Cam reached for her water but didn’t take a drink. “I don’t know.”
None of the usual objections seemed to apply. She and Jeff didn’t come from different social classes, or warring clans. Besides, those lines were a lot more fluid in this century. Short of being royalty or blood relatives, there weren’t many barriers to a relationship between willing parties.
“You just don’t like him?” I finally asked, though that had not been my impression.
Her laugh sounded more like a sigh. “I wish.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to become a person I don’t recognize.Jeff’s girlfriend. Half of a couple. I like this me.” She thumped her thigh with a fist. “I don’t want to lose myself.”
“Is that what happens?”
She tipped her head back, leaning against the unmade bed. “How should I know? That’s how it looks from the outside.” Cam blew out a breath. “Since when is a high school guy mature enough to respect my autonomy?”
“He certainlylooksmature.”
The ghost of a smile played across my sister’s face. She knew I was talking about Jeff’s manly physique.
Ignoring the blush I could feel creeping up my neck, I summoned a serious expression. Seeing them together this afternoon, I would have sworn the matter was a fait accompli. The emotion between them had felt so real, beyond anything I’d imagined existing in the realm of High School Relationships. Surely there could be only one outcome.
“You could always take a risk and see what happens?” The irony of saying this to the sister whose derring-do was the stuff of family legend wasn’t lost on me. Then again, in this one area, her bravery seemed to have a blind spot. “It wouldn’t have to be a lifelong commitment. Since you’re seventeen and all.”
She cocked an eyebrow at me. “You think it might be okay?”
Cam, the most resolute of my family members—possibly ofanyone’sfamily members—soliciting my opinion? I would have to record this moment for posterity later.
“I do.” If Arden were here, she would already be plotting their next encounter. Almost I could hear her voice, speaking through me. “You could start small. Something low-pressure, like coffee or lunch?”
“Lunch,” Cam repeated, expression thoughtful. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
In the interest of discretion, I opted not to answer.
Dear Diary,
Today I’m going to see a movie without reading the book first.
Mea culpa.
M.P.M.
Chapter 20
Located in a gated modern subdivisionlined with neatly manicured lots, Arden’s house was decorated in the same palette as her beloved coffee drinks: not quite brown, not quite beige, but with hints of each swirled into the creamy background fluff. Terry called itdulce de leche,and said it made her want cake. To someone raised in a warren of lamp-lit rooms scaled to the tastes of a previous century, the newness was endlessly fascinating, as was her pantry full of the kind of snacks that get advertised on TV. I didn’t see the wordssuperfoodornon-GMOanywhere.
After hauling our colorful bags of junk food to the basement, we sank into the mammoth L-shaped couch facing the flat-screen TV.
“Are you ready?” Arden asked me, remote pointed at the screen.
I nodded solemnly.
She closed her eyes as a shiver passed through her narrow frame. “I can’t believe this is your first time. It’s like the one classic you don’t know.”
I pasted a pleased smile to my face as the movie began, ready to be amazed. But what was all this dappled sunlight? Whence the rowboats and waterfowl and old people? It reminded me of a greeting card, and not the fancy letterpress kind.This is what happens when you don’t read the book first,whispered a critical voice inside my head.
Once the action moved to the past I felt more in my element. The old “rich girl, poor boy” scenario; the picture was coming into focus. I settled more deeply into the cushions, box of chocolate sandwich cookies at my side.
When the final credits rolled, Arden reached for the remote to mute the sound. “Gets me every time,” she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “What a relief.”
