Page 18 of What’s Left of Us

And because it was Dad, Nat had no choice but to nod along with the fakest smile I’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure if Dad couldn’t tell the difference, or if he just didn’t care.

I rolled Nat’s question around my head. If I didn’t know better by now, I’d reply with something like this: because he’s too cool. Because I’m not pretty enough. Because we’ve been friends since forever, and girls like Riley Cresley are way more interesting.

“He just doesn’t.” I shrugged and attempted a D minor chord. It sounded awful, and my fingertips already hurt. They had the beginnings of calluses though. Once I got proper calluses, this wouldn’t hurt at all.

“He blushes all the time.” Nat shifted off her stomach, twisting until she faced me. I pretended to focus on my strumming, even though I’d learned on YouTube it was better not to look at your hands. Nat, unfortunately, was undeterred. “He got flustered just yesterday. You got excited over something and hugged him. Do you remember?”

“Yeah, Nat. It was yesterday. Obviously I remember.” I’d hugged him because we were finally going to share the same lunch period. He had seemed flustered, but I wasn’t letting myself read into it.

“Soooo,” she drawled. “Do you⁠—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine.” Nat huffed and shifted again, moving until her back was pressed against the wall. We were both wearing the same T-shirt, unintentionally of course, but something that happened often. Mom liked to joke that we shared the same brain.

Maybe that was why an entirely new thought entered my head, right as Nat started to change the subject.

“I guess Mrs. Lewis⁠—”

“Did you kiss someone?” I shrieked. “You did, didn’t you? Is that⁠—”

Nat lunged for me, pressing her palm firmly against my mouth. My eyes widened.

“Shut up, Vi.” It was her turn to look worriedly at my open door. There was nothing amused in her expression. “You did not just yell that. You’re going to get me killed.”

She kept her hand against my mouth until I licked her palm. Then she reeled back and scrunched her nose.

“Ew!” She leaned against the wall once more, attention darting to the door and then back. “You have to be quiet.”

“You’re the one who brought this up. So. Who did you kiss?” I was careful to whisper. “Is it someone I know? Is it Devin?”

“Sydney’s brother?” Nat looked repulsed, but I didn’t understand why. Devin was nice and he had cute dimples. “No, gross, Violet.”

“Was it Phoebe?” Buried deep with my crush on Atlas, I loved the idea of me one day marrying him, and Nat one day marrying Phoebe. Then we’d all be a family, and maybe we could be neighbors. With a tunnel between our basements. You know, nothing fancy.

“What? No. Obviously not.” Nat looked down at her hands, at her fingers as she twined them together. “Do you remember Michael?”

“Michael…” I trailed off. There was only one Michael I knew, but he couldn’t possibly be who she meant. I moved my ukulele to the floor and crawled to her side.

“From tennis.” Nat’s throat bobbed so intensely I could see it.

“You mean…” I bent slightly, trying to catch her eye. She wouldn’t look at me. “But h-he’s old.”

“Not really.” Nat shook her head. “He’s only twenty-one.”

I blinked. I didn’t know how to make sense of what she was saying.

“You’re fifteen.”

“Whatever.” Nat’s face screwed up into an ugly scowl. “I knew you wouldn’t get it.”

She shoved off my bed, making it only a few steps before she whirled around.

“Don’t tell anyone, or I’ll never tell you anything ever again.”

I stared after her in shock, long after she’d closed her bedroom door across the hall. I couldn’t decide which was worse: the fact Nat had kissed an older guy or the fact she’d trusted me enough to tell me…and I’d ruined it.

“I’m worried about Nat.” I sat beside Atlas on his back porch, watching our sisters arrange their lawn chairs against his family’s back fence. They’d originally been tanning up here on the porch, but as soon as we arrived, they went as far as the yard would allow, just to get some ‘privacy’.