Chapters (42)
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Prologue
- Part 1: March
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Part 2: April
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Part 3: July
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Epilogue
- Also Available by Laurie Petrou
- Author Biography
I put my arm around her shoulder, and she leans into me. “What is it?” I ask. “Did something happen at the party? Is it me? Did I do something?”
She chuckles and shakes her head, then takes a deep breath. “No. No, Stevie, it’s not about you. Not any of that.” She sits back and looks at me, her eyes welling up. “My mom came out. As in, ‘out of the closet.’” She uses air quotes.
I suck the air through my teeth. “What?”
“Yup.”
“Holy shit.” I look at her, testing the waters, thinking of Rhonda, her short hair and button-downs and wondering if I could have guessed at this, and why I didn’t know, why she didn’t tell us together. I think of how she puts on a smiling face for the world but then retreats to her own spaces. I realize I don’t know anything about anything. “Are you okay? Like, how do you feel?”
She shrugs. “I dunno. Like she’s been keeping a secret. And that makes me mad, and then I feel like I’m not being understanding enough. It fucking sucks, actually.”
“Yeah … I get that.” I’m kind of feeling the same thing, and it’s not even my family. But they might as well be. I feel hurt, too. Part of me wishes Rhonda had told me, and then I realize how stupid that is. They are not actually my family, no matter how many board games we’ve played together. “What’d your dad do?”
“He cried and then laughed because he said he had his suspicions, and it was kind of a relief. Things have been tense lately. Anyway, he told her he wants her to be happy, but I dunno if he means it. I mean, I think he’s in shock. They opened a bottle of wine they’d been saving and let me have some. Then my dad went out by himself and got wasted. I heard him knocking things over when he came home.”
“Are they splitting up?”
“They’re both staying here for now. But, I mean, it’s not exactly sustainable.”
I give her shoulder a squeeze, then loop my arm through hers, and it feels like when we were little. I have missed that connection, the warmth of her. “That’s hard, babe. No matter what happens.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Things have just been … weird.”