Halfway back through the main room, Rae saw Kimmy. Rae startled, her eyes flashed, the mug teetered, a few drops spattered on her bare foot.

Kimmy took a few steps toward her sister and Rae backed away.

Kimmy whispered, “What are you doing?” “Nothing,” Rae hissed. “I just got up for a cup of juice. What are you doing?”

Kimmy wanted to tell, but a loyal instinct stopped her—she wouldn’t tell anybody about Alex’s period except Alex’s mom. Not even Rae. It wasn’t anybody else’s business.

Kimmy said, “I came up for juice too.” She took another step forward and looked down into Rae’s mug. The contents were not orange or purple—the colors of the juices in the house—but a pale yellow, like pee. Kimmy leaned toward the mug to sniff it, and Rae moved farther back.

“That doesn’t look like juice,” Kimmy said, her nose close to the mug.

Rae rolled her eyes so far they were all white. When her irises returned, they fixed sharply on her sister. “Get out of my way, Kimmy,” she said, moving to pass her.

Kimmy moved directly into Rae’s path, looked down into the mug once again, and whispered, “Is that wine?”

Rae’s pretty, angular jaw went tight and square as she ground her back molars together. Her nostrils flared. “What are you doing with my binoculars?”

Kimmy had forgotten she was wearing them. “Me and Alex were just going to play with them,” she said dismissively. “Rae . . . is that wine in that cup?” Kimmy felt her heartbeat whirring faster and faster. Blood flooding her skull. “You have to tell me if that’s wine,” Kimmy said, “or I’m going to tell Mom on you.”

Rae exhaled a damp, sour cloud. “You should really learn to mind your own business, you little . . .” Rae hesitated, crafting the perfect insult. “You sneaky little snake,” she said, curling a finger around the strap of the binoculars, then letting go so they bounced back hard against Kimmy’s belly.

Kimmy recoiled.

A mean snarl crossed Rae’s lips. She could see that this was the only course of action. Insulting her little sister’s integrity would be the only way to make her submit, the only way to guarantee that Kimmy wouldn’t tattle.

“I was going to forgive you for making up that thing with me peeing in the pool. And this afternoon, when you did that thing with the jellyfish down your swimsuit and told Ryan the story about me trying on Mom’s breast thingies,” Rae said. “I was going to forgive you for those, and I was even going to forgive you for spying on me when I tried them on at home in the first place. For snooping on me.” She paused to put a contemplative finger to her lips. “But this?” she hissed. “Now you’re stealing my binoculars and sneaking around the house following me, waiting for something new, something you can tattle on or something you can use against me in front of somebody else?” Rae’s lips pressed together so tight they went colorless, and she shook her head slowly once again, as though she were both saddened and impressed by her own resolve. “I can’t forgive you for the way you are,” she said matter-of-factly. “I can’t forgive you for being a snake.”