Page 270 of Mad Girl

“What else does she know about you that I don’t?” Michael asked.

“Nothing,” you said quickly—too quickly.

“Yeah? Maybe one of the liars she mentioned down there was you. What big things are you hiding?”

“I wouldn’t put too much stock in what she said, not after she’d been drinking. Listen, I know I hurt you⁠—”

“Hurt? Hurt doesn’t even begin to describe how you made me feel over the summer.”

“I’m sorry, alright? Have I not made that clear? Do you want to hit me or something? Is that what you need? To finally forgive me?”

“I need you to be honest,” Michael said. “Do you have feelings for her?”

“Do you?”

“My feelings for her are purely platonic,” said Michael, and he was lying, too.

You guys couldn’t seem to be honest with each other at all. I definitely wasn’t the only one with this problem.

“I’m not so sure that’s true,” you said. “If it were, you wouldn’t be giving me the third degree about the nature of my feelings.”

“I’m looking out for her. The last thing a girl with abandonment issues needs is for you to draw her in with that whole irresistible, please-want-me thing you have going on, only to shove her away when she gets too close and sees what’s broken about you.”

“Is that what you think I did with you?”

“Yeah. I saw too much, right? I saw the way your piece-of-shit dad treated you—saw exactly why you’re so screwed up emotionally—so you kept shutting me out over there.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you said. “It’s just—people don’t typically get to see that side of my life. I don’t normally let them.”

“Except Jake. He’s definitely seen that part of your life.”

“Only because we grew up together. I didn’t choose for him to see it. He was just there.”

“And then I was there,” Michael said, “missing my whole summer at the beach to be with you so you wouldn’t have to deal with that asshole all alone, and you kept ditching me for him. For Jake. It’s like the only people who matter to you are people you have the potential to fuck.”

“That’s not true. He might’ve been my best mate growing up—and, yes, I have a certain kind of history with him—but you’re my best mate now. You mean more to me than he ever has—or ever will. You’re very important to me, Michael,” you said, so softly and delicately that my throat squeezed.

“Right,” Michael said. “I’m so important you told Elliot you were adopted a full year before you told me. So important I had to find out from my dad that you and Nic have been talking about you starting an internship at the firm.”

“It wasn’t meant to be a secret or anything. You’ve been busy with the election stuff. I would’ve told you eventually.”

“Sure,” Michael said. “Just makes me wonder if I’ll learn anything else you’d planned on telling me eventually, you know?”

You were quiet for a long time, no doubt thinking about that one thing. The life-altering thing. The I’m-your-brother thing.

“Listen,” you said, “I’ve been a shitty friend lately. I⁠—”

“Hey,” said Michael, cutting you off. “Don’t worry about it, man. I’ll be fine. And I’ll take care of Elliot, okay? You can go now.”

I heard you heave a discontented sigh, then the sound of your footsteps as you left my room. When Michael roused me, I faked waking from my nice little catnap—pretty convincingly, I might add—pretending I hadn’t heard a thing. While he sat nearby, I drank a full glass of water and devoured the food, head still swimming from the scotch…and everything I’d gleaned from that conversation.

Namely, who the hell was Jake? Had you slept with him in England over the summer? And why the fuck had I never heard about him?

For the next couple of days, I wandered around the house, listless and resigned, waiting for my dad to tell me it was time. Time to pack my bags and head to Arizona.

While you were at school one day, I headed downstairs for a snack. But when I heard my dad’s voice carrying through the house, coming from the direction of the kitchen, I stopped in the hallway to listen.

I know. I know. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped. Again.