“Seriously?”
“No. Not seriously, Wren. Yes, of course I’ve been to New York City.”
She huffs. “I can’t see your expression. I have a hard enough time reading you when I can.”
“Mostly school trips,” I say. “But my mom took me and—and I’vegone a couple of times with family and friends too.”
“What did you think?”
“It was loud.”
“You only like quiet places?”
“I prefer quiet places.”
“You can find quiet in the city. I go up to the rooftop of the Met to sketch sometimes. If you time it right, it’s peaceful up there.”
“Is that the only place you sketch?”
“No. But it’s the only place I gotosketch.”
“How come?”
“You’re asking a lot of questions for someone who doesn’t like answering them.”
“I told you my birthday,” I remind her.
“Did I forget to thank you for that highly revealing bit of information? Don’t worry; I won’t tell anyone that you’re a Capricorn.”
I scoff. “What else do you want to know?”
She’s silent, thinking, and I internally panic. If she asks something about us, I don’t know what I’ll say. I already lied about not remembering her dress color. I’m more inclined toward honesty, lying on cool sand with her, and that’s unlikely to end well.
“How’d you get the scar on your chin?”
“Decided to walk on top of the monkey bars rather than swing across in third grade. Slipped and clipped my chin. Three stitches. Took out a couple of teeth too.”
“Ouch.”
“It wasn’t that bad. I don’t really remember it. I did plenty of reckless shit like that as a kid.”
“Only as a kid?” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Mostly as a kid.”
I wasn’t half the daredevil Skylar was. She was always striving toward the next challenge. Organizing a push-up contest. Practicing gymnastics. Swimming farther offshore than anyone else.
“I only have one scar,” Wren says, pulling me back to the present.
“How fasci?—”
“Here.” She lifts one leg and twists her foot, flashing me the underside.
And the rest of what I was planning to drawl gets stuck somewhere in my throat as I recall the night Wren cut her foot. Wondering why she’s bringing it up.
The first firework explodes overhead, and I’m saved from having to make any response by the colorful commotion.
Wren sits up to watch the display, but I don’t move. From this position, I can watch her and the sky.
