Page 59 of People Like Us

“Yes,” I said. “If you promise not to call them that when we sit down.”

She almost smiled. “Why?”

I shrugged. “I figured since we’re friends.”

“We’re friends?” Her whole face changed when she said it, opened up in a way that mirrored the way August’s did when we were alone in his room.

I gave her a pointed look. “Yes, Morgan.”

Emily and Lindsey stopped talking the moment we reached the table. Their eyes moved from me to Morgan and back again in that slow, practiced way they had, like they were waiting to know how to feel about it.

“Hi,” Lindsey said, drawing the word out like a question.

“This is Morgan,” I said. “Morgan, Lindsey, Emily.” I gestured between them. Morgan lifted her hand, wiggling freshly painted nails in a small wave. Emily gave the smile she used on teachers, which was more than most strangers got. Lindsey, her eyes blood shot like she’d just come in from smoking, smiled widely.

I unwrapped my tuna sandwich and took a bite, and after a moment, the conversation started back up again, while Morgan sat very still beside me, and I thought about how easy it had been to bring her into my world, and how strange that was.

Would it be that easy to bring August here too?

* * *

When I pulled into August’s driveway he was leaning against the trunk of his car, hands shoved deep in his pockets. I got out of my car and moved slowly toward him, the uncanny feeling of standing on the edge of a cliff falling over me.

“Why was my sister at your table?” The words came out clipped, and I could tell by the ticking in his jaw he was restraining himself.

“I thought you wanted us to be friends,” I said slowly.

“You can be friends with Morgan, Lola. But I don’t want my sister around those—” he cut himself off, but I knew what word he didn’t say.

“Can we talk about this inside, please?” I said, my voice came out weaker than I meant for it to.

“No,” he said firmly.

“Why?” I argued.

“Because I know you’re going to spew some bullshit to defend your friends, and I don’t want to hear it. Not up there.”

“So you’re expecting me to lie to you?” I asked flatly. He didn’t answer me.

“You’re unbelievable.” I scoffed, stabbing my manicured finger into his chest. “You love to preach to me about what I deserve. That I’m allowed to be complicated, and how I shouldn’t feel ashamed for what I want, but you won’t grant any of them the same grace. What’s the difference between me and them, August? That I let you touch me?”

He let out a humorless laugh. “Wouldn’t that be convenient for you? To delude all of this to just that. Is that what you want, Lola?” He stepped closer, leaning down so his breath fanned across my lips. “You want me to treat you like you’re just a thing to fuck so you can say I’m no better than them?”

My mouth hung open, and it would have been so easy for me to stretch onto my toes and close the gap between us.

“I gotta tell you, Sin, it’s a little disappointing when you don’t bite back.” he said in a daring tone that sent heat straight to my core.

I narrowed my eyes on him. “Is that what you want? You want to fight with me?”

“Yes,” he snarled.

“Fine,” I snapped. “You’re mad that I was nice to your sister, and you want to convince yourself you’re being a protective brother, trying to keep her from turning into a thoughtless bitch. But the truth is, it terrifies you that she might just like my friends. Maybe she’d even fit in with them. Then, you’d have to admit that I wasn’t an anomaly to the neat little box you’ve shoved all of them in. But, news flash, August, we’re not in a drama movie—they’re real people, with real problems, and sometimes they don’t handle them perfectly. I’m sorry that not everyone can be as intelligent and mature as you are.”

I was panting when I finished, and his scowl had only deepened when he asked, “Are you done?”

“No,” I growled. “I’m mad at you too.”

A devilish grin spread across his face as he said, painfully slow, “What are you mad about, Sin?”