I laughed. I laughed so hard that I had to bend over, put my hands on my knees. “The only one?” I choked out. “Theonly onewho noticed?” I got myself together, then looked at my sister again. Where to begin? The food poisoning hospital visit? The notes left on her locker? Oh, the possibilities. “Hashtag SavingGrace” was what I decided to say, wrapping it all in a pretty little bow. “Has that popped up on your social media today? By any chance?”
I watched my sister dig her phone out of her purse. “We unplugged for the day,” she explained. “I’ve just been ignoring everything.” Her eyes widened once she’d scanned her feed. “Shit. It’s like they’re holding a vigil.”
“Exactly,” I said, then cleared my throat. “You’re the president, and basically never sick. How could you think I’d be the only one who’d notice you were absent?”
Grace shifted from one foot to the other. “Why did you track us down, anyway?” she asked.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I answered. “I would’ve tagged along in a second, but you didn’t even give me the chance. I know it would’ve made things more difficult, with me being on a no-fly list and all.” I glanced at Isa, who nodded encouragingly. “I just would’ve appreciated an invitation.”
I expected my sister to say she was sorry, I did.
But it turned out I was profoundly mistaken.
“Invite you?” Grace exclaimed. “Why would I invite you, James? You never want to hang out with me! Aside from making ice cream sundaes together and family stuff, that’s it. I mean, we watch Netflix separately, even if it’s the same show.”
“Because you talk too much during episodes!” I blurted. “We don’t always need your commentary!”
Grace andPeaky Blinders? OrWednesday? OrSquid Game?
Just, no.
My sister swallowed hard, like something was stuck in her throat. “We also never talk about anything real anymore,” she said. “Like, we’ve never talked about college. Are you excited for it? Are you nervous? Are you going to find a roommate on Facebook or will you go random?” Tears trickled down her face. “And jeez, do you even care that we’re moving?”
Off to the side, Isa gasped. “Wait, what? You’removing?”
“Yeah.” Grace nodded and wiped her eyes. “We’re moving.”
Isa started freaking out. From Everett’s complete lack of reaction, I deduced that he’d already known or suspected—the guy was low-key Sherlock Holmes—but it was clear Isa hadn’t. “I just thought your mom was suddenly inspired by my house,” she said, eyes wavering between Grace and me.
My chest tightened. Isa and I’d agreed not to keep secrets from each other, but this…I hadn’t breathed a word. Whenever Isa commented on a new paint color or given me a bemused but also confused look when Mom said we weren’t allowed to wear shoes in the house anymore, I’d just shrugged.
Now I reached for her, pulling her in tight, and breathed in her floral-scented shampoo. “I didn’t tell you because I have no idea where we’re going,” I said. “Our parents haven’t toldus.”
“All they’ve done is consult a Realtor and start repaintingthe house,” Grace chimed in, a bitter edge to her voice. “Apparently it needs to be all neutrals.”
“Then my house is a Realtor’s dream,” Isa muttered before pulling away. “You guyscan’tmove! How can your parents evenwantto move? Your house is our home!”
Our home. I wouldn’t deny that. My family had lived in our house for almost two decades, and after meeting in kindergarten, Isa and Everett had basically moved in themselves. How many hours had we clocked messing around in the basement? How many birthday parties had been held in the backyard? How many dinners at our kitchen table? How many legendary game nights?
I turned to Grace, who held tight to one of Everett’s hands. “There’s no way in hell I want to move,” I told her. “I want to Sharpie the foyer walls just as much as you do.”
Mischief flickered across her face. “How do you know that?” she asked.
“Because I knowyou.” I smirked and let a beat pass before sighing. “But what pisses me off most is being left out of the conversation. We have no fucking clue about our parents’ vision for the future.” I rubbed my forehead. “I wish they’d talk to us.”
My sister nodded. “You’re right; we deserve to know their plans. We might be legal adults, but we’re still their kids. We’re allowed on their insurance plan until we’re twenty-six.”
I chuckled, and so did she. “How about we get the details at dinner tonight?” I suggested. “I talked to Dad earlier…”I laughed again, seeing Grace’s eyes widen with alarm. She could go ahead and sweat for a bit; it was fine by me. “And he said we’re having chicken Parm tonight.” I winked. “Will you be well enough to eat, my ailing twin?”
She winked back. “Oh, dear twin, I’m sure I can manage a few bites.”
“Okay, but you’ll defend the house, right?” Isa said. “You’re not just going to let them put up a For Sale sign?”
Ah, a For Sale sign. I pictured the two hidden in the Subaru’s trunk and also wondered if the neighborhood had been shocked at the sign planted on the Álvarez lawn yet.Rose, you didn’t tell me you and Eric wanted to move!I could imagine old Mrs.Claffey saying.Will Marco still be available to mow my lawn?
Grace and I shared a conspiring grin. Things might’ve been bumpy these past few years, but maybe my sister and I could work our way back to being teammates. Operation Not for Sale would be a strong start.
“Don’t worry, Isa,” I heard Everett say as my stomach started to spin. “I have a feeling that if a For Sale sign goes up, a chain saw is going to mysteriously take it down….”
