“A human search engine? Geez, sorry that I sometimes turn to my brother to try to figure things out! Didn’t realize that was so offensive.”
“It’s not offensive!” Lincoln throws his head back, looks up at the ceiling, then back to me. “That’s not what I’m trying to say. I’m just telling you how I feel. But you’ve never been able to take that in. So why start now?”
I’m frozen to the floor, vibrating with anger. “Is it that you don’t like seeing me happy? Is that it?”
“I gotta go, CT.”
“No, seriously,” I say, “are you so used to me being down in the dumps that it’s, like, hard to see me actually experiencing joy now that I’m with Maggie?”
“Yeah, fine, you got me,” Lincoln says, his voice drained of all emotion. “Let’s talk another time. Okay?”
“Works for me.”
Lincoln shakes his head and sighs, and the call ends.
I stare for a moment at the screen where he used to be, trying to breathe through the itchy, raw feeling in my stomach.
“You should be glad he’s not coming home,” I say to the walls. “Because he’s being a huge dick.”
I pounce onto my brother’s bed and mess up the covers as much as I can.
May.
Maggie
“Coco!” I say, laughing as Carter kisses me. “I seriously need to go.”
“It’s all good,” he says, gesturing to his baseball cap and sunglasses. “I’m in disguise, remember?”
We’re in his car, parked on my street, and I’m late to band practice. At my own house.
“Yes, and it’s so effective even I can’t tell who you are,” I say. “But since my mom thinks I was just hanging out with Shana, who is now literally in my home without me—undoubtedly super pissed that I’m late—I must leave this car.”
“At least you have the apology Munchkins.” He points to the box in my lap that I just raced into Dunkin’ to acquire.
“And thank god for that. Now I go.”
“Okay. I’ll miss you.”
Carter kisses me again, one hand on my cheek. His lips are so soft.
I finally extract myself from Toro and run as nonchalantly as possible into my house, then down the basement steps.
“I know you’ve been late a lot recently,” Shana says in between string plucks while tuning her guitar. “Butyou live here.”
“I’m really sorry,” I say, walking into our practice area, which, until recently, was the part of the basement that’s meant for storage. We lazily repurposed the space by pushing stacks of bins andboxes to the sides, so it’s kind of like playing music in the middle of a hoarder’s fort. “But look: Munchkins!”
“Hooray!” Ember shouts as they shift their bass drum into place.
“I’ve literally been gluten-free since September,” Shana says.
“Ah shoot, you have!” I say, passing the box to Ember. “My bad, Shane. I don’t think Dunkin’ does gluten-free Munchkins.”
“I don’t care about the Munchkins!” Shana lifts her hands from the guitar like she wants to strangle me. “I’m just annoyed. That you’re lateagain.”
“I know,” I say, taking off my coat and sitting down at my keyboard. “I suck, okay? I said I was sorry.”
“But I’m more annoyed that you’ve been back together with Carter for weeks and haven’t bothered telling us.”
