“Six four.” I clasp her elbow and pull her out of harm’s way, just as a herd of rambunctious elementary school kids bolts past us.

“Whoa.” She glances over her shoulder. “Who knew it was field-trip day?”

“Somehow I guessed, based on the many yellow buses outside.”

Bea yanks her elbow out of my grip. “I don’t want to do this any more than you, but this is the price of revenge. Why are you so goddamn cranky today?”

Glancing around, I spot a small alcove with a bench by the window. Tucked away from shrieking children and cloying hot air perfumed with flowers, it looks calm and quiet. “Follow me, please.”

Grumbling, Bea trails me, arms folded across her chest. When we’re in our alcove, I sit on the bench. Bea doesn’t join me. “I’m being terrible,” I admit.

“Yep.”

“I’m stressed. And when I’m stressed, I get anxious and cranky, and I don’t want to be in noisy, crowded, hot spaces like this.”

Bea’s arms fall to her sides. “I didn’t know, Jamie. You could have told me.”

“I should have. I didn’t think it was going to bother me so much.” Sighing, I shut my eyes and drop my head against the wall. “It’s my father’s sixty-fifth birthday party two weekends from now. My mother keeps calling me and asking me if I’m coming.”

“And . . .”

Slowly, I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. “I caved and said yes.”

“Is this bad?” she asks.

“My family dynamic is . . . unpleasant.”

“Okay, then. Um—” She scratches behind her ear, shifting on her feet. “Would it help if I came?”

I meet her gaze, blinking in disbelief. “What?”

She shrugs. “It’s a birthday party for your dad. I’m your girlfriend—I mean, I’m supposed to be. It would look weird if I didn’t go, right? Plus, very Instagrammable.”

I stare at her, turning over the idea in my head. Colorful, honest Bea in the stuffy, cold halls of my childhood home. She’d be miserable. “That’s nice of you, but not necessary.”

“Oh, come on, Jamie. How bad can they be?”

“Bad, Beatrice. Very bad. Arthur and Aline. My brothers except Sam. You’d despise them. They’re the worst parts of me.”

“Wow.” She lowers herself next to me on the bench, patting my hand. “You’re a little hard on yourself, aren’t you?”

“It’s the truth.”

“Let me come. It’s no big. I’m sure I can hold my own with them.” She knocks shoulders with me. “Look at you. I don’t mind you too much.”

A wry smile tugs at my mouth. “I don’t mind you too much, either.”

“Great. It’s a deal. I’ll come.”

“No, Bea. I don’t want you to meet them.”

“Let’s solve this like adults.” Standing, she grips my hand, tugging me upright.