“What are you doing here?”
“I . . . live here?” Lisa stammered.
“I thought you were at Charlene’s.”
Lisa’s heart sank at the note of accusation in Rose’s tone. She’d hoped that Shawn would’ve explained why she needed to go to Charlene’s instead of the fundraiser, but from the hurt in her stepsister’s voice, she could tell he hadn’t. Or at least, not very well. “I was,” she said carefully. “It was a last-minute thing. The whole planning committee bailed, and Char was freaking out, and—”
“So you decided to bail on me instead.” Rose kicked off her shoes and placed them by the door, keeping her eyes downcast.
“I’m sorry, Rosie. I tried to find you after school, but you and Noah had already left, so I asked Shawn to explain.” Lisa frowned, wishing Rose would put herself in her shoes for once. Did she really think that Lisa had just changed her mind on a whim? Lisa wished she had the luxury of acting frivolously and doing whatever she wanted, but she wasn’t that lucky. “I just thought there would be more of you guys at the Food Mart, so you wouldn’t need me as much.”
“Why were you so needed setting up for the stupid bonfire, anyway? Isn’t it just dumping a bunch of firewood in a pile?”
Heat flooded Lisa’s face. Charlene was Rose’s friend, too. Shouldn’t Rose care that the rest of the planning committee had just ditched her without any notice? Rose could have planned her fundraiser for any day, but she’d chosen the day before the bonfire, when she knew Charlene would be up to her ears in preparation. Yet somehow it was Lisa’s fault that she’d gone to help her best friend? “There’s a lot more to it than dumping wood in a pile. You can see it for yourself tomorrow.”
“I’m not going.”
Lisa tossed up her hands. “Why not?”
Rose still wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I just . . . don’t feel like it.” There was a slight tremor in her voice.
Lisa sighed, working to swallow her frustration as she studied Rose’s face. Despite her stepsister’s valiant effort not to make eye contact, her cheeks were obviously flushed, her eyes glossy. Something was up, and it wasn’t just Lisa’s absence from the fundraiser.
“Come here,” Lisa said, pulling out one of the chairs at the kitchen table and patting the seat. It would be easy to stay annoyed with Rose, but that would also mean Rose would stay annoyed with her, a possibility that made Lisa’s stomach ache.
Besides, if there was something bigger on Rose’s mind, something weighing on her that she was reluctant to talk about . . . well, Lisa could relate to that.
Rose flopped into the chair as Lisa spooned leftovers onto a plate and stuck it in the microwave. When the timer went off, she brought it to the table with two forks and set the plate between them. “What’s going on with you?” she asked, scooping up a forkful of creamy noodles and popping them in her mouth. “Why don’t you want to go tomorrow?”
Rose sighed, picking up her own fork to flick peas over to Lisa’s side of the plate. “Everything is just . . . weird right now,” she said, eyes focused on her pea extraction.
“Everything like . . . Noah?” Lisa guessed. Rose had tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal when he started dating Steph that summer, but Lisa had shared a wall with her for too long to be fooled. And in the years before they were sisters, they’d filled countless weekend sleepovers with whispered secrets and giggly games of Truth or Dare. In all that time, Lisa couldn’t remember a time when Noah Hanley wasn’t one of Rose’s biggest Truths. Even if she never told him.
Rose nodded miserably. “Among other things.” She cut Lisa a withering look. “Speaking of which, could you not talk to your boyfriend about my personal life?”
“Why? What happened?”
“He gave me a pep talk. About Noah. Which could not have been more awkward if it had come from my actual dad.”
Lisa couldn’t help but laugh, despite Rose’s mortification. “Okay, I’m sorry, but that’s hilarious.”
“It was not,” Rose insisted, although a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“I swear I didn’t say anything.” The last thing Lisa wanted to talk to Shawn about right now was secret crushes. “He must have figured it out on his own.”
“Oh no,” Rose said, dropping her head into her arms on the table. “Is it that obvious?”
“Nah,” Lisa lied. “But Noah is his best friend, so maybe he’s just been paying extra-close attention.”
“Maybe,” Rose said, sounding unconvinced. She sighed, sticking another bite of casserole in her mouth. A small mountain of peas had accumulated on Lisa’s side of the plate. Lisa scooped up a few, trying not to resent Rose for her simple problems and their simple solutions. Not everyone could wear their feelings so plainly on their sleeves.
“Anyway,” Rose said, chewing, “it’s not just Noah. It’s kind of everything right now. I feel like everyone got a manual for what they’re supposed to be doing with their lives, and I was, I don’t know, absent that day or something.”
Lisa shook her head, carefully spearing peas onto her fork in a neat line. “I don’t think everyone knows what they’re doing,” she said softly.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Rose muttered.
Lisa kept her eyes focused on her fork, sure that if she met her sister’s gaze, Rose would see all the questions Lisa still couldn’t answer. All the parts of herself she didn’t dare show, but couldn’t bear to hide.
This was the double-edged sword of your mother marrying the father of your best friend. Your best friend became your sister. The window you already had into her soul grew from a single pane into twin houses of crystal-clear glass. Perfect for basking in each other’s light.
But impossible when you needed to draw the curtains.
They both looked up at the sound of the front door opening. “Hello? Lees?”
“In here, Char,” Lisa called.
Rose raised an eyebrow. “Charlene is here now?”
“Yeah, we weren’t actually finished with the bonfire prep,” Lisa admitted. “She just dropped me off before running out for some more supplies.” It would’ve made sense to stay at Charlene’s house, since that’s where the bonfire would be, if Charlene’s mother and her never-ending political commentary hadn’t been there, too. Charlene’s parents were good friends and major donors of Diane’s opponent in the upcoming mayoral election, and apparently having Diane’s daughter in her home did nothing to dissuade Moira Derrin from enumerating her many complaints about Diane’s candidacy.
After an hour, Lisa couldn’t take it anymore. She either had to say something or spontaneously combust, neither of which would have worked out in her favor. Charlene’s parents already hated that their daughter’s best friend was Black, and that her mother was running against their beloved Franklin for mayor; all it would take was one instance of Lisa losing control for them to forbid the two of them from seeing each other entirely.
Lisa and Charlene couldn’t risk that. So instead, they’d left.