“Oh.” It’s like she just pointed out I’m wearing nothing but underwear. “Well. How did you know?”
“Uh,” Shana says, “because we have eyes? And brains? And because it made very little sense to me why you would break up with Chord until I put the Carter thing together.”
“That’s not the only reason I broke up with Chord!”
“So, you’re, like, doing this again?” Shana gives her guitar a big, boisterous strum that bounces off the basement walls. “And you’re okay with that?”
“I am. I think.” I know I should have told Shana and Ember sooner. But I was worried—correctly, it turns out—that Shana would disapprove and try to convince me to stop. “I mean, being with Carter feels... right. So, yeah. But I wasn’t... When it started again, it was because I had just ended up at his house, and—”
“You went to hishouse?” Shana says. “What did you think was going to happen at hishouse?”
Ember laughs as they step on the bass drum’s pedal and make adjustments.
“I know, I know.” I play a quick G major scale on my keyboard, as if that might somehow reboot our entire conversation. “But I actually went over there to tell him the truth about... You know.” I point upstairs.
“The truth about your mom? What is the truth about your mom?”
“No! My sister,” I whisper.
“You told him about that?”
“Well, no, I didn’t, because we ended up making out instead.”
“I see the logic,” Shana says. “If I had to choose between making out with the tragic boy I’m in love with or telling him a long-kept secret he might not like at all, it would be a very easy decision.”
“I know I need to tell him. I will.”
“Wait, what is this about your sister?” Ember asks, lightly tapping a cymbal with their drumstick.
“Carter used to, like, date her,” I say. “A long time ago.”
“Right before he developed his disorder,” Shana helpfully adds.
“No way!” Ember says. “That’s insane!”
I don’t go out of my way to tell people about Carter and Vivian. Took me a long time before I even told Shana.
“And Carter doesn’t know that?”
“Not yet.”
“Whoa.” Ember shakes their head, as if they can’t believe their bandmate is such a psychopath. “That’s... Did you tell him in the fall? The last time you were dating? And he’s just forgotten?”
“No,” I say. “But what does it even matter?” This band practice is feeling more like an intervention. I don’t like it.
Ember answers with a shrug and a bite of a glazed Munchkin.
“Marigold says Chord is still gutted, by the way,” Shana says.
“‘Gutted’?” I say. “Seriously? We dated for like a month. People are overusing that word.”
“I’m just telling you what she said.”
I let my lips puff out as I exhale, trying not to let myself feel as horrible as I know I should. I pop a powdered Munchkin into my mouth.
“She also said he still can’t believe you broke up over text.”
“All right,” I say, trying not to wince, crumbs bouncing out of my mouth. “Chord looks like an adult and acts like an adult, so why can’t he deal with this like an adult? Life sucks sometimes. Get over it, dude. Stop passing messages through your friend to make me feel guilty.”
