Mom instantly brightened. “Oh, a party? At Tessa’s house?”
“It’s at Liam’s. It’s his birthday.” I shrugged and leaned back against the counter. I didn’t go to many parties. There had been a few, mostly birthday parties where my mom would stay to help out. Only in the past year had she let me go to someone else’s house unaccompanied, and that was a big deal. She or Dad had to drive me there and pick me up, checking in with the parents to be sure an adult would be there the whole time. “It’s tonight—seems strange to go.”
“Why?” Mom closed the dishwasher and turned to face me. “Because of Sarah?”
I didn’t say anything, just looked down. “What am I supposed to say to people? It’s weird.”
Mom nodded. “I understand. But I bet after about five minutes of asking you questions, everyone will drop it and move on. You should go, sweetie.” She smiled. “You’re back to school Monday anyhow—it might be a good thing to just see everyone and get it over with, right? Plus, you just had your hair done and it looks so good. Don’t you want to show it off?”
I couldn’t believe that Mom was pushing me to go to a party, practically shoving me. Her sudden desperation for a normal life for not only me but for all of us made me feel a little sorry for her. If I went to the party, it would be for her, not even because I wanted to.
“What about Sarah?”
“She’s exhausted, I’m sure—both physically and emotionally. That was a lot today.” Mom pulled a frozen lasagna from the fridge and unwrapped it, preheating the oven. “Go on, tell Tessa you can go. Really, Nico, I think you should.”
As I went upstairs with my phone in my hand, I realized that maybe she wanted me to go out for another reason—to have some time alone with Sarah. I hadn’t considered that. Since Sarah had gotten back, we’d done everything together. Even when Dad wasn’t around, I was.
I walked by Sarah’s door and noticed that the light was off, even though it was starting to grow dark outside. Maybe she was asleep. I stood outside the door for a moment, listening, but heard nothing.
In my own room, I turned on all the lights and slipped my phone into the speaker, playing a new song Tessa had recommended. I dumped the shopping bag from the mall onto my bed and looked over the stuff I’d picked out—nothing that special: a new pair of skinny jeans in a soft gray that Sarah had proclaimed “awesome” and a simple white T-shirt in a slouchy boyfriend fit. “You can wear a dark bra under, with straps showing,” Sarah had offered. It wasn’t exactly my style.
I slid off my top and put on the new white shirt, letting the shoulder fall to one side, showing the thin strap of my pink bra. Sarah was right, it looked kind of good. I pulled on the new jeans and added a silver belt. I had only one long necklace—a gift from Tessa for my last birthday, a silver chain with a set of white angel wings dangling from it. I put it around my neck and let it fall long over the soft shirt.
I picked up my phone and texted Tessa back: When can you pick me up?
I ate dinner with Mom and Dad, lasagna and a quick salad Mom threw together. Sarah’s room was still dark and Mom said not to bother her, to let her sleep if she wanted to. “I think it took a lot out of her, seeing those two,” she said, sipping her second glass of wine.
“Maybe she needs some new friends,” Dad proclaimed.
“I’d say so,” Mom agreed. “Paula—that girl has some problems, serious issues still with Sarah. It’s so unhealthy and immature. I mean, considering . . .”
I pushed the food around on my plate, not willing to pile insults onto Paula. They didn’t understand, fully, what she had been through with Sarah. How she had been treated. Their complicated history. How strange it must be for her to now be back. I could relate. It didn’t excuse Paula’s behavior, but it did explain it.
Mom went on: “As if no time had passed, as if Sarah hasn’t been through absolute hell. I mean, can you imagine, asking her to go running tomorrow morning? You should have seen Sarah’s face.”
It was comical, the idea that this thin, anemic version of Sarah would leap from bed tomorrow wanting to run to the track with Paula just like they used to. I thought, for a moment, when Paula suggested the idea of running at the track that Sarah would burst out laughing. But she seemed to consider it carefully, saying instead, shyly, I’ll think about it.
A car horn sounded from the driveway and we all startled. “That’s Tessa.” I grabbed my bag and a sweater and headed to the door. “I won’t be super late or anything.”
Both of their faces turned to me, fragile smiles and eager eyes. “Just have fun, kiddo,” Dad said, sounding like a father on a sitcom.