That woke her. “Frankie?” Her tone shifted—still sharp, but alert. “Where are you?”
“In my car.”
“Are you crying?”
“Not… currently.” My throat was raw, though, so it wasn’t exactly convincing.
There was a pause on the line. “What happened?”
I laughed, a short, broken sound. “How much time do you have?”
“For you? All day. Talk.”
So I did. I told her everything—at least the parts I could manage without hyperventilating. About Maddy and Eddie. About theyou’re my fatherreveal that had detonated in the middle of our kitchen. About Archie. About dating invites and making it clear he was interested in me and me… me I wanted to entertain that idea. Now I wanted to scrub my own skin off.
When I finished, there was only silence. Then, “Holy shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Holy—Frankie. What the actual hell.”
“Right?”
Another beat of silence, then she said dryly, “You know, most people just find out their parents are secretly romance readers or have a gambling problem. You always have to outdo everyone.”
“Glad I could keep it interesting,” I muttered.
Rachel let out a low whistle. “So let me get this straight, your mom lies your whole life about who your dad is, your dad turns out to beArchie’sdad, and you and Archie?—”
“Don’t say it.”
“—kissed.”
“Rachel!”
“I’m just clarifying the trauma, hon.”
“Thanks, that helps so much,” I said, pressing my palm to my forehead.
Her voice softened, though her words didn’t. “Okay, look. First thing, none of this is on you. You didn’t know. Neither did he. So you get to stop blaming yourself right now.”
I didn’t answer.
“Frankie,” she said firmly. “You hear me? This is not your fault.”
“I wanted to kiss my brother,” I whispered, and hearing it out loud again made my stomach turn. I’d imagined more than just kissing him. I’d pictured what it would be like to…
“No. You wanted to kiss yourfriend. Biology dropped the bomb later. These arenotthe same thing.”
“I can’t even think about it without wanting to crawl out of my skin.”
“Yeah, well, skin crawling’s an appropriate response to this level of family drama.” She sighed, and I could hear her getting up, probably pacing. “Your mom really hit you?”
Why was she focusing on that? “Hardly the first time.” Honestly, that part wasn’t even that important.
“Jesus Christ.”
“I’m fine.”
