accusingly.
“Excuse me?”
“I tried to call you when I first got to the station.”
“I was down in the shop.”
“Not on a date?”
Sharp eyes meet mine. “You don’t get to ask me about that.”
“You think I want to? Because I don’t. I’m just saying that you implied you’d cool it with the random hookups.”
“Hey! My love life is none of your business,” she says, slashing her hand through the air. “I’m allowed to have one, you know. I’m not a nun, and when have you ever once seen me on a date? Never. Not once. Because I may fail at motherhood sometimes, but I don’t mix home and dating. I make sure it never touches you.”
“Oh yeah? You really wanna know why all this happened, huh?” I ask her, lashing out in frustration. “Do you? All this happened because Evie’s ex called you ‘the Whore of Babylon.’ And he said I post nudes on my subscription service online because apparently, I follow in your footsteps from when you used to model for Henry. And all day long at school, people are talking about me and you, and no matter how many times I tell them to keep their mouths shut, it doesn’t matter, because how can I stop air leaking out of a balloon if you keep poking holes in it!”
I’ve shocked her. I can see it all over her face. Hurt her too. And the satisfaction that comes with that win lasts for all of one millisecond, because the thing about being this close to someone is that when you hurt them, you hurt yourself. And now I regret saying it.
“Don’t you dare blame me for your mistakes!” she snaps, riled and aggrieved. “I’m not the one who got hauled off to jail with our delinquent neighbor for throwing a damn rock at a department store window!” Her face’s long and normally graceful planes are now sharp with anger, her freckles burnished by the streetlamps that circle the police station. “I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life, but I damn well have never been taken into police custody. Your mistake. You own it, not me. What do I always say, Josie? If you’re going to break the rules, do it the right way. Now, look me in the eyes and tell me there was anything right about destroying someone’s property.”
I want to fight her. Fight anyone. I want things to make sense again. I want to take it all back, rewind time and start over. But none of that is going to happen, is it? “You’re right. I’m sorry for everything,” I finally tell her, defeated. “For being such a disappointment.”
After a long, strained moment, anger dissipates, and silence fills the space between us. Then she gently bumps my arm with her elbow and says in a softer voice, “Hey. I’m disappointed in your choice of company, not with you.”
Eyes on my lap, I fiddle with the closure on the glove compartment, opening and closing it, over and over. “He’s the same Lucky he always was, you know.” The kind of boy who would lie to protect me, even when I didn’t deserve it.
“He’s a vandal, Josie. That window was huge and will be expensive to replace. Could be a felony charge. He’s likely going to have a criminal record for this.”
He is?
A record that should be mine.
I think I’m going to pass out.
“Josie? Are you okay?” She reaches over my lap and quickly rolls down the window, letting in a burst of cool air. “Breathe. Slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth,” she says, lightly stroking the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist with her thumb. “There you go. It’s okay. You weren’t drinking tonight, were you?”
I shake my head once. “I’m just … tired.”
“It was a stressful night.” She takes my temperature with the back of her hand on my forehead, my neck. Brushes hair away from my temples. “I’m sorry that moving back here has been … more difficult than our usual relocation. And I’m sorry I didn’t answer the phone when you needed me.”
Sorry I committed a felony and am letting someone else take the fall for me, I think. But I don’t say it out loud, because I’m a coward and an awful person.
“We’ll talk about it later. Let’s just go home right now, okay? Evie will be worried.” She squeezes my shoulder before starting up the Pink Panther. The engine roars to life, shaking the seats and the