pop-up, the Tuileries event today, and a bit more about Sophie.

She seems eager to hear it all, even though I think she must be in physical pain. I don’t want to burden her with any of the

details, but she keeps asking.

“I can’t believe you cheated,” she says. And then she’s laughing. Actually belly laughing on the other end of the FaceTime

call. I force laughter along with her, but I feel pretty empty inside, recounting all of this while I’m still shocked about

Gran. “Wow, Milo. This guy has really gotten you worked up.”

I only nod. “But we’re just going to play fair from now on.”

“Do you think he likes you?”

I stare at her. “What?”

“Well, he bought you macarons. And he’s not getting you in trouble when you tried to majorly screw him over. I mean, he did

ask you out when you first met. Maybe he has a real crush on you.”

“Who’s to say everything he’s doing isn’t part of some longer game? If he’s Machiavellian, I’m falling for it all.”

Celeste shrugs. “I want to meet him. When I’m back over there.”

I chuckle. “All right. I’m sure that can happen.”

We sit in silence again.

“Celeste, I love you. I know this is impossible right now, but you are going to be okay. I’m always here for you if you need

anything.”

She smiles. “I know that. And likewise. I know you think you can’t talk to me about this stuff, but I’d rather you do. You’re

literally by yourself in another country.”

“Sounds like that’ll change soon.”

“Yeah, maybe it really will be good for me. Right now, I don’t even fully know how I’m feeling. I kind of just don’t want

to think about it, which sounds silly, but it’s like it isn’t fully real yet.”

“I don’t think it sounds silly.”

“Thank you.” Then: “And Milo? Can you promise me one thing?”

I nod. “Sure, whatever you want.”

“Promise me you’re not going to give up. You inspire me every single day, and I believe in you. So, play fair, but kick some

ass. You’re there for a reason.”

“Thanks, Celeste.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

We say we love each other, and when we hang up, I set my phone on my chest and cry.

I cry because I’ll miss Gran, and I cry because Celeste and her family are going through this terrible thing.

I cry because there isn’t really anything I can do to help.

And then I cry because I’m just feeling everything all at once—loneliness, disappointment, embarrassment.

And then there is an odd sense of shame for crying at all, because I shouldn’t make any of this about me.

I consider calling my mom, but I know she’ll be busy, so I get all the tears out until I fall asleep on the sofa, and for

the first time, I don’t wake up until my alarm goes off.