“Sorry,” I apologize. “I just…” Am never home to see her. Or him. And I don’t listen well.
“It’s okay.”
I know it’s not.
She shrugs and disappears into her dressing room to take off the green monstrosity.
Rose shoots me a cold glare. “Who do you think she’s been texting all day?”
She’s been texting?“Dad?” I try.
Rose rolls her eyes dramatically.
Maria throws her ballet flat at me. Jesus!
“Maria!” Poppy exclaims.
Rose laughs loudly. I think this is the first time a child has made her smile. And it was by abusing me with a shoe!
“They’re stupid!”
I gape. Did she call me stupid? Is everyone really that mad at me? Even a child?
“Don’t use that word,” Poppy scolds. “Tell Lily you’re sorry.”
“I hate shoes!”Okay, good.At least someone still hasn’t fallen out of love with me. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!”
“What about these.” I point to a box of glittery silver flats with pink clips. Maria’s eyes widen and calms. I smile. “Are you sure she’s not Rose’s kid? Toss her some Prada and she shuts up.”
Rose’s laughter dies down. “Funny.”
Poppy says, “I’m going to take Maria to the bathroom.”She’s going to spank her.My mother used to threaten with awooden spoon. Those hurt, you know. They’re pretty damn scary, and I learned to quiet in public places, fearing the wrath of my mother and the swat of a utensil. “Can you watch my dressing room, Lil? My purse is in there.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Once she disappears from sight, Rose moves a few bags and finds a seat next to me. “Is it Loren?”
I frown. “What?”
Her yellow-green eyes meet mine. “Is he keeping you from us?”
My stomach churns with acid. Lo keeping me from them? I want to laugh or cry or scream, anything—maybe, just maybe, even shout the truth.I can’t fit you into my schedule, not when it’s booked with sex, not when you wouldn’t understand.
“It’s not Lo. I’m just busy, sometimes even too busy for him.”
“You’re not lying to me, are you?”
I look at my hands, a small tell, but I doubt she’ll pick up on it. I shake my head. “No.”
After lingering silence, she says, “I told Mom that Penn would be too hard for you. Of course she didn’t listen. You weren’t the model student at Dalton.”
I laugh, that’s an understatement. “My grades sucked.” Dalton Academy rode me hard, in many ways. Without my family’s achievements, I wouldn’t have been accepted to an Ivy League. That much is clear.
“I remember filling out your applications,” Rose says with pursed lips, but there’s a shimmer in her eyes, as though the moment is a fond one for her. I barely remember it. I must have been surfing the internet, looking at porn. Thinking about sex.
“You did a good job,” I say. “I got in.”
“What did it matter? You chose Penn, not Princeton.” She stands and pretends to admire herself in the mirror, but I can tell she’s trying to hide her real feelings. We fought a lot when I made the decision to go to college with Lo and not her. Shenever talked about being roommates with me, but Poppy later told me that Rose had already begun picking out dishware and furniture for an apartment off campus that she hoped we would share.
