My lips part. Cinna has worked to make me feel included, but I never realized how much she secretly understood. My skin prickles along my forearms, because nobody has ever said it to me that directly.
“You actually noticed,” I say.
“Of course I noticed. I think it’s obvious to everyone that your mom favors June. Well, except to them.”
Suddenly, my soul feels lighter. “Thanks. For, you know. Noticing.”
She bumps my shoulder with hers and she’s already looking lighter herself. “Growing up, I felt bad about it. Seeing your mom and June together and you just off to the side. I didn’t know what to do. I was just a kid. But I saw it.” She tips her head back to look up at the starless sky. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a TV family? Everyone is just there for you and always supportive. Just so much love no matter what. I wished I could have a relationship with my mom like the one in Gilmore Girls.”
I think about being twelve and standing in the kitchen holding an empty container, and Cinna appearing at my door with two cookies wrapped in a paper towel and a kind lie. I think about all the other times she showed me that someone—she—was thinking about me.
I bump her shoulder back. “You did the right thing. I always felt…” I take a breath because am I really going to admit this to her? “I was always happier when you were around. Fuck your neurosurgeon sister.”
She slaps a hand over her mouth to cover her explosive laugh. We smile together, and I think it’s going to last, but her mood dips again.
She pulls her knees up onto the bench and wraps her arms around them. In this position, she looks younger. She looks like the innocent girl who used to bring cookies upstairs.
“Dorien said something at the food truck thing yesterday,” she says. “He was joking, but he made it seem like?—”
“I heard him. It was a joke, but he shouldn’t have said it. Pissed me off.”
She exhales. “I already know that about myself. I’m a fraud and everyone can tell because my art has no soul. It’s just something pretty you hang in a hotel to fill empty space.”
“I don’t think that.” I draw a circle next to hers in the dirt. “For what it’s worth, I think caring about whether your art has soul means it does. The people who are actually faking it don’t lose sleep over it.”
Her eyes find mine in the dim light. Even in the dimness, I can see the soft line of her mouth, and the tension in her jaw loosening. “When did you get so wise?” she asks.
I smirk. “I’m not wise. I just know what it’s like to feel like a fraud. Honestly, I like your work way better than June’s. Your pieces have a delicacy that really draws me in. It’s confident just being there, delicate and pretty, because it really doesn’t care what the viewer wants or needs. It doesn’t care about the viewer at all, and that’s why I think it’s so brilliant.”
She unfolds her arms and lets her feet drop back to the ground. Her knee touches mine and she looks like she might cry again.
A jolt of guilt stabs me. “I’m sorry. Did I?—”
“No.” She wipes her eyes and looks away. “No. What you said was really sweet. Thank you.”
I rub the back of my neck, not really sure what to say or do next, so she decides for me.
She stands and dusts the back of her skirt. “I’m not feeling great,” she says. “I’m not drunk or anything. I only had one shot. Just kind of… off.”
“You want to head out?”
She nods. “Do you have a car?”
I pull out my phone and text Carter:Emergency! Can I borrow the car?
The reply comes in thirty seconds:Yeah. I have a ride home. I’ll drop the keys in the planter by the door.
I want to ask why he thinks that’s safe, but Carter does whatever he wants and it usually turns out fine.
“Come on,” I say.
Cinna takes my hand and I almost have a panic attack.
Don’t freak out, don’t freak out.
Her fingers are cold and small as they wrap around mine, and the contact sends a current up my wrist, through my forearm, and into the base of my skull where it sits buzzing. I try to act chill as I lead her out of the garden and toward the house.
We walk through the party and out the front door. I have to check four planters before finding Carter’s keys. When we reach his car, I unlock her door first and open it.
