Sam sighs and says, “Marta!She was a year behind me in school. She was a nosy parker then, and she’s a nosy parker now.” She claps a hand over her mouth and says, “I can’t believe I just saidnosy parker.That’s something my grandmother used to say. Anyway. It’s not a party. It’s a get-together. It’s really just cast.”
“Sure, yeah, of course,” says Maggie, as nonchalant as you please. “I get it.” In a smaller voice she says, “I did sign up to be an usher. I know that’s not cast, but.”
Sam hesitates. “You know what? It’s fine. Come. You should come.”
“Okay,” says Maggie, trying so hard to act like this is no big deal she’s afraid she might burst a vein. “Sure. I think I’m free.” (She is sodefinitelyabsolutelyfree.) Riley is going tofreak out. “Can I bring my friend Riley?” she asks. “And I’m sure Riley will want to bring her boyfriend, Jacob.” She rolls her eyes to show that this is Riley’s preference, not hers. “But that’s it, I promise.”
“Um,” says Sam. “Well, but are you all fifteen?”
“Almost sixteen,” clarifies Maggie. “Jacob’s already sixteen.”
Sam hesitates. “I just don’t want to be responsible for like corrupting the youth of the island.”
“Oh, you won’t,” says Maggie. “We go to summer parties all the time.” She hopes Sam doesn’t notice her tell, a bright red earlobe. “It’s no big deal.”
When she was thirteen, two years ago, Maggie wore only T-shirts with slogans on them—I don’t want to taco ’bout it, it’s nacho problem,with a picture of a taco, was her favorite—but once she gave those up and discovered she actually had decent abs her wardrobe gota lotmore interesting. Tonight she’s wearing her high-waisted denim shorts and a V-neck cropped tank top in a deep rose that makes her tan glow. She’s in Riley’s bedroom, examining herself in Riley’s full-length mirror. Despite her freckles, she’s finally managed to get a decent tan. Riley has the boobs though, and the boyfriend. Even if it’s only Jacob.
“I can’tbelieveyou got us invited to a party at Sam Trevino’s house,” says Riley. She stands back from the mirror to assess her mascara application. “Nice job by our little Maggie!”
Maggie rolls her eyes. “It’s a get-together,” she clarifies. “Small. Not a party.”Our little Maggie.Yes, she’s shorter than Riley, but in fact she’s two months older. Ever since acquiring a boyfriend over the winter Riley has begun to treat Maggie like Maggie is Riley’s hapless, naive younger sister. And it’s not like Riley’s boyfriend is any great catch. Not even close. Jacob is part of their eight-member class at Block Island’s single, tiny school, and they’ve all known each other basically since time began. Personally Maggie thinks dating Jacob would be like dating your own brother. (Maggie doesn’t have a brother—the closest approximation is Max, the son of Maggie’s mom’s live-in boyfriend, Anthony. Max is six.)
“I’m going to pee,” announces Riley, and she disappears into the bathroom attached to her bedroom. Riley, like Maggie, is an only child, but unlike Maggie she doesn’t have to share her bathroom with every member of the household; she has it all to herself.
Riley’s phone, faceup on the bed, buzzes, and Maggie glances at it. Jacob. Ugh. Even when he’s not here he has to intrude. Riley is not a believer in face ID or passwords or really privacy of any kind. She’d let anyone in the world into her phone. For some reason Maggie can’t help herself: she picks up the phone and taps on the message.Ur so hot bae.
Ugh,again. Is this how Jacob and Riley text on a regular basis? She taps the message again, opening the text history between them, and she sees... wait, what? It’s a photo taken in Riley’s full-length mirror, the one Maggie was just using to adjust the straps of her tank top. And the person, whose face is not shown, is full-on naked. Well, not “the person”—it’s Riley. Maggie recognizes the mole on Riley’s stomach (noncancerous; she had it checked in the spring); she recognizes the boobs; she recognizes even the landing strip of pubic hair. She and Riley have been undressing in front of each other for ages. She knows what her friend looks like naked.
“So listen, I think if we tell my mom—” Riley is saying when she opens the bathroom door and sees Maggie holding the phone. Maggie drops it back on the bed, hot-potato-style, and Riley stares at her, then picks up the phone herself and looks at it. “Oh!” she says. “Did you see my latest photo shoot?Idon’t care. Go ahead and look.”
Go ahead and look?Maggie is stymied. “Riley!” she says. “What do you mean, latest?”
“Latest and greatest,” says Riley. “I think I finally got the lighting right. I look good, right?” She smiles. “See my tan line? It’s super faint, not like yours, but I’ll take what I can get.”
“Riley!”
Now it’s Riley’s turn to roll her eyes. “Oh, come on, Mags. You aren’t going to give me some mom-style lecture, are you?”
“But why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you take those photos of yourself?”
“Sometimes Jacob asks me to, so I do.”
“Does he do it back?”
“Sometimes. Sure.”
Maggie shudders. “Riley! What if your mom sees?”
“She won’t. I always have my phone with me.”
“Still...”
“What?What’s wrong with it? If I don’t have a problem with it, why should you?”
“Because...” Maggie hesitates. “Because bad things could happen.”
