“Here you go.” Mom places a tall glass on the kitchen island, then empties the popcorn into the glass bowl and glides it toward Ten, grabbing a handful on the way.
“Ten!” Nev launches herself at him and strangles his waist.
When they break apart, she looks around the kitchen. “Where’s Dad?”
“Still in New York.” He gives her a once-over, and his eyebrows pull in, forming an almost uninterrupted line. “Where are your pants?”
“My sweatpants? In my bag.”
Just then, Mom’s cell phone rings in the living room. “I’ll be right back,” she says.
“It’s raining,” Ten says. “Go put them on.”
Nev’s smile flickers like a faulty light bulb. “But it’s hot.”
“You can’t walk around without pants.”
She blinks, but then her surprise is replaced by giggles, and she lifts the hem of her hoodie. “I have shorts.”
His expression is devoid of amusement. “Well, they’re too short.”
“Oh.” She peeps at me through her curtain of hair.
Before I can remind Ten how shorts got their name, Nev bows her head and climbs the stairs.
After the bedroom door shuts, I hiss, “You shouldn’t do that, Ten.”
“Do what?”
“Make her feel self-conscious about her body.”
“I didn’t say anything about her body. Just about her clothing choice. Which I’m guessing is yours, not hers…”
“It’s what girls today wear.”
His eyes flash. “What you choose to do, Angie, doesn’t concern me. What my kid sister chooses to do, that concerns me.”
“She’s twelve. Twelve-year-old girls wear cutoffs and crop tops.”
“Dad and I would rather she doesn’t walk around half-naked.”
I want to shake my head, but shock has hardened the tendons in my neck. “You’re protective, I get it, but she’s old enough to pick her own clothes.”
I can tell he doesn’t agree. His lips are as tight as my tank top.
“I’m ready,” Nev says softly.
Slowly, I turn toward her. How much has she heard? I move toward her and give her a one-armed hug.
“Come back whenever you want,” I tell her.
She answers me with a silent nod. Then she pulls away, and, ducking her head, she trails Ten to his car.
Upstairs, on my bed, lie the shorts I gave her. That isn’t the only thing she’s left behind, though—a tiny spot of wetness darkens my tank top.
Tears.
Stupid Ten managed to make his sister cry.
