Steve’s head shot up with a split-second expression of extreme distress, but it immediately disappeared. He nodded assent.
“Yup,” he said. “And we can eat the leftovers all week, babe, so don’t sweat it.”
Sheila put her hand on his arm and rested her head on his shoulder.
“Ewww, stop,” said Megan.
The doorbell rang, and Megan jumped up and ran toward the living room, her long hair—now dyed brown—streaming behind her. “Comiiiiiing!”
Megan opened the door and found Scarlett and Gideon standing on the stoop, looking incredibly concerned.
“Hey, can we help you with something?” she asked quizzically.
“We’ve been looking all over for you, Ashbot!” said Scarlett. Megan winced.
“That’s not my name anymore. It’s Megan.” She shifted uncomfortably. “And my family and I are kind of in the middle of having dinner, so . . .”
“You don’t want to do this,” Gideon pleaded. “They don’t really want you—you’re just a replacement. You’re gonna have to live in somebody else’s shadow.”
Megan shook her head, determined.
“I don’t care what the reason is. They’re nice to me. They act like I’m their actual daughter. They’re good people, and they were good parents, and what happened to them was unfair. It’s not like when I was a rental, when everybody who hired me was some loser who had no friends because they were making the choice to be a shitty person, even though they wouldn’t admit it.”
Gideon looked at her for a long time, stunned at the level of critical thinking she was able to do. He couldn’t deny it; she did seem happier.
“Are you sure?” he whispered.
Megan nodded. Gideon paused, not knowing what to do next. So he just hugged her. “Okay,” he mumbled into her hair.
She nodded a farewell to Scarlett and went back inside the warm, bright house where her parents were waiting. She shut the door.
Scarlett and Gideon began to walk back to his car.
“What do we do now?” he asked.
They smiled at each other.
“I guess . . . whatever we want.”
Chapter 26
IMAGINARY DETECTIVES IS NO LYCANTHROPE HIGH, BUT IT’S pretty damn good: Two rogue P.I.s team up to solve crimes that the real cops don’t care enough about. Davis is a tall, handsome family man who always follows the rules, and Nickerson is an insanely hot brooding guy who drinks too much, and they’re “partners,” like in the detective way but also the “as overtly in love as possible on homophobic network television” way. They’re so different, but they silently understand each other. My Tumblr is full of gifs of them right now.
When I’m not gushing with Loup about them, I’m hanging out IRL with the Girl Geniuses. I used to think they were just mouth breathers, but Leslie is actually kind of awesome and shockingly vulgar once you get to know her better, and Mike is surprisingly sweet and has random hidden hobbies like building crazy things out of Legos and designing kites. I get why Avery likes him—he’s a really nice guy.
But mostly I sit in Ruth’s garden. Sometimes I work on it, even though real estate agents will probably be by to show the house any day now. It’s looking good. Gardening is a profession, right? Maybe I’ll get into that. I like the harmlessness of it, spending your days growing flowers.
As I yank some weeds out of the ground, I suddenly hear a baa. Not a distant baa. One that almost literally is in my ear.
“Hey.”
Gideon is standing at the perimeter of the garden, holding a leash. He looks tentative, which is a strange expression to see on a guy who just walked a sheep down the side of a highway. The sheep’s expression is vacant, and I think it’s drooling.
“Is that . . . what the fuck, is that a sheep?”
Even as I say it, I know full well that I am staring at a sheep. On a leash.
“Yeah, get it?” he asks, looking absurdly pleased with himself. “You called me a sheep.”
“Where did you even get it?”
“Around.”
“Oh! Around.” That clears everything up.
“Anyway, so, this is an apology. For being . . . you know.”
I take a deep breath. “Yeah, look, I—”
The sheep stares dumbly at me. I start laughing.
“I don’t mean to look a gift sheep in the mouth, but, um . . . why did you think this was a good plan? Four legs good, two legs bad?”
He looks surprised. “You don’t remember? William. The prom episode.”
“Oh. Yeah, of course.”
Now you have all of me. It was much more romantic on TV.
BAA, the sheep screams. We both wince, and I shake my head.
“I feel like I can’t have a serious conversation right now,” I say. “I’m just going to pretend like it’s not there. Okay. Ready, set . . .” I turn around and face the door, then summon up all my courage. “Gideon?”
“Yeah?”