“Pail?” I ask carefully.

“JAMIE?” Dawn’s voice roars over the line with a powerful grace.

My throat squeezes shut. “Dawn?”

“You have a fucking sister?!” she booms.

Shit. I hobble to the nearest city bench. There’s a woman sitting on one end of it, but I plop down anyway. “I’m sorry! I haven’t talked about her to anyone, Dawn!”

Dawn is crying on the other end of the line. “I’m supposed to be your best friend, and instead of communicating in any clear way, after abandoning me without notice to run Duck Waterfall alone this week, you sent a stranger into my life to impersonate you.”

She pauses, catching her breath.

“Can you see how messed up that is? There’s a stranger in my house who you led me to believe was you. Do you know how much of a dick that makes you? You couldn’t call me with a heads-up about your asinine plan?”

“Dawn, I—”

“Don’t you dare tell me this was supposed to be funny.”

“No, I—”

“I’m not ready to listen to you right now. I’ve been dishing my life out to a stranger for the last twenty-four hours!”

“She’s not—”

“Nope sorry. I can’t.” The line goes dead.

I pull the phone down in front of my face. “Fuck!”

The woman on the other end of the bench shoots me a dirty look and walks away. I squeeze my eyes shut and punch the call back button.

“Hello?” comes Siri’s quiet voice.

“I told you to let me tell Dawn! You were supposed to dial me and hand her the freaking phone.”

“Sorry, Jamie—”

“Can you put Dawn back on? Are you still with her?”

“She…” There’s a pause. “She doesn’t want to talk to you right now. I’m sorry … this is awkward.”

Dawn will always talk to me. We don’t not talk to each other. She’s the only person I know will always have my back. She’s the only person who will call me out for being an ass and work through it on the spot instead of cutting me out—

I hang up as nausea roils through me. I put a hand over my mouth.

No! This isn’t a thing I do now. Please no— I heave forward and toss my lunch all over Siri’s freakishly white sneakers.

48. Angst and Empathy

SIRI

September 4, Friday Afternoon

California

Dawn and I have been sitting on her couch in silence for the last ten minutes.

“I’m really, really sorry for misleading you,” I finally say. “I feel absolutely terrible.”

Dawn slumps forward. “This is all so weird. I don’t know how I’m supposed to react. I feel so stupid.”

I shake my head adamantly. “You’re not stupid. Remember how you aced that anatomy test and also went on four dates this week?”

She snorts.