The Love Song of Ivy K. Harlowe by Hannah Moskowitz

Author:Hannah Moskowitz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Teen & Young Adult Romance eBooks;Teen & Young Adult Coming of Age Fiction;Teen & Young Adult Self Esteem & Reliance Fiction;Teen & Young Adult New Experiences Fiction;Teen & Young Adult Dating & Sex Fiction;YA romance;YA contemporary Romace;Young Adult Dating books;New Adult Romance;New Adult Fiction;NA romance;NA contemporary Romance;LGBT Fiction;contemporary ya fiction;Lesbian Fiction;Best Friends;Drug Abuse;Entangled Teen;Hannah Moskowitz;award-winning fiction
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2021-03-16T16:00:00+00:00

March

Ivy moves out the second week of March. She gets an apartment in Warwick, about ten miles out of Providence and a little closer to school, in this old industrial building that’s been turned residential. It has high ceilings and crossbeams and exposed brick. She’s in love.

She disappears for a few days to get the place ready, then has me over to see it one afternoon. She pours champagne and tucks Dot under her arm, and she looks happier than I’ve seen her in a long time.

She’s fucking radiant.

…

Meanwhile, my time’s being taken up by Elizabeth. She wants to see me all the time. She drops one or two hints about me moving into her apartment. And I’m starting to notice that our dates always look the same. We go where she wants to go. We do it on her schedule. We eat at her favorite restaurants. We hang out with her friends. We go back to her place.

“I think I have made a mistake of gigantic proportions,” I say.

Diana nudges her shot of tequila toward me. “Here. You need this.”

We’re at the bar at Kinetic on a Friday night. Elizabeth had a study group. Ivy ditched us as soon as we got here; Dot’s been sick, so Ivy hasn’t gotten laid in a few days and she’s here on business. We’ve been inside for ten minutes and she’s already wrapped around this blonde girl on the dance floor.

“I should have insisted she go to Boston,” I say. “I ruined her life.”

“She could still change her mind, right?” Diana says. “So it’s not too late.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “She might have already told them no. I don’t want to ask.” I take Diana’s shot. It’s my fourth. “And what if she goes to Boston and it turns out I miss her and that’s the mistake of gigantic proportions?”

Melody orders another round and then turns to us and says, “I don’t think this is really about Elizabeth at all.”

I groan. “I know.”

Diana says, “Andie, you really need to diversify your portfolio or whatever. Every problem cannot be about Ivy.”

“And yet here we are,” I say. “It’s not my fault she’s so…” I gesture to where she’s dancing, her boots stretching up her thighs, the sparkles on her dress catching the light like water.

“Hot?” Melody says.

“I was going to say aggravating.”

“Who’s aggravating?” It’s Dot, appearing as if from nowhere, like she always does. “Besides me, obviously.” She has a lot of makeup on, but she still clearly has a bad cold. Her eyes are red and teary and her sinuses look a little swollen.

“I thought you were home sick,” Melody says.

Dot shrugs. “Feeling better.” She scans the room. “Where’s Ivy?” She really must be sick if her Ivy-radar isn’t functioning properly.

We point her out, and it must catch Ivy’s eye because she notices Dot, says something to the girl she’s dancing with, and comes over to us. “What the fuck are you doing here?” she says to Dot.

“Dancing strengthens the immune system.

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