“You have friends?” Mattie asks with ironic surprise. I tune into the sisters’ conversation, all thought of Mary Catherine Turner evaporating.
My phone vibrates again.
Millie: How could you even think that???
At the same time I read this, Millietsks.“Of course, I have friends. Don’t tease.”
Mattie huffs. “You never spend any time with them.”
Me: Sorry, but it wouldn’t be the first time.
I look over after I hear theping.Millie glances up from her screen and our eyes meet. Her brows knit before she looks down.
“Well, I’m busy,” Millie defends, typing. “My friends understand that.”
Millie: That’s terrible. I’m sorry.
“You should make time for them,” Mattie says. “You’d be happier.”
I bury a smirk. I really like this kid.
Me: So, what’s wrong with Mattie liking Alex?
“I’m happy,” Millie says. I know she’s read my text when she makes an exasperated sound.
“You don’t sound happy.” Mattie observes.
Me: She’s right.
It’s everything I can do not to grin like a fool right now.
Millie: Mattie’s too young to be thinking about boys.
I arch my brow over Mattie’s head.Seriously?Millie looks at me and scowls.
“You don’t look happy, either.” Mattie says. Then she gasps. “Wait. You’re not texting Carter, are you?”
My spine goes rigid.
“Of course not!”
Me: Who’s Carter?
“Good,” Mattie mutters.
Millie ignores my question, but, from what I can see, her shoulders have tensed.
In the weeks that I’ve been working at the Delacroix’s, the only other adults I’ve seen at the house have been Mrs. Chen, Mattie’s piano teacher, or parents dropping off or picking up the kids or their friends. Nobody coming to visit Millie, and definitely no Carter.
“Anyway, you should go out with your friend. Who is it, by the way?” Mattie asks, casually. “Someone at w—GO! GO! GO! ALEJANDRO!”Mattie’s on her feet, cheering with everything she’s got, and I focus on the soccer game just in time to see my brother nail a kick right past the Rams’ goalie.
I’m up—along with everyone else in the stands—clapping, cheering, calling his name. At the same time, it’s like the clapping and cheering is someone else’s, and my complete focus is Millie’s. I’m so aware of her. The tension in her body. Her distraction. The way she’s cheering too, but really just going through the motions. Like I am.
“Oh my God. He’s amazing,” Mattie gushes, still standing, still clapping, her pretty face flushed. Alex is slapping a few of his teammates’ hands when he looks up into the stands for me. I pump a fist, but his eyes slide right off me onto the fourteen-year-old vision to my left. He waves at her.
Mattie waves back, squealing as she does.
We sit, and I take up my phone again.
