Gianna is in the doorway when we reach the top of the stairs.
Her eyes are red at the rims. She’s in the same clothes as this morning, and her bun is falling out of place. She walks into the apartment, so we follow. Mara closes the door behind her. Lucy’s bedroom door is open, and she’s not here.
“Where is she?” I ask. I don’t want to believe that Gianna would stoop this low.
“I thought she went to you.”
“Well, she didn’t,” I say. “So, where did she go?”
“I don’t know,” she says quietly.
Mara asks, “What happened?”
Gianna looks at her and then at me. Water fills her eyes.
“Did you kick her out?” I ask. My voice is rising more than it should.
She nods.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” I snap. Anger flows through me, filling every nerve-ending. “What the fuck?”
“Don’t start with me, Benson,” Gianna snaps.
“No. We are starting.”
Mara looks mortified.
Gianna seethes, “I told her to move out because of you!”
“Yeah, that much I gathered.”
“But I gave her until the end of the month, and she left.”
“I want to hear you say why you did it.” I glance up at her, and she’s furious when she gazes back at me. It’s the same face she had as a kid when I did something she didn’t like.
She sets the wine glass down that I hadn’t realized she’s been holding this whole time. “Because you fucked her, Benson. Because she lied to me! Does that sound familiar?”
Mara’s eyes widen, looking from Gianna to me. It’s a good thing she’s here because at least I’ll have someone from the outside to determine who’s fucking crazier in this family.
I press my hands together, not really wanting to have this talk right now, but after the shitshow she was this morning, I have to set this straight. Gianna is going in circles, chasing her own damn tail. It’s taken me this much time to realize I’ve been watching her do this over and over again. Right now, I need to save her from herself. We’re not kids anymore.
“G. You are my sister. I love you. I am going to say this, and I want you to hear it.”
She rolls her eyes and drinks her wine.
I continue, “You’re not the only person in this situation who gets to have feelings about this. Lucy gets to have feelings about it. I get to have feelings about it. Lucy did not steal anything from you. I’m not a possession. I’m a person. I make my own decisions. So does she. You don’t get to decide who I am with, and you don’t get to decide who Lucy is with.”
Her death glare is irking me. Her mouth is tight. She’s about to go off on me.
I continue, “Every friend you have made since tenth grade, you have kept at arm’s length from me. Everyone. Becca. Sarah. The girl from your sorority. Mara––” I point at her, and she acts like she has no idea what I’m talking about. “You live with Lucy and never introduced me. You walked right past me with her about seven different times at the rink. I just don’t understand how what happened with Madeline was so terrible that you’re makingme pay for it all these years, and now Lucy, whom you claim to be your best friend, is paying for it.”
“Because I knew this would happen.”
“You don’t knowwhatwould have happened. We could have met at a party. We would have figured each other out as people first. Maybe nothing would have happened. Maybe we would have been friends. Maybe she would’ve decided I wasn’t her type. You didn’t let it run.”
“Madeline—”
“Madeline was so long ago. You’re running a playbook against me. I was seventeen. I apologized to you. I apologized to her. Mom and Dad grounded me for the whole summer. I didn’t go to a party for nine months. I have spent all this time being careful around your friends because of one night in high school when I was a kid. I am twenty-two years old, G. At what point do I get your forgiveness?”
