I don’t, though.
“They’re a lot,” I say, which is completely true. “And, you know, my mom’s really been through it in the past few years, and she’s getting remarried, and that’s an adjustment and all. And even though I don’t live at home or anything, it’s going to be a little weird to have a stepdad and a stepsister.”
“Do you get along?”
She has no idea. “They’re great,” I say, which is an understatement. “It’s just weird, not to mention I don’t think my father is taking it very well.” He texted me a few times:Merry Christmas, which I also sent back, and thenHave you thought about your college options?
I didn’t respond to that last one, and I feel shitty about it, too. Not as shitty as I feel about other things, but shitty because it is, technically, a nice offer he’s making.
“Divorce is hard, even for adult children,” she says, nodding. “Even though it’s not quite as destabilizing as it might be if you were younger, it’s still a big change in the family unit. It’s okay if it takes time to settle into a new normal.”
I stare at her for a long moment. She’s right, obviously, but comeon.
“Did you justtherapizeme?”
“You needed it,” she says, primly, cupping both hands around her wine in a whiskey glass.
“I did not.”
“Ally’all need therapy, for starters.” She gestures with the glass in a way I assume meanseveryone currently under this roof. “Andsomeof you need a friendly professional to tell you that feelings are normal, you’re allowed to have them, and having them isn’t gonna send you running for the nearest pill bottle.”
“I donothave feelings.”
“This is exactly my point.”
There’s a part of me that wants to tell her off, not least because ever since I’ve known Wyatt, he’s been looking at Lainey with the world’s most obvious giant sad-puppy heart eyes, and she keeps leading him on and never reciprocating. It’s not like she owes him anything, obviously—I’m not anactualcaveman, even if I was raised by one—but at some point it would be nice if she stopped stomping on his heart all the time.
I’d probably dislike her on principle, except she’s also awesome. So I settle for just wishing Wyatt could move on.
Case in point, she then says: “It’s been three years, right? The nineteenth?”
“Wyatt told you?”
“It’s on the calendar in his kitchen,” she says. “Javi, next to a sparkly gold star. I figured that was you. Did you celebrate?”
“Not as much as I probably should have,” I admit and can’t quite make eye contact with her. It’s easy for people to sayYou should celebrate not fucking up for three years!and harder to accept that three years of the bare minimum is somethingto celebrate. “We went over to Gideon’s and ate the Christmas cookies that Reid made.”
I’d also meant to go to a meeting that week, but they’re not that frequent, and the closest one is kind of a long drive, and they’ve never really…felt like my thing. For a long time I went anyway, but after I met Silas and moved to Sprucevale, skipping them didn’t feel quite so bad.
“Were they good cookies?”
“Of course.”
“Three years is a lot, and anyone who says it isn’t doesn’t know what they’re talking about.” Suddenly Lainey’s all intense, staring me down, both hands holding the glass in front of her. I’m literally a foot taller than she is, and it’s still intimidating. It’s probably the same look she gives to all the Amazons on the derby track right before she whips past them. “Thatincludesyou.”
“I’m positive I just told you not to therapize me.”
“I’m positive you haven’t told me what’s really going on.” She finishes off her wine, puts the glass in the sink, and then comes over to put a hand on my shoulder. “Not that you have to. But consider that you’ve got friends who like you a lot. Like, I’m pretty sure Wyatt would help you hide a body.”
“I swear I haven’t killed anyone, Lainey.”
“Speaking of which,” she says and points at me like she’s just had an idea. “One of his redneck cousins has recently come into possession of a haunted-ass abandoned barn full of haunted-ass abandoned tractors, and I know you love that shit.”
She does, in fact, have my number.
“Thanks, Lainey,” I say, and she walks out of the kitchen.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
