Page 43 of Get Over It, April Evans

“Sit up,” April said, and Daphne did. April twisted her hair into a knot, then clipped it on top of her head before pulling a plastic cap over the swirls of purple. “Thirty minutes.”

Daphne nodded, standing and moving away from the sink so April could clean up. “Thank you,” she said.

“No problem,” April said, but Daphne didn’t move, didn’t head into the living room, didn’t leave April with her whirling thoughts.

“I think you’re really brave,” Daphne finally said.

April glanced up, catching Daphne’s gaze in the mirror. “Brave.”

The word sounded like gobbledygook. If April was anything—moving back to her hometown after college, opening a business mostly on her parents’ financial support, which she was sure stemmed mostly from their desire to get her out of their hair—it wasn’t brave.

It was the opposite.

But Daphne nodded, and despite the cap on her head making her look like a purple mushroom, her expression was lovely and genuine.

A knot tangled in April’s throat as she stripped off her gloves, threw them in the trash. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

Daphne tilted her head. “What, you don’t trust me?”

“I don’t know yet,” April said, turning on the water and scrubbing dots of purple from her wrists. Because despite Daphne’s innocence regarding Elena’s betrayal, trust no longer came easily for April Evans.

“What are you going to do for the Devon?” Daphne asked.

April laughed, a quick, somewhat panicked burst from her mouth. “God, I have no idea. Are you going to use your new painting?”

“I think so,” Daphne said quietly. “I think you’re right. I should do more with it. More paintings. Icando more.”

“You should. It’s incredible.” She pressed her palms to the cool porcelain of the sink, eyeing Daphne in the mirror. “I guess we’re really doing this.”

Daphne tilted her head. “The Devon?”

April could only laugh mirthlessly. “The Devon.”

They both went quiet for a beat. April stared at the purple streaks in the sink.

“I really want it,” Daphne finally said.

“Me too,” April said, her voice almost a whisper. She didn’t say that she needed it. She didn’t say that shehadto show in the Devon, because what else did she have in her life if she didn’t? She didn’t say she was scared and exhilarated at the same time, that she’d felt more alive in the last few days than she had in months.

Years, even.

She didn’t say any of that, because she knew that Daphne felt the same.

“By the way,” April said, wiping down the sink and glancing at Daphne in the mirror. “You’re a July Leo.”

Daphne’s mouth dropped open, and April laughed.

“July twenty-ninth,” Daphne said. “How did you figure that out so fast?”

April shrugged. “I thought you were a water sign at first, like your moon, but then…I don’t know. What you’ve been through, leaving home.” She focused on getting all the purple out of the sink, her throat suddenly a little thick, thinking of Daphne Love running away from the only family she’d ever known.

Running away, buttowardherself.

“And all these wild things you want to do now,” April said. “As a late July baby, you’re also pretty close to the border between a Cancer and Leo sun. A watery Leo if ever I’ve seen one.”

Daphne smiled and shook her head, her cheeks reddening. “And my rising?”

“Oh, I’ll get it,” April said, meeting her eyes in the mirror again and winking. “Don’t you worry.”