“That guy’s a—”Fucking jackass, I wanted to say. But talking to Tati felt too much like talking to a parent, so I finished a lot less colorfully, “Troublemaker.”
She laughed without humor. “He should be confined to a cage with a dead bolt and no key.”
“Agreed.” I held out my hand, knuckles starting to turn purple. “He ran into my fist.”
This time, she laughed genuinely. “To think that your dad’s always going on about how wholesome you are.”
I gave a self-deprecating shrug. “Nobody’s perfect.”
“Chivalrous is better than perfect. That little shit needed to be put in his place.”
“That’s how I saw it too.” This thing with my dad has been terrible, but learning what happened to Piper, then witnessing a near sequel has been unbearable.
“Not gonna lie,” I said to Tati, “watching Piper leave with Gabi sucked.”
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “I’ve watched her leave a lot of times. Running from hurtful situations is how she copes. I’m not making excuses for her—she can be insufferable—but she’s a lot like those sea turtles she loves so much. Protective shell, soft and vulnerable underneath.”
We fell quiet. Tati moved to the other side of the room and lay down across two chairs, curled up with her arm crooked under her head, eyes falling closed. I was running on adrenaline and dealing with major sensory overload. The hospital lived and breathed, doctors and nurses hustling by, people filtering through the waiting room, beeps and alarms and intercom pages echoing through the corridor. It was busy, considering the hour.
Through the high windows, I watched the sky slowly lighten.
Tati startled awake when Dr. Bowen arrived with an update.
“Mr. Walker is doing well,” she announced. “Rehydrated. Breathing stably. Still resting. You’ll be able to see him soon.”
“Thank you,” Tati said.
While I was relieved, a new sort of dread eddied around me. What was I gonna say to my dad, this man who was supposed to shelter me but had scared the ever-loving shit out of me instead?
After the doctor walked out, Tati turned to me. “I’m going to head home. I need to check in with Piper. But I can come back if you need me. I’m a phone call away.”
She squeezed my shoulder, and then she was gone.
Piper
Tati spends the better part of the morning locked in her bedroom, and I loiter restlessly in the kitchen, worrying about Davis andHenry. I hear the echo of my sister’s earlier question:Why are you always so selfish?
I text Gabi:Am I selfish?
Her response is immediate.No. Don’t let Tati mess with your head.She sends a series of kissy-face emojis, followed by,Gotta run. Piano lesson. Talk later.
I pocket my phone, thinking about how good it is of her to jump straight to reassuring me. But is she full of best friend shit?
I take a mental step back and try to analyze myself objectively. I’m curious. Devoted. Naive, maybe. Spontaneous. I’m defensive, which I want to be better about. Tati has said I’m a dreamer, an idealist, a romantic, which is flattering. I’ve got a complex when it comes to being left behind, that’s for sure.
I wonder how Henry would describe me.
I’m not sure it matters anymore. After last night, I have noidea where we stand. That text from Whitney has been bouncing around in my head all morning, and I’ve yet to make sense of it. Now that my initial fury has lessened, rationality has elbowed its way in. It’s possible I misconstrued Whitney’s words. It’s possible she misconstrued Henry’s.
Or maybe Henry is phenomenally shady. Maybe he’s spent the summer stringing me along—using me. Whitneyandme.
I just can’t make that theory stick.
Iknowhim.
He and I…what we have is special.
Still, maybe it’d be best if he went back to Spokane in a couple weeks. His mom is there. Whitney and their tangled history are there. Maybe theyshouldget back together. Maybe they owe each other the time and effort. Maybe they’re meant to be, soul mates. I want to accept that as a possibility. I want to be gracious. I want to put Henry’s well-being ahead of my own.
