My mind pushed hard to keep up, snagging briefly on that time frame; I couldn’t believe Dex humored my sister for an hour and the building was still standing.
“Vi,” Phoebe said, tearing my attention back to her. The grin faded, but fireworks burst in her eyes. “Dex is going to Oregon to see Catalina. We should go with him.”
My lips pulled into a smile against my will. “I’m sorry,what?”
“Your sister has it all figured out,” Dex said, deadpan, and whatever emotion was swirling ominously through my chest weakened.
“Figured what out?”
“Hear me out,” Phoebe said. Her eyes locked on me, determined. I’d seen that look before. A blond toddler taking a running leap into an in-ground pool; an eight-year-old reaching for the scariest book in the horror section at Barnes & Noble.Phoebe’s mind was a trap, and when it latched on to something, the end. All I could do was deal with the aftermath: jumping into a freezing pool after her, snuggling in bed with the lights on until she fell asleep.
Or whateverthiswas going to be.
“We need this,” she said. “Things suck right now. Everything has sucked since Dad died. We needed something to pull us out of it and suddenly that letter shows up… We weremeantto get that letter, Vi. We were meant to find Dex. And we’re meant to go to Oregon to give it to Catalina.”
A humorless laugh escaped me. “What? No.”
“Don’t say no, yet!” Phoebe’s eyes darted from me to Dex and back again. He surveyed the scene, arms crossed, expression pinched, like maybe I wasn’t following the script. “I know it sounds crazy. Maybe it is. But ever since Dad died, everything has been warped. Like it’s not even real. Sometimes it’s like… like nothing even matters.” She winced, noticing the panic rising in my eyes, and added, “Don’t read into that. I’m not explaining this right.”
“Tell her what you told me,” Dex offered. My eyes snapped to him, the contents of my stomach lurching like we’d hit the loop of a roller coaster.
Tell her what you told me.
Not only had she graced him with an hour of her time—something I was only awarded if I supplied take-out—but she’dtalkedto him. Given the fact that Dex seemed softer in her presence, I’d wager she’d delved into the things she reserved for her therapist. Maybe deeper.
Phoebe bit her lip, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, reluctant to share what she’d offered Dex. Her resistance to let me in cut to the bone. In her desperation to get what she wanted, she’d unraveled a little bit. But not for me. Never for me.
“It’s not important,” she said, waving this off. I scraped some damp hair out of my face, hoping neither of them could detect the pain reverberating in my chest. “School sucks. Grief sucks. Whatever. We need this, Vi. Weneedto see this through.”
“Haven’t we?”
“No! This is the most important part. We can’t miss it!”
“We’re not a part of it, Bee. This has nothing to do with us.”
“The postal service got us involved,” she insisted. Dex turned his gaze to the ceiling. “And now we’re here. It’s all of our thing. We have to do this. Together.”
My mind scrambled for three things, came up empty. I was at a complete loss. I couldn’t give in to everything Phoebe wanted purely because our dad died, but the temptation to agree wasn’t even about that, really. It was the look on her face, the wondrous light, the long-dormant smile. Dex’s letter had brought my sister back to life, and I’d already made a fool of myself ensuring we had the chance to see this through.
“What are you doing?” Dex demanded, snapping me out of my head. His attention was back on me, eyes fiery. “You’re considering this, aren’t you?”
“No,” I lied.
“You are. It’s written all over your face.”
“You don’t know me well enough to read my face.”
“You’re an open book.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “It’s not happening. No.”
Phoebe wheeled around. “What the hell? You said you’d consider it if Violet said yes!”
“I didn’t think she would,” he muttered. “That’s on me. I should’ve known how this would go after that fucking dress.”
My cheeks flushed fever hot. I stood up. “What kind of asshole makes a kid promises and immediately rips the rug out from under them?”
At my side, Phoebe stared him down, and he looked between us emotionlessly; the only indication this meant anything to him were his clenched fists.
“How do you live with yourself?” Phoebe added, piling on in that voice she used when issuing a challenge. As if this was a game, not some life-altering fork in the road.
