“I didn’t cheat,” I say, for what might be the hundredth time, though I wonder why I feel the need to make this excuse to him. It wouldn’t matter to him one way or the other. I bet he’s not even curious. One added cruelty of addiction—it turns you into a narcissist. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah right,” Hudson says, and then, “Wait, are you eighteen yet?”

“No.” I know what he’s driving at. If I were, and the feds decided I knew about everything, I could be charged as an adult. That was one of the very first questions Kenny asked me when we sat down to talk: Are you eighteen?

“Lucky bitch,” he says, and closes his eyes. His words cut, but I shake them off. Hudson can’t hurt me. Not when he’s too busy hurting himself.

We wait a minute. Wait some more. Isla pokes him to confirm that he’s passed out. She puts her hand on his chest to make sure he’s still breathing. You never know with Hudson.

She reaches into his pocket and takes his phone.

I stare at her, shocked.

“What? This way he can’t sell a story to the tabloids,” Isla says. “Or at least this will make it harder.”

“Did you really do a science project on fish?” I ask.

“Of course not. The fair isn’t until the spring. And anyhow, you can’t experiment with hormones like that. It would be animal cruelty.”

“I love you,” I say, feeling suddenly thankful for my sister. If things had been the other way around, if she had ruined my life, I wouldn’t be nearly as generous about trying to help sort it all out. I throw my arms around her and kiss her cheek.

“Stop being weird,” she says.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Then

The SAT results are posted Friday morning, two weeks after I take the test. I want to check them alone, but of course, as with everything college admissions related, this has ballooned into a family affair. Thankfully, Isla had jazz band practice before school, so she’s not here to witness my final mortification.

“Let’s do this,” my mom says, all pumped up, clapping to release her nervous energy. She’s wearing her workout clothes—Lululemon yoga pants and a sports bra, the same outfit from her “Celebrities: They’re Just Like Us” photo in Us Weekly. Even though she’s almost fifty, she doesn’t require a shirt.