Elmo segment was on now, and Ruby was transfixed.
“Amy told me about the game,” Char said, and Tate’s whole body went stiff. Char didn’t notice. “It’s not even really Never Have I Ever, except maybe on steroids.”
Tate shook her head. “It isn’t? I haven’t played that game.”
“Sure you have,” Char said. “Everyone who’s ever been to a high-school party has. Roux’s game is similar, I suppose, because you do learn the worst things everyone has done. You say, ‘Never have I ever cheated on a test’ or ‘Never have I ever frenched a boy,’ and then everyone who has frenched a boy has to drink.” Tate was nodding now, and Char asked, “So who won?”
“Oh, Amy didn’t tell you?” Tate said, shooting me another drowning glance.
“Hadn’t gotten to it,” I said.
“Most of it’s not worth repeating,” Tate said, overbright. She laughed, but to my ears it came out sick and sad. There was an awkward pause, and Tate could not meet Charlotte’s expectant gaze. Finally Tate said, “Panda won, really.”
Surely Tate wasn’t going to tell Panda’s toothbrush story? Panda was her best friend, and she must be dying of embarrassment this morning. But Tate launched right into it. I busied myself cutting up blondies while Tate explained “sex camel” to Char and dropped her voice to a salacious whisper for the punch line. Char laughed, her cheeks flaming pink, but the easy way Tate sold out her friend made me sick to my stomach.
“Oh, my God,” Char said. “Amy! You were holding out on me!”
“I shouldn’t have told it either,” Tate said.
“No. You shouldn’t have,” I said, but Tate ignored my tone.
“Panda would kill me, and really, we shouldn’t judge. I mean, has anyone in this kitchen been an angel? I could have confessed all kinds of stupid things, meaningless in the big picture, but that I’d find so embarrassing,” Tate said, and I could feel her gaze boring holes in my skin. “Maybe we should all agree to pretend it never happened.”
“Never have I ever played a naughty game?” Char said, smiling.
Tate didn’t seem to get it, so Char reached for Tate’s untouched coffee and took the tiniest sip.
Then Tate looked confused, “Wait, but—drinking means you did do the thing. You didn’t play. You left before the game last night.”
“Well, sure, but I’ve played naughty games. Truth or Dare and stuff,” Char said. “Once? In middle school I even played Spin the Bottle.” She took another tiny sip.
“Tramp!” I said, trying to lighten Tate’s reaction.
“Mm. I miss coffee almost more than I miss wine,” Char said, putting a protective hand low on her belly.
But now Tate wouldn’t let it go.
“If Amy and I don’t drink, can we all agree that we never played Roux’s stupid game?” she asked, staring hard at me, weighting the moment with a ridiculous amount of meaning. Did she really think that if I passed on a sip of coffee, I was entering a pact with her? She was asking me to pretend I’d never heard her damn confession.
It was possible to consign her sin to silence. I knew it better than anyone. Pass the cup, seal my lips, never mention it again. Let it sink. Let time roll over it, pushing it ever deeper. We stared at each other, so intense about it that Char’s eyebrows went up.
“It’s just a joke,” I said, firm. I took the coffee mug and lifted it in a toast at Char. I sipped from it, hearing Tate’s angry little exhale as I did so. I put the mug in the sink and changed the subject. “What brings you by this morning, Tate?”
“Oh, right. Can you print me out one of those neighborhood directories?” Tate asked, and I knew what she was going to say next even before she lofted the bakery box at us and added, “I realized last night we’d never taken Roux a welcome gift, and I thought if I went by . . .”
Char laughed out loud. “There’s one on the counter. Amy made these blondies for the same reason. I don’t think she liked that game any better than you did, and as for me . . . well. That woman flat ruined book club. Amy was going to try to pawn her off on the bunco bunch.”
Now Tate’s eyes on me were speculative. “Was she? Great minds.”
I smiled, but inside I was horrified. Tate showing up on my doorstep this morning had read to me like full confession. Now she was belly-crawling to