A cringe rolls up my spine. I watch as the pile grows, edging me slowly back into my bedroom as the space around me continues to shrink.
Hattie finally emerges from her room. “Hey,” she says, “so I don’t think I can do the beach and the movies today.”
I groan and slam the door behind me.
Moments later, Hattie’s in my room. “Listen, you can go on without me.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “It’s my senior year, Hattie. We always do the beach and a movie.”
She sinks down onto my bed beside me. “I know. And I’m sorry, Ro. But we have to get all that shit into my room, and it’s just so much.”
“He really does have a lot of stuff.”
She sighs and rests her head against my shoulder.
“Like, can’t we throw all that shit in a shopping cart and leave it out front for Mrs. Pearlman to pick through? We don’t have room for all that stuff in here.” Mrs. Pearlman is a connoisseur of junk and gossip.
“I’ll tell you what,” she says. “You help me get all that crap in my room and we can go to the movies.”
I hold my hand out to her and we shake on it. “Deal,” I say.
While Hattie gets started on Tyler’s stuff and he begins to install his consoles in the living room, I text Saul and Ruthie and let them know we’ve got to bail on the beach. Saul sends a series of dramatically disappointed selfies and Ruthie simply responds with aK.
I decide that since we’re already breaking tradition, I might as well invite Freddie to join us at the movies. I waver back and forth for a moment on whether I should call or text. Since I haven’t officially waved my gay flag for Freddie, I don’t want him to think this is anything more than us hanging out as friends. I opt for a text.
Tyler’s crap is endless, and most of it is dirty laundry. And the fact that he took his dirty laundry from his mom’s house to his girlfriend’s house? Well, that pisses me off.
When Dad leaves for work, he calls to us from the other end of the hallway, because the floor is completely covered in Tyler’s stuff. I can see my dad’s neck and ears turning red—a sure sign of his rising blood pressure. I wish he would say something. Anything. Tell Tyler he can’t expect to fit all this shit in our house or tell him he can’t move in at all. But all Dad sees is Hattie. He couldn’t make it work with Mom, so the best he can do is give Hattie and Tyler a fighting chance. “Y’all make sure to close the door when you’re coming and going. Don’t want that cold air to get out. Love you, girls.”
Tyler doesn’t say anything. Not even a weak thank-you.
“Love you, too,” Hattie and I chirp back.
I glare at Tyler, but he’s oblivious.
After the three of us spend a few hours weeding through boxes and trash bags, Saul picks Hattie and me up. I’m too lazy and sweaty to change out of my swimsuit, so I throw a dress on over and grab a flannel shirt for the movie.
As we’re leaving, Hattie asks Tyler if he’s sure he doesn’t want to go. He says, “I’m gonna stay in and finish my game.”
“And look at porn,” I add the minute he closes her bedroom door.
Hattie shrugs as she locks the front door behind us. “He’s not getting it here,” she says. “I feel about as sexy as a watermelon.”
“Well, I think you’re a super-sexy watermelon!” Saul calls from his Jeep.
My sister takes the front and gives Saul a huge kiss on the cheek while Ruthie and I hop in the back, and the four of us leave to pick up Freddie.
“Sorry we missed the beach,” I say on behalf of the both of us.
Ruth pulls her shoulder-length blond hair into a ponytail. She has that perfect, thick kind of hair that’s only ever been dyed by the sun. “That’s okay,” she says. “Saul got into it with our parents this morning, so we didn’t even go either.”
He glances at me in the rearview mirror. “They’re trying to institute some kind of curfew on me, like I’m not an adult.”
“You didn’t come in until four a.m.,” Ruth reminds him.
“And you think Dad would’ve cared if a girl was dropping me off?”
She sighs and leans back into her seat, because he’s right. The two of them have plenty of things that Hattie and I don’t—a nice house, money for college (unless you’re Saul and don’t plan on going), and a guaranteed car as a high school graduation present. But something we have that they don’t is our dad. He’s not perfect, but he accepts the two of us in a way Saul and Ruth’s parents have never been capable of. I’m not even allowed over at their house—as if I could somehow make Saul or Ruth gayer than they already are.
