I know I should tell her she’s perfect just the way she is.
I should tell her it’s beautiful to love whomever she loves. Because it’s true.
I should tell her I’ll back her with our parents if she ever wants to tell them.
But Penny has just betrayed me. “Maybe that’s a good idea,” I say sharply. “But you didn’t have to like Pfeff.”
“There’s no one else here!” cries Penny.
“Then you shouldn’t have been with anyone,” I say. “You should have thought, Carrie watches out for me. Carrie loves me. Carrie always has my back. She’s loyal, that Carrie. She’s a stand-up person. And even though I can throw her over and crush her heart and take her boyfriend, even though I can do it, I’m not going to. Because she’s my sister and I don’t want to hurt her. Because there are some lines you shouldn’t cross. Some things that once you’ve done them, you can never, ever take them back, and I actually value my relationship with my stand-up, loyal sister more than any of the other stupid stuff that’s going on in my head right now. You should have just been a halfway good person, Penny. Why is that so hard? That’s not even a high bar for being a good person. Everyone knows this rule. It’s very basic. Don’t kiss your sister’s boyfriend, because if you do, you’re a goddamned asshole.”
Penny chokes with sobs, not hiding behind her hands like I would, but just letting the tears run down her delightful, delicate face, her mouth curled into a grimace of agony. “I’m sorry,” she says.
It strikes me as a bit theatrical. Penny is performing her agitation. Standing in the moonlight for maximum drama.
“I don’t care that you’re sorry,” I snap. “I care that you did it. I won’t ever forget that you value me so little. Not ever.”
I turn and run down the walkway, leaving her alone.
48.
I SLEEP LATE the next morning. Rosemary doesn’t wake me. I haven’t seen her in some time.
I wonder if she is sulking.
I am sore and headachy. My skin is clammy. I don’t remember going to sleep last night.
When I go into our shared bathroom, Bess is curling her hair—teasing it and spraying on hair spray.
“Go swimming and it’ll all be straight again,” I tell her.
“That doesn’t matter. I’m practicing,” she answers. “So I can be good at it when I get back to North Forest. If I can wash it the night before and then get my routine down to ten minutes in the morning, I’ll be able to—” She breaks off and puts the curling iron down. “Oh, Carrie, about last night.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Not to Bess. Bess is shallow, aspirational, trying to be older than she is all the time. She’ll offer sympathy when what she really wants is gossip.
She clutches my hands. “I told Penny not to talk to Pfeff so much. I pulled her aside, and I was like, Carrie’s going to be mad when she gets here and what are you doing? I think she had too much to drink, though. She wasn’t thinking straight, and you know, he’s very cute. I’m sure she didn’t mean to.”
I free myself, squeeze the toothpaste, and begin to brush my teeth.
“She had like three beers in an hour,” continues Bess. “I counted. And I bet she wishes she never went outside with him and—”
I spit and rinse my mouth out. “She knew what she was doing.”
“It was only kissing,” says Bess. “Not anything more, in case you’re wondering.”
I stop and look at her. “Were you watching?”
“I was using the upstairs bathroom,” says Bess. “And I looked out the window. I couldn’t help but see them on the lawn. And then you came, and—”
“Ugh.” I bang into my room and begin pulling on clothes.
Bess follows me. “I’m trying to say sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to say sorry for. You didn’t do anything,” I snap. “Except spy on people and meddle in their business. But you’re not sorry for that, are you?”
Bess. Our martyr. The virtuous sister. She stands for a moment as if in shock, then stamps her foot like a child. “You’re mean,” she says. “You think you’re the only one who has any feelings, don’t you?”
“What?”
“Carrie got sick, Carrie’s in love, Carrie misses Rosemary, Carrie’s crying in the middle of the school carnival, or the middle of a family party—like you’re the only one who’s sensitive, when really, you’re just the only one who’s a complainer. You know that?”