“You didn’t have to keep it a secret,” she says. “You know your father and I would have been thrilled to know you were dating Sabrina.”

I exhale slowly and rub the back of my neck. “I’m not interested in sharing anything about my love life with my father.”

“Right. Well, I guess he earned that.” She forces a smile. “I talked to Sabrina this morning. She called me, bless her heart. A mother shouldn’t learn her son’s secrets from the media, and she wanted me to hear the truth about your relationship from her.”

The truth. Funny that Sabrina put it that way. I guess it’s good practice. “Not sure what she could have said that hasn’t already been shown to millions of people.”

“I know you don’t want to air more of your personal business, but I’m so glad you two are going public about your relationship.”

“The only thing that matters is how a relationship looks to the world. Isn’t that right, Mom?” She flinches, and I feel like a dick. “That was low. I’m sorry. Dad’s the one who screwed up. I don’t mean to rub the past in your face.” And I don’t want to be involved in something that hurts her. Not again.

Mom hangs her head and exhales slowly, her petite shoulders folding in, as if she’s been walking around carrying the weight of the world and she’s worn out. When she lifts her head, she meets my eyes with a fire in her gaze I’ve never seen before. “You sit there and you judge me for staying with your father, you judge your father for falling for the girl you wanted, but you have no idea what it’s like to be married to the same person for thirty years. Marriage isn’t one long honeymoon. Your father and I do love each other. It’s just different than it used to be. I don’t expect you to understand. But I do expect you to respect me as your mother enough not to question my decision to stay with him.”

“I didn’t say a word,” I say.

“Exactly. You don’t say anything. You avoid me. You avoid your father. You treat Della’s husband like he’s the help. You’re angry at the world.” She takes a breath and softens her voice. “You liked the girl. I understand that. But don’t make her out to be some saint in this. You read the things she wrote to him. You saw the pictures she sent. Any man would have fallen for that. Any man would have lost his way for a minute. Don’t be so angry. She’s not who you think, and your future with her wouldn’t have been this bright and shiny thing you imagine. I’m grateful it worked out this way.”

I ball my fists but don’t reply. Liz is good. She’s so good she hasn’t tried to talk to me, or anyone in my family, since I sent her away.

“Sabrina said you two really started getting close when you were broken up over Liz, and if that’s what it took to get you with someone good, I’m glad.”

Leave it to Sabrina to put all the pieces together into a story even my mom can find romantic. I’m tempted to tell my mom not to start planning our wedding, but I don’t want to risk her asking questions about me and Sabrina that I can’t answer.

“You’ll understand someday,” Mom says. “Someday, you’ll be able to look back and see that this all worked out for the best.”

Chapter 5

Liz

“Definitely a red one,” Cally says, tossing a purple contender to the floor.

“Agreed,” Maggie says. “She looks too fuckable in red to wear anything else.” She flips through the dresses hanging from the shower in her and Asher’s massive master bathroom.

Last night, I called Hanna to tell her a) I would be seeing Sam at a black-tie event tomorrow, and b) he showed up at my apartment. She decided I had to come to New Hope and let them help me get ready for the event.

When I arrived at Maggie’s this morning, Krystal, Hanna, Cally, and Nix all met me at the door, like my own team of personal stylists. I’ve been here for twenty minutes and have learned that the girls have many opinions on what I should be wearing and how I should look. I’ve also learned that the girls all think Sabrina is “the rebound booty call” and that Sam’s not serious about her.

“That one!” Hanna shouts from behind me. She jumps up and down and claps her hands. “Yes, that one!”

Maggie holds up the red halter dress. “This one’s hot. I wore it to the AMAs, and it’s too stupid expensive not to be worn again.”

“I remember,” Hanna says. “It’s perfect for Liz tonight.”

Krystal folds her arms. “How is it that my sisters have such exciting lives they get to sit with their rocker boyfriends at the American Music Awards when the biggest excitement of my week is ordering a pizza?”

Krystal is my oldest sister. There are five of us, and she’s always been an outsider. As twins, of course Hanna and I are BFFs. Then Maggie is only a year younger than us, so we’ve always been close to her too. But then there are Krystal and Abby—the oldest and the youngest—and they always seem to be on the outside. Since Krystal moved back to New Hope from Florida, she’s been spending more time with our growing group. It’s been nice.

“You’re singing my song, girl,” Nix says.

Krystal and Nix high-five, then Krystal turns to me. “I like the dress, but I want to see it on you.”

I don’t bother protesting when the girls work together to dress me. Maggie’s AMA dress is cut low in the back. It’s fitted around my hips and ass and hits mid-thigh, showing off my legs.