“And?” my mother pushes, prodding my arm, and my eyebrows furrow.
“And what?”
“That can't be all, Sax,” she chastises, and I shrug.
“It can.”
“No, it can’t. You're definitely missing some details. We want all of it,” Cami hollers, and I shake my head.
“You’re not having all of it,” I insist, and Aster leaps from the bed, folding her arms over her chest as she narrows her eyes on me.
“Well, I'm going to go and tell her.”
Panic immediately floods my system at the threat.
“Tell her what?”
The devilish grin that spreads across my sister’s face should be warning enough, but she speaks before I can piece the puzzle together. “That you're not hung like a horse.”
“I think she found that out for herself on Monday.”
“What?” The back of my mother’s hand collides against my chest.
Fuck.
I wasn't supposed to say that part.
“Did you?” My mother gasps, and I shake my head, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“It wasn't progress, it was a magical necessity, and I am not talking about this with you right now.”
My mother sighs. “I can talk about the?—”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” I interject, earning another whoosh from my mother’s mouth, but I quickly try to redirect the subject before she gets carried away. “Focusing on last night, she at least looked to us for help when somebody wouldn't back off.”
“Thatdoesfeel like progress,” my mother says with a wide smile.
“That's exactly what I thought. See? There it is. We didn't overstep. There's no situation now. You can all leave.”
“Well, I want it to be known that we are Team Ivy, not Team Brothers, because you guys suck,” Cami adds, and I can’t stop the grin from curling my lips.
“Of course you are.” I roll my eyes, unfazed by her declaration.
“Why are you smiling about it when you should be sad that we're not on your team?” Aster adds, and I shrug.
“Because I like it. She deserves it, this,” I try to explain, waving my hands around. “And I appreciate what you're doing for her.”
“Well, we're not doing it for you,” the twins say in sync, and I nod.
“I know.”
Silence stretches between us for a moment, but the smiles on their faces confirm they’re not nearly as mad as they pretend to be.
“So, what’s next? How can we help now?”
“There is no helping now. We let her be for a minute. She's been through enough. We're not going to push.”
My mother claps her hands with excitement. “Excellent answer. Pity your brother didn't have the same one,” she states, and my eyebrows pinch as I peer at her.
