“Well, go grab it. You too, Angie.”
Nev trots up the stairs. There’s a spring in her step that wasn’t there last night. I follow her slowly, having left my spring somewhere underneath the fallboard.
Nev pauses at the top of the staircase, fingers gripping the steel railing. “Are you okay?”
I give her a tight nod.
“Did I… did Idosomething?”
“What?” I paste on a frown. “Of course not.”
She draws her hand off the banister and murmurs, “Okay.” She doesn’t sound convinced.
I grab my bathing suit and stuff it inside a bag along with a pair of sunglasses, my earbuds, and a book. Knowing Mom, she’ll run into some friends at the club, and we’ll be sitting by the pool alongtime. Not that I mind if I’m listening to music. I just hope she’s not expecting me to babysit Nev.
28
Back in Sync
After scarfing down an entire hamburger, I don my bathing suit. Thank God it’s stretchy, because I feel like a snake who’s just ingested an egg. I come out of the changing room at the same time as Nev. Her beach towel is wound so tightly around her diminutive frame she resembles a burrito.
We didn’t talk much during lunch. Well, I didn’t. Mom and Nev discussed the Dylans’ mansion decoration at great length. Even though Nev asked me for input on a color scheme and furniture for her bedroom, I was vague with my answers, afraid residual jealousy might tint my feedback. I don’t want to be the reason she ends up with green shag carpeting on her ceiling.
Mom’s already outside when we emerge from the locker room. She’s managed to secure three lounge chairs in the sun. I drop my bag on the glass side table, then lay my towel out. Nev climbs onto her lounge chair, still shrink-wrapped in her towel. Maybe she’s chilly?
I stick my earbuds in and close my eyes. After the third song, I lift my lids and stare at the blazing sun until my eyes water. When did I become the girl who needs her mommy to pat her back?Ugh…Mom doesn’t even like the type of music I like, so her praise wouldn’t mean all that much.
The only person’s recognition I need is Mona Stone’s. Thinkingabout her has me glancing over at Nev. It’s not fair that I’ve taken my insecurities out on a twelve-year-old. I pull out my earbuds and sit up, a drop of sweat slinking down my spine.
Mom’s on the other side of the pool, chatting with an elderly couple. If I’m not mistaken, she redid their ranch house last year.
“Want to go for a swim?” I ask Nev.
She looks at me, anguish lacquering her gray eyes silver.
“Do you not know how to swim?”
She keeps her gaze on the bracelet glinting on her wrist. Like Ten’s, it readsI ROCK. Unlike Ten’s, hers is yellow gold instead of silver.
Even though I’m dying to hear the story behind the matching bracelets, I stay on topic. “Nev?”
I think of the image of the swing suspended over the pool that Mom showed me a couple of weeks back. Nev must know how to swim. If she didn’t, a swing would be incredibly unsafe.
Her lips finally pull apart. “What did I do?” she whispers.
“What?”
She’s staring down at her knees, which peek out from her towel, round and knobby like a newborn foal’s. “You haven’t talked to me once since we got here.”
I tip my head to the side, seeking out her downturned eyes. “Okay… I’m not proud of what I’m about to tell you.”
Am I really about to admit to a twelve-year-old that she made me feel insecure? I glance at her stringy hair and skinny form, and they remind me that she, too, is full of insecurities.
“Iwasjealousofyou.” I say this the same way I rip off Band-Aids—fast, because speed makes things less painful. In this case… less shameful.
She jerks her shiny gaze up. “What?”
It also makes things less intelligible. “I was jealous of you,” I repeat slowly, cheeks hot, but that’s partly due to the sun beating down on me. I pick at a cuticle, stripping off a tiny piece of skin, flinching from the quick burn. “Mom’s never complimented my voice.”
