“So you’re the boyfriend.”
Max, Andy, and I grow rigid as Norah leans against the door frame between our living room and the kitchen. Even though Nathan is several years older than his sister, Norah looks at least a decade older. In their childhood, she shared the same round face as Nathan and me, but time and substance abuse have left her frail and worn. Her skin hangs as loose as her straggled hair. At least she’s had a shower.
“Max. Meet Norah,” I say.
He nods at her. She stares back, her expression dead.
“You have a lot of nerve showing up here.”
Everyone freezes again at the sound of Nathan’s voice. Still holding hands, Max and I turn around. My father sets down his briefcase beside the front door. The muscles in Max’s hand twitch, but he keeps his speech devoid of the emotion I know he feels. “I came to apologize. It was irresponsible for me to take Lola away last night. She was upset, and I wanted to help her. It was the wrong way.”
“Damn straight it was the wrong way.”
“Dad.”
“Nathan,” Andy says quickly. “Let’s talk in the office.”
The wait is unbearable before Nathan removes his glare from Max and follows Andy. The office door shuts. I’m sweating. I let go of Max’s hand and realize my own is shaking. “The worst is over,” he says.
“I’m grounded for a month.”
He pauses. “Shit.”
There’s a rude snort in the kitchen doorway, and I’m about to completely lose it.
“I’m sorry.” Now Max does sound pissed off. “I didn’t realize this conversation was any of your business.”
Norah gives a cruel smile. “You’re right. What would I know about a teenage girl running away and getting into trouble with her boyfriend?”
“I didn’t run away,” I protest as Max says, “You’re out of line.”
She strolls into the kitchen and out of sight. “Am I?” she calls out.
I want to die. “I’m so sorry. For all of this.”
“Don’t apologize.” He’s harsh. “I’m not here for them. I’m here for you.”
The office door bangs open, and Nathan marches straight upstairs to their bedroom without looking at us. Andy gives a tense, fake smile. “Dinner in ten minutes.”
Nathan has changed out of his work clothes. He’s trying, but barely. I didn’t know it was possible to pass a dish of vegetarian lasagna with such hostility. “So. Max. How was the show in L.A.? We didn’t realize you’d be back so soon.”
Could this get any worse?
“It was in Santa Monica, and it went well. We’ve booked two more shows there.”
Yes. It could get worse.
“Do you plan on doing a lot of touring?” Andy asks. I can’t decide if he sounds hopeful or skeptical.
“We’d like to do more. I don’t want to read meters for the rest of my life.”
“So you think this is a valid career choice?” Nathan asks. “You think it’s reasonable to expect success?”
“OH MY GOD,” I say.
Nathan holds up his hands in apology, but he doesn’t say anything. Max stews silently beside me. Norah stares out the window, no doubt longing to be anywhere but here. I scrape the spinach lasagna across my plate without picking it up.
“I only mentioned the show,” Nathan says a minute later, “because it was unfortunate that it meant you had to miss our trip. We went to Muir Woods with—”
“A picnic basket!” I say.
Nathan gives me a smug expression. It was a test. He was testing me, to see if Max knew about the trip with Cricket.
“You didn’t miss anything,” I say. “Besides the food. Of course.”
Max smells the lie, though he doesn’t dare approach it in front of my parents. But I feel the wall build between us.
“Hey, I have an idea,” I say. “Let’s talk about Norah.”
“Lola,” Andy says.
She snaps her head toward me as if coming out of a trance. “What?” And then she blinks. “What are you wearing?”
“Excuse me?”
“What is that? What are you supposed to be?”
I’m in a dress with rainbow tulle poking out from underneath, and my hair is in two long braids that I’ve gelled with glitter. I glare at her. “Me. I’m me.”
Norah frowns her disapproval, and Nathan turns to her. “Enough. Back off.”
“Of course she has the right to complain about my wardrobe.” I gesture to her saggy sweater, the one she’s had forever that’s the color of oatmeal left in the sink. “She’s clearly on the cutting edge of fashion.”
Max smirks.
“O-kaaaay!” Andy jumps up. “Who wants pie?”
“Wait until you see my dress for the winter formal,” I tell Norah. “It’s big and it’s lavish and it’s beautiful, and you’re just going to love it.”
Norah jerks her face back toward the window. Like she has any right to feel hurt after attacking me. Max stiffens again, and Nathan can’t resist pouncing upon it. “What will you wear to the dance, Max?”
“He’ll wear a tux,” I snap. “I wouldn’t make him wear a matching costume.”