bad,” I say reluctantly. “Michael’s not married. And you didn’t force him to cheat on his girlfriend. He did that all by himself.”
“He’s been with Melanie since his junior year of college. He was planning to ask her to marry him. I knew that, actually.” She takes a deep breath. “I didn’t even really care, honestly. I was thinking about myself, and how if I could get Michael to like me, not just this one time hooking up but really like me, like we were falling in love or something, then it would somehow be worth it.” Her nose wrinkles, like she hates her own bad smell. “I was so stupid. I could see that Michael did love Melanie—he was just freaking out because he’s getting to that time in your life when all the big decisions happen, the ones you have to live with. It was, like, cold feet.”
“You’re not going to get me to feel sorry for Michael. And you’re far from stupid, Afton. You just got your heart broken and did some stupid, stupid . . . really stupid things,” I say.
She smiles at the three stupids, her eyes finally meeting mine. The broken pipe that has busted loose inside her slows to a trickle.
“I know I don’t act like it,” she says. “But I’m jealous of you, Ada. You’re always so good, so goddamned perfect at everything, with your sketchbook and your to-do lists and your plans. You’ve always got things figured out.”
I give a disbelieving laugh. “What.”
“Really. You do.”
“I don’t.”
“You do. Tell me the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”
“Um, have you forgotten that less than an hour ago I accused our mother of having an affair with her business partner, in front of a bunch of her colleagues, and also in front of our little sister and our dad?”
“But that was my fault.”
I snort. “Okay, let’s go with that when they sit me down to talk to me about it.”
“If I’d just fessed up as soon as you told me, it wouldn’t have happened. It was my stupidity, rubbing off on you.”
I bite my lip, then release it. “Fine. How about this: I asked Nick Kelly to have sex with me. I thought, he’s cute, and he’s funny, and he knows me so it will be safer than it would be with a stranger, and I thought, if I have sex with him, maybe I’ll feel something else besides heartbroken.”
She doesn’t look surprised. Because of course she already knows this.
“Oh, so you did read that in my sketchbook,” I confirm.
She cringes. Nods. “Sorry. To be fair, I wasn’t expecting to find anything like that. But did it happen last night? Did you two . . .”
“No. I freaked out at the last minute. I tried to. But no. It didn’t happen.”
“Wow. That sounds . . .”
“Humiliating? Yes. But it actually turned out all right. Afterward we crashed somebody’s wedding, and we danced and talked and looked at the stars, and I did feel something else, for a little while, at least.” I sigh. “And then this morning happened.”
“Yeah, well, we were blindsided by Pop.”
“He really could have warned us. Of course, I basically told him to do something exactly like that, the last time I spoke to him.”
Suddenly Afton laughs, a choked-up, husky laugh—a kind of sound I’ve never heard come out of her before. She puts her hand over her mouth to try to hold it in, but it just keeps tumbling out, making the board underneath us tremble.
“I bet he never tries to surprise us again,” she titters.
I laugh, too. “Let’s hope not.”
“And Marjorie was just sitting there like she was at the movies having popcorn,” Afton says, wiping what I hope are laugh tears from her eyes. “Did you hear her? No way, Jerry. I want to see how this turns out.”
We laugh and laugh, until we’re tired and our sides hurt. I sigh and put my hand on Afton’s shoulder.
“I can’t say I forgive you,” I say.
“I can’t say I blame you.”
“I want to forgive you, though.”
“Okay.”
I nod solemnly. “I’ll probably only hold this over your head for another twenty or twenty-five years, tops.”
“That seems fair.”
“The thing is, I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it. Also, we’re sisters, and that, unfortunately, is an unbreakable bond. Like forever.” I hold out my pinkie to her.
“Sisters forever,” she whispers, shaking my pinkie with hers.
We hug then, because of course it is a requirement of sisterhood, but it turns out