“Oh thank God!” Mom rushes toward her, her phone already raised to her ear. “She’s here, Jeff. She’s okay… Hold on a sec.” She extends the phone toward Nev. “Nev, your father wants to talk to you.”
Nev shakes her head, then croaks, “N-not now.”
I hear Jeff roar on Mom’s cell.
“Tell him she’ll call him back once she calms down,” I say, and then I pluck one of Nev’s limp hands, tug her into the living room, and sit her down in the armchair.
After Mom disconnects, she says, “I’m sorry, sweetie, but he’s coming over.”
“How long?” Nev’s voice sounds as raw as her face looks.
“He was ten minutes away, but he’s probably breaking every speed limit.”
“Angie”—Nev wrings her hands—“I’m so sorry.”
I sigh. “You should be. You just gave us all a heart attack!”
“Uh, not about that.”
Nev darts a glance at Mom.
I cross my arms in front of my chest. “I told her everything.”
“Everything?” Nev squeaks, before dipping her chin to her neck. “I’m sorry, Jade.”
Sighing, Mom sits on the armrest of the couch, folding one leg underneath her. “Why did you do it? I mean the contest entry. Not the class cutting.”
“Because I thought… I thought Angie wouldn’t go through with it—”
“Which you were right about,” I say.
“—because my brother was making her not do it.”
It would be unjust of me to say that Ten didn’t play a part in my decision, albeit passively.
“Sweetheart, when someone doesn’t want to do something, you can’t force it upon them,” my mom says.
Nev hangs her head lower. “I know, Jade.”
Mom and I exchange a look.
“But what’s done is done. Now you have to face the consequences.”
“Dad’s going to send me away to boarding school when he finds out,” Nev whispers.
“He won’t, sweetie,” Mom says.
Nev starts sobbing, so my mother stands and walks over to the armchair, and then crouches in front of Nev. “He wouldneversend you away.”
“Please don’t tell him,” she whispers.
“It’s not up to me. It’s up to Angie.”
I sigh. “I won’t tell him. And I won’t make you tell him either, but I do want you to tell Ten, or your brother will never trust me again, let alone speak to me.”
Mom glances at me. I can’t tell what she’s thinking—maybe that I’m wrong in letting Nev get away with this, or maybe that I’m being mature for letting Nev off the hook.
“I’ll give Mona the rights to my song, and that’ll be the end of it,” I say.
