“What about your parents? Who’s side are they on?”

I shift uncomfortably on the couch. “They claim to be Team Both Daughters, which I’m sure is code for Team Mandy But Can’t Tell Cora. I’ve only seen them once over the last few weeks and it was an awkward dinner without much conversation.”

“You’ve always thought your parents loved Mandy more than you, but I’ve never gotten that impression and I’ve known you a hell of a long time. They probably are on both of your sides.”

I try to squash the bitterness that tickles me. “Mandy can do no wrong in their eyes. She was the perfect prom queen with the perfect high school sweetheart, and I’ve always been the stubborn, nerdy kid who refuses to conform. Mandy always got the lavish birthday parties and the over-the-top praise: ‘Congratulations! Mandy learned to tie her shoes even though she’s nine. Oh, my God! Mandy got a B minus on her final exam. Wow! Mandy got her driver’s permit and only crashed once, and it was just a little crash’.” I pause to catch my breath, my resentment bubbling to the surface. “All I ever got was a pat on the back. Now, I’m the stain on the family—the daughter who gets kidnapped by a psychopath, the daughter who sleeps with her sister’s ex, and the daughter who overdoses on sleeping pills.”

Lily cowers away, holding up her hands. “Touched a nerve. Got it.”

“Sorry.” I cringe at my oversharing rant. “It’s the wine talking.”

She holds up the Kleenex box. “That’s why I brought these,” she quips. “And for the record, literally your only flaw has ever been liking N*SYNC over Backstreet Boys. Otherwise, you’re pretty perfect.”

We share a smile, the compliment washing away all of my inner turmoil for the time being. Before I can reply, my phone starts vibrating in my pocket.

It’s a text from Dean.

Dean: I miss you.

Lily yanks my phone away and reads the message, swooning instantly. “Dear God, that’s adorable. Guys only text me when they miss my vagina.”

“I’m sure that’s what he’s implying,” I shrug.

“It’s not.”

Lily starts texting back a reply and I panic, lunging for the phone. “Absolutely not. Give it back.”

She dives from the couch laughing, her thumbs frantically swiping over the keyboard. I chase her around the living room and almost tackle her like a linebacker.

“Okay, okay. Don’t be such a psycho. Here.”

Lily tosses me the phone and I check for damage.

Lily: I need your baloney pony.

“Lily! Damn you!” I curse, glaring at the message, then watching as my friend doubles over with laughter. “I hate you so much.”

A zing comes through and I force myself to open the message.

Dean: Hi Lily

My head is shaking back and forth, embarrassed by her immaturity, as I text my own reply.

Me: Sorry. She’s awful.

Dean: It was kind of funny

Me: No

Ugh. I toss my phone onto the sofa cushions as Lily comes down from her laugh attack. “How are you the worst and the best at the same time?” I ponder, plopping back down with a huff.