“That’s great, son,” Dad says in the background. It’s adorably frustrating that they haven’t realized they can simply put me on speakerphone. My sister might be total trash right now, but at least I have the best parents.

“Wait,” I say. “Did y’all know about Clem going to Georgia?” They must have. “Was I the only one in the dark?”

Mom sighs. “We told her that she had to tell you, and y’all know we don’t like getting in between the two of you. But she should have told you instead of letting you find out . . . however you found out.”

There’s not much I can say to that. Mom has always frustratingly played Switzerland anytime Clem and I have had a standoff, only getting involved when someone’s life was in actual danger.

“Well, what am I supposed to do next year?”

“Stick with your plan, baby,” she says simply. “Go to Austin. I’ll visit on the weekends!”

“That wasn’t my plan. It was our plan.”

“Well, then we’ll make a new plan.” She clicks her tongue a few times, before really dropping a truth bomb. “Baby, you both knew there would come a time when you’d take separate paths. There’s no shame in taking your time while you find yours. Your father and I are in no hurry to shoo you out of the house. We’ll figure it out.”

“I’m going to Grammy’s,” I announce, not ready to confront the idea of living at home next fall without my sister. I’m going to Austin. That was the plan.

“Okay,” she says after a long moment.

“Help her install that video doorbell, would you?” Dad asks, having taken the phone back.

“Sure.” Though we all know that’s more up Clem’s alley than mine.

“It’ll all shake out,” he says.

We say our goodbyes and I love yous.

I shoot off a text to Grammy.

Fire up your commiserating engines. I’m coming over. It’s been a rough day and it’s not even 9 a.m. yet.

Revving it up now, she responds. Putting a pot of coffee on too.

Nine

When I get to Grammy’s, she’s on the porch waiting with two cups of coffee—black for her and black with sugar for me. Grammy says that anyone who drinks their coffee black probably likes it just a little bit when life stings.

And I guess that’s true in a way, because as I sit there on her porch, sipping coffee while Cleo is wrist deep in her flower beds, I can’t help but wonder what everyone at school is saying about me right now. Maybe Clem is in a death match for my honor, or perhaps Kyle is having an existential crisis about accidentally sharing the video and causing my mass humiliation.

Huh. That sounds nice, actually.