My heart aches for her. No little kid should have to go through that. And it’s clear Josie tried her best to take care of her younger sister, absorbing their mom’s dysfunction so Georgia could have a more carefree childhood.

I open the box of donut holes and pop one in my mouth. It doesn’t feel right going back to Josie’s now—she chose the person she trusts enough to open up to. She has my number; she could have called or texted the actual me.

Instead, she’s opening up to this nameless, faceless guy online.

It’s a strangely painful experience, being jealous of yourself.

BookshopGirl: Anyway, she’s done it again. Picked a real gem this time—the guy left her stranded in Mexico.

RJ.Reads: Oh no! Is she okay?

No wonder Josie was upset.

BookshopGirl: That’s debatable.

BookshopGirl: I’m sure she’ll be fine. My sister is on her way there now, which makes me irrationally angry. Not at her, but at my mom.

RJ.Reads: Doesn’t sound that irrational to me. Parents are supposed to protect their kids, not the other way around.

BookshopGirl: YES! Exactly.

RJ.Reads: Have you talked to Georgia about it?

BookshopGirl: Did I tell you my sister’s name?

Shit.

Sure, it would be a relief to end this charade, to be fully honest about who I am and how I feel about her—but I don’t want her to accidentally find out when she’s overwhelmed and stressed.

I’m trying to figure out how to respond when another reply from her arrives.

BookshopGirl: Anyway, I didn’t get to talk to her before she took off. But I’m hoping she’ll be on board with my plan.

Despite how awful I’m feeling—for myself and for Josie—I smile, popping another Munchkin in my mouth. Of course she has a plan.

RJ.Reads: What’s your plan?

BookshopGirl: For Georgia to turn back around and bring Mom home. And delete every dating app on Mom’s phone. Maybe put her in a nunnery. Think a convent would take a crazy Jewish lady?

RJ.Reads: In real life, I have no idea. But if that was the plot of a novel, I’d read it.

BookshopGirl: Same. We could buddy read it.

RJ.Reads: I’d love that.

I stare at the screen, waiting for Josie to say that she’s changed her mind about meeting in person, that she wants to read a book together together, sitting side by side or across a booth from each other, the way we did the other night.

Maybe that’s exactly what she’s thinking of. Of me—Ryan.