Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Isa studying me, like she was clocking my comfort level. I casually reached up to adjust my Mets cap. She hadn’t caught on, had she?
“You’re, like, in an impossible situation,” Margot once said. Like Mom, she knew I had feelings for Grace. “Because you dated Isa, and Grace is her best friend. Best friendsneverdate each other’s ex-boyfriends. It’s an unspoken rule.” She sighed melodramatically. “And, I mean, imagine it fromGrace’sperspective. If she likes you back, telling your best friend you have a crush on someone should be so easy. She and Isa are like sisters! If she were to tell Isa she wants to be with you, it wouldn’t be like that between them anymore.” She’d given me a pointed look. “You probably never should’ve dated Isa.”
“But Iwantedto date Isa,” I said. “Who doesn’t want to be with their best friend at some point?”
Margot considered this. “True,” she said, then brightened from a sudden thought. “Grace and Isa would be kind of cute together, don’t you think?”
I groaned.
Thirteen-year-old sisters could be the worst.
But at least they were honest.
“Hey.” Isa’s voice brought me back down to our curbside picnic. She nudged Grace. “G, is that your phone?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “Let me…” She dug around for it in her pocket, and her face dropped when she saw the incoming call onscreen. My mom’s name had popped up: Mara Adler.
“Don’t answer it!” Isa shouted at the same time I said, “Answer it.”
Both Isa and Grace looked at me like I was nuts. “She’s just going to check in,” I told them. “I spoke to her earlier—”
“You what?!” they screeched.
“I spoke to her earlier,” I repeated. “We talked while I was exploring the art museum, and it was fine.” I shrugged. “I lied about how my Phillie Phanatic day was going so far—we should probably buy a Phillies jersey and forge Bryce Harper’s signature at some point today, to, you know, make it seem more legit—and she said she wanted to bring you some soup, Grace.”
“Oh.” Grace’s shoulders sank in relief. “That’s really sweet of her. My mom mentioned coming home for lunch—”
Isa’s eyes widened “She did?”
“—but there’s no way her schedule would actually allow that.” Her thumb hovered over her phone screen as she cleared her throat to channel a weak, lightheaded, lethargic voice.
Then she accepted my mother’s call.
“Hello?” Grace quavered. “Mrs.Adler?” She rose from the curb and walked farther down the sidewalk. I’d metaphorically taped my mouth shut, but Isa’s death stare really madeyou feel like you were in the hot seat. Grace didn’t need that added pressure.
Isa and I sat in silence for a few moments. Our food had been annihilated, so that was no longer a viable topic of conversation. What was safe to talk about? Maybe she’d opened up to Grace about her dickhead dad while waiting in line, but I sensed me hugging her outside the Comcast building was enough for now. And even though Grace was technically the one on the phone with my mom, I could still hear Mara Adler’s voice. “I know why you ended things, Everett,” she’d said earlier. “But does Isa? Does she truly know? Have you ever told her?”
Our breakup seemed a little loaded to bring up out of theblue.
Isa didn’t agree. “How could I have been this blind?” she asked suddenly.
“What?” I asked, caught off guard. What was she talking about?
Her father’s affair?
Grace and me?
Dad?
No, shecouldn’tknow about Dad. Neither of them did.
“I can’t believe I only noticed it today when it’s probably beenages.” Her voice was low. “Have you and Grace had the chance to decide who has the honor of stabbing me in the back?”
I laughed—laughed to cover up the fact that my heart ratewas about to go off the freaking charts. “Isa, don’t be so dramatic.”
“Really?” She arched an eyebrow. “I’m beingdramatic?” She snorted. “Come on, Everett, I have eyes. Twenty-twenty vision, actually. Ever since Grace and I got you out of school, it’s been weird. I couldn’t figure out why until we left the art museum.” Her face hardened. “You and Grace like each other.”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out; I couldn’t denyit.
