hand on her arm. “Calm down a little before you say somethin' stupid.”
Meredith uttered a sound of disgust. “Don't tell her what to do.”
I shook my head, holding out my palm and surrendering. “I'm not. I'm just—”
Willa shook her head, pinching her eyes shut and slashing her hands in the air. “You know what? I'm sorry, but no. You don't get to talk right now. You're the problem here. You're the reason she's never around. You're the reason she doesn't talk to us anymore, and you're the reason she's doing God knows what when she's supposed to be celebrating her parents' anniversary.”
Taking a long drag from the cigarette, I shook my head. “Listen to me—”
“No, you listen to me,” Willa went on, jabbing a finger in my direction. “You—”
“What's going on over here?” Andy's mother asked, coming into the garden that, only ten minutes earlier, I’d thought was so secluded and private.
This was their chance to throw us under the bus. This was their chance to tattle and I fully expected for them to grab at it. But they didn't.
“We caught Vinnie smoking and told him to stop,” Meredith said, voice flat and eyes pinned on me.
Andy's mom saw the lit cigarette pinched between my fingers. “Please put that out,” she commanded, and without a single protest, I did as I was told. She nodded with approval, then said, “There's cake if you guys want it. And Vinnie?”
“Yeah?”
“You have lipstick on your shirt.”
With that, she walked away and I was left clearing my throat and feeling like I was thirteen again. Caught in the middle of a make out session I never should have been in, with an old friend's seventeen-year-old sister. That had been just as embarrassing, and just as wrong, as this. I had known then, just as I had known now, that it was a bad idea. But I had done it anyway. For the thrill of it, I guess. But, back then, I’d had the excuse of foolish immaturity to defend my decision. What the hell could I say for myself now, other than I simply wanted to do something stupid with my girlfriend? And at what cost?
Willa never did finish her thought and we never did have cake. Andy and I quickly said goodbye to her parents and called an Uber, despite her father's insistence that he drive us to the train. I don't think Andy wanted to be in a car alone with him, and if I'm being honest, neither did I. But I felt the rift growing between her and her family, that I knew she'd always been close to, and I wondered how truthful her sister had been. Was I really the cause for the newfound distance between them? Or had it been a long time coming and our relationship was simply the final straw to break the camel's back?
I was teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown the whole ride into Penn, while Andy sat beside me in uncomfortable silence. I wished she'd talk to me. I wished she'd save me from the bullshit in my head. But she didn't. She just kept her eyes down and her lip pinned between her teeth, and I guessed maybe I deserved that.
My brother and sister had both grown up in the same household as me. We'd had the same childhood, the same parents, the same misfortune. Yet, we all had coped in our own way; Jenna had busied herself with boys and an active social life, while Zach and I discovered drugs and alcohol. We'd done it together, as our own little dysfunctional team, and later, we'd gone to rehab. Much like our descent into addiction, we had also begun the journey to recovery by each other's side, and our dysfunctional team became a support system. But then, Zach met Greyson. He had fallen in love and moved away, no longer needing the support I could offer.
He'd gotten out. He'd broken free. And not once had he looked back to see if I was still shackled or if there was any part of me still holding on.
But, I guess that's the way things go, isn't it? You win some, you lose some, and Zach had won. I guess that left me in the position to lose. And that's exactly what I was: a loser. Pops saw it. Andy's family saw it. And there was a part of me that wished she'd see it, too—hell, maybe she already did, and that was the