“You’re not bothering me.”
“You know what I mean,” she says, laughing in that embarrassed, dismissive way she has sometimes, and I almost let it go, almost sayNo, but I should get back to grocery shopping. Someone’s gotta be honest, though; someone has to take that first step while staring deeply into the eyes of the cartoon cow on the 2% milk.
“I like talking to you,” I say. “It’s not a hardship, Madeline.”
“Oh,” she says after a moment, and I can practically hear her swallow back an apology. “Okay, well—what are you making for dinner?”
“Is Bastien getting a plus-one?”Madeline’s asking about a week later. I’m sprawled on one of my couches. This one is from Wyatt’s grandma’s basement—she was getting rid of it, and I was happy to take it off her hands. A year and some YouTube-led DIY later, it could be worse.
“I thought nobody was getting a plus-one that wasn’t a significant other,” I say. Zorro’s on the other couch, and I make wiggly fingers in his direction. He pretends not to see them.
“That’s what I thought, but this list saysBastien Lopez, plus one. Is he seeing someone?”
“If he is, he didn’t tell me.” I put my phone on speaker and text my brotherHey, are you bringing someone to the wedding?
Then I chew on my lip for a moment and wonder if this is a good time to tell Madeline that I cracked. We’re all going to see each other in a few weeks for a get-together that is Absolutely Not a Bridal Shower, so it’s probably only fair to Madeline.
“They know, by the way,” I confess.
There’s a pause on the other end of the line.
“You have to be way more specific,” she says, and, okay, I can see her point.
“Bastien and Thalia know we…hooked up,” I say, choosing to stick with the facts.
“You told them?”
“I would say the information was taken under duress. They locked me in a bathroom because they said I was being ‘all weird and stuff.’”
“There’s no way that’s normal,” says Madeline, an only child. “Theylockedyou? In abathroom?”
“You’re making it sound way worse than it was,” I say. Bastien texts me backYeah, your mom, which is the single dumbest thing I’ve ever read. “They weren’t even holding me down or anything. I definitely could’ve called for help. Bastien’s not bringing a date, by the way.”
“Uh-huh,” she says, after a moment. “Did they say anything? In the bathroom?”
“They made a lot of stepsibling jokes. So, it went as well as can be hoped for.”
Earlier today, Thalia, Bastien, and I had a text exchange that began with me politely asking them to act normal the next time we see each other in front of our family. It ended with both ofthem suggesting they could now blackmail me whenever they want. I’m ninety-nine percent sure they won’t.
“But they’re not grossed out or anything,” she says, and I snort.
“Thalia fucked her calculus professor when she was a senior in college,” I point out. Madelinegasps. “Wait, did you not know?”
“Her professor?Thalia did?! Is she—what happened? Was it bad? Is she okay?”
“She swears it was her idea,” I say. “I wasn’t…around much, when it happened, but now they live together and they’re talking about getting a dog, so it worked out. And honestly, he seems great.”
“Wait,” she says. I swear I can hear her sit up straighter. “No.Wait.She said they met in college! Caleb was her calculus professor? He was aprofessor?”
“I can’t believe no one told you that my goody-two-shoes little sister had a sordid affair with her own professor. While she was taking his class and everything,” I say. Zorro finally jumps up onto my chest, and I make anoofsound, then scritch him behind the ears while I contemplate saying this next part. He starts purring like a chainsaw.
“Hi, Zorro,” Madeline calls, and he chirps a little. “Zorro, didyouknow all this?”
“Zorro wasn’t born yet,” I say. “The whole thing with Thalia happened after my dad kicked me out, so I didn’t know anything about it until I overdosed and went to rehab months later.”
“The most recent time? With the horses?”
There’s something soothing in the way she says it so matter-of-factly, like it’s not a forbidden subject spoken of only in hushed tones. Madeline says it the way she’d sayThat’s the night you had spaghetti for dinner, like it’s morally neutral. “Right. We kinda put my mom through it that winter.”
