Page 53 of Get Over It, April Evans
“I’m shocked you were allowed to watch Disney.”
“Oh, I wasn’t,” Daphne said, laughing. “I saw all the movies I missed as a kid in college with Vivian. Elena has some strong Cruella vibes. Or Maleficent. Similar cheekbones.”
“Bite your tongue. I adore Maleficent,” April said.
“You adore the sorceress who wanted to kill a baby princess?”
April groaned. “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds awful.”
“How is Maleficentnotawful?”
April popped back up on her elbow. “All the Disney villainesses are fed to us from the quintessential male gaze. Twist it just a little, and they’re women who have been forgotten, mocked, and berated. They’re badasses who go after what they want.”
“Okay,” Daphne said slowly. “They go after what they want. Admirable for sure.” She nodded vigorously, then stopped and pointed a finger in the air. “By…killing baby princesses?”
April shrugged. “Two sides to every story. After all, the spindle that Aurora—the most boring heroine, by the way—was enchanted to be pricked by only sent her to sleep. Didn’t kill her.”
“Oh, great merciful Maleficent,” Daphne said, then frowned.“Plus, I thought that was the fairies who altered the spell so she wouldn’t die.”
“So we’ve been told,” April said. “I think we need to watch the Angelina Jolie movie posthaste.”
Daphne smiled, something bubbly and light filling her chest. “Deal.”
April smiled back but then grew serious again. “So what happened with Vivian?”
“Oh, she was totally obsessed with Ursula, now that I think about it.”
April smiled softly but said nothing.
“I disappeared on Vivian,” Daphne said, sighing. “After—”
“Beelzebub.”
Daphne huffed a small laugh. “After Beelzebub. I let her take over everything and I lost Vivian in the process. Lost myself. Lost everything that was Daphne Love.”
The words sounded dramatic, but they felt true. Theyweretrue. April’s eyes searched hers, and Daphne couldn’t look away. She felt locked on to April’s face, entranced as though under a spell.
“Better find her, then,” April said softly, and Daphne nodded, still locked, still enchanted.
A swath of orange suddenly blocked Daphne’s vision. She gasped, which resulted in Bob the Drag Cat’s fur in her mouth and eyes and nose.
“Bob, ugh, oh my god,” she said, turning her head away and sputtering.
April laughed, then sat up, plucking Bob from next to Daphne and kissing the top of his head before setting him on her other side. Whatever spell had been tangling between them was broken, the atmosphere immediately thinner, lighter. Bianca let out a mew from near the open front door, her tail perked in curiosity.
“Bianca, don’t you dare,” April said, nearly leaping on top of the cat to keep her from going outside. She stood, the ball of white-and-gray fur in her arms—hissing, no less—and kicked the door closed before setting down the recalcitrant beast.
Daphne still lay on the floor, plucking fur from her lips.
April peered down at her, an amused expression on her face.
“Not so thrilled with being the favorite now, are we?” she said, hands on her hips.
“Oh, shut up,” Daphne said, but she laughed.
April held out a hand. “Let’s get that ankle iced, yeah?”
Daphne nodded, then slid her fingers into April’s cool palm and stood up before hobbling over to the sofa.
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