I smiled. That was my mother’s mantra about everything. “Yep.”
“Dad and I are going out, so you’re on your own for dinner.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “I’m going to get into yoga pants and then I’m going to eat a tub of ice cream.”
Mom laughed as she followed me up the stairs. “Glad to hear you’re making good choices.”
We crested the stairs just as Hayden opened her bedroom door. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I said.
Mom stood between us and frowned. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Hayden and I said in stereo.
Mom raised her hands. “Work it out,” she ordered, then closed herself into her bedroom.
I said nothing, walking into my room with Hayden following.
“I’m really sorry, sissy. Seriously.”
“I know,” I said, unzipping my skirt and sliding it off.
Hayden sat criss-cross on my bed and settled her chin in her palm. “I’m actually surprised Tillie said anything to him.”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” I said, dropping my clothes into my dry-cleaning pile.
She shrugged. “What are you going to do when he shows up?”
“Hide.”
Hayden wrinkled her nose. “I think you should talk to him.”
“Hayden—”
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
I could believe his lies, kneel at his feet, and beg for him to take me.
“I’m just sick of being hurt by him,” I said out loud, keeping my internal thoughts to myself.
“Then resolve it.”
“How?” I cried.
“I don’t know,” she said. “You were national debate champion three years running,you’rethe words expert.”
“Why are you pushing this?” I asked, pulling on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt.
“He looks like a lost puppy, is all.”
“If I talk to him, Hayden, then I never want to hear his name uttered by you again.” I pulled the bobby pins out of my hair and wrapped it into a scrunchy. “We will be done with Flash Wallace, forever.”
She crossed herself like a Catholic. “Amen.”
I rolled my eyes. “And no more telling Tillie Quinn my secrets.”
“She’s not a gossip, Tate.”
