“Is it... unscented?” Oh god, Sara. Come on.
“Is my deodorant unscented? That’s what you’re asking me right now?” Hanna stared daggers into her.
“Yeah, I need it to be unscented antiperspirant. It’s a thing. You know fragrance makes me break out and I can’t have a rash on my wedding day, Hanna!”
Hanna relented. “Okay, sure,” she turned to Logan. “Gimme your keys.”
“Sorry,” he said. “I actually have to pick up my aunt and uncle from the airport. Their rental fell through.”
A coordinated effort.
“Great, you can grab Sara’s unscented deodorant?—“
“Antiperspirant,” Sara corrected.
Hanna clenched her teeth. “Unscented antiperspirant while you’re out.”
“Nope. I can’t.” Logan said.
Hanna hung her head forward. “Why not?”
Logan’s eyes shifted to Matty, who looked at Sara.
“Because,” Sara mumbled. “He’ll never get the right thing. He’s a stupid boy!”
“Yes!” Logan raised his glass to her. “I’m incompetent. You’ve said so yourself many times, Hanna.”
Hanna did her best not to let her irritation show.
“Logan, you make six figures a year doing math for a living, you can read a label,” she hissed.
“I can’t listen to this anymore,” Milo finally interjected. “I’ll take Hanna into town, because I’m sure I’m also too stupid to read a label on a product that definitely exists, and you all can stop the rest of your plotting because that’s not why we’re here this weekend. Deal?”
“Thank you, Milo,” Sara said, smiling and quickly adding, “And while you’re getting my unscented antiperspirant, can you also get me a toothbrush, because I actually did forget that?”
“Unreal,” Hanna whispered, eating her lunch in a silent protest, knowing that when it ended, she would have to actually face Milo.
She wanted to hold him, to let him break down the way she had so many times, but things were so blurry.
Milo nodded his head toward the house.
“Let’s just get this over with, Arizona.”
“Our friends are assholes,” Milo finally said about twenty minutes into their thirty-minute drive.
“They think they’re helping.”
“There’s nothing to help,” he sighed. “I told you earlier, we’re good.”
She crossed her arms, treading lightly. He kept one eye on the GPS and the other firmly on the road. He hadn’t looked at her since they’d left the DeBrunes’. She fell right back into his rental car all those months before, slurring her way through their first of many fights.
“They feel bad for how things went down,” she said.
“They shouldn’t, that was all on us.” Milo rounded the car into a little downtown street, pulling into the Safeway parking lot.
“Right.” She tried to be patient and remember that this was not the grounded, adult Milo she was running errands with.
This was fifteen-year-old Milo, sitting in a glass office while someone shattered his world, and she was staring.
