“Yesterday I was lying tothem,” Alice says. “This is lying tohim.About himself.”
“Ah,” Isabella says, mindlessly catching Hazel’s iPad right before it clatters to the floor with some sort of mom-spidey-sense. “Okay. I get that. But also, like…” She purses her lips, and Alice watches as the thoughts flicker over her face. “It kind of still feels like a victimless crime to me.”
Alice’s face must do something, because Bella holds up a hand. “No, but, listen. If you say, ‘Hey, I’m going to step back while you all deal with this recovery, I don’t want to makethings more confusing for him, and when he’s ready we can be together again,’ how much does that really hurt him? Or them? You get to eject yourself for a while without blowing up the relationships and making everyone feel like crap; when it comes time you can date him and if it works, then, like, hey, bonus boyfriend! And if it doesn’t, it’s, like, ‘Boy, bye.’ You break up—no harm, no foul. You’re not gaslighting anyone; it honestly didn’t work out.”
Alice stops herself from rejecting the idea out of hand just because she didn’t have it first, and she really turns it over in her mind. It does…it does kind of make sense. Like,Hey, if he doesn’t remember me, that’s cool, I won’t force it. Y’all focus on him, and I’ll be okay. Maybe send me a Christmas card or something.And then when he’s ready—if he’s ready—she could date him for a few weeks and if he’s as great as she had always imagined, then super. And if he’s the douche she’s been suspecting him to be for the last nine days, then it would simply be over.
“Yeah,” she says slowly. “If it’s permanent, if his memories never come back, then that could work. For sure. But…one small other problem.” She grimaces. “Um, I might have, uhh…made out. With Van. This afternoon.”
“Youwhat?” Isabella’s screech is so loud that both kids rip their eyes off their iPads, and every patron in the restaurant turns to stare at them.
Alice hides her face in her hands. “I know.”
Isabella drops her voice to a harsh whisper, patting Sebastian on the head reassuringly, but Alice is pretty sure the nearby tables can still hear her. “You made out with Van?”
Alice doesn’t take her face out of her hands. “Yes.”
“This afternoon?”
“Yes.”
“Before or after he woke up?”
“Umm…I think, like, during?”
“Oh my god. Thisisa soap opera.”
“Bella,” Alice whines, dropping her forehead directly onto the table now. “Help me.”
Isabella sounds like she’s almost laughing when she says, “Speaking as a professional, may I just note that you’re a walking PR disaster, Rue Rue?”
Alice moans into the scratched, waxy wood of the table. “Iknow.”
“Okay, pause,” Bella says, and Alice picks up her head. “Did you know you liked girls before this, or are we also having an identity crisis right now?”
Alice shakes her head. “No, no. I’ve known I was bi since high school.”
“Okay, whew,” Bella says, literally wiping off her forehead in a move that’s so corny Alice can’t help but smile. “Glad that’s one thing handled.”
“Only one million to go,” Alice says, trying to fake a cheerful, announcer-type voice.
Bella has finished all of her fries, and Alice can see her eyeing the ones on Alice’s plate. She pushes the whole plate over, her stomach churning too much even for potatoes.
“So,” Bella says around a bite of Alice’s fry. “How was it?”
Alice blinks a couple times. “What? The…the making out?”
Isabella nods and Alice tries not to think about it, about how Van’s lips glided against hers, how her tongue tasted, how she can still feel Van’s hands everywhere they touched.
“Oh boy,” Bella says, watching her face carefully. “I don’t think I’m old enough to hear the thoughts you’re having right now.” Alice feels her cheeks heating up like she’s in front of a blazing fire, and Isabella laughs. “That good, huh?”
“Yeah,” Alice says softly. “That good.”
Bella considers it all, holding out a French fry and practically forcing Alice to eat it, like Alice is her third child. “So if you do this plan, and say ‘Good luck, call me later’ to the family, that would leave you and Van where?”
Alice shrugs. “I don’t know.”
Isabella narrows her eyes. “Where do you want to be?”
