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“It’s stupid,” I said, waving my hand. “The play is really intense, you know? I think it’s clouding my feelings. It’s getting hard to tell reality from fiction.”
Angie frowned. “It’s hard to tell reality from a million-year-old play about lords and ladies and gravediggers?”
“That’s art,” I said, remembering Isaac’s words. “The better it is, the more you can see yourself in it.”
She pursed her lips, nodded. “I can dig that. But he did a good thing for you the other night and I thought maybe…”
I shrugged, looked away. “Maybe it was a mistake telling him. I don’t know why or how I chose Isaac at all. The alcohol, I guess.”
“Or maybe because you felt safe enough with him,” Angie said. “The booze was just the grease to let it slip. You texted him for a reason.”
My mouth opened to deny, to say he happened to be in my contacts. But the truth was even in a drunken stupor, I knew Isaac was one safe place left in the world.
“What about later on?” she asked when I didn’t reply. “When you turn eighteen, and he’s gone off to make his fortune. Like Westley in The Princess Bride.” She stopped and grabbed my arm. “OMG you are so Buttercup. Is there a play? You should do the play.”
“Focus, Angie.” I sighed. “Given what happened with X, I don’t know that anything could happen with me and Isaac. Physically, I mean.”
Angie stopped walking. “Hold that thought. I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“I kind of, sort of, told my mom what happened with X.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“We just have that kind of relationship. I can’t keep things from her. She wanted to know if you were okay and I started to cry.” She tentatively brushed my shoulder with her hand. “She’s not going to say anything, I promise.”
“Doesn’t she have to? Isn’t she required by law?”
Angie shook her head, her black curls flying off her shoulders. “She doesn’t work for the school or the state, and you’re not her patient. She’s not required to do anything, I swear.” She squeezed my hand. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to break your confidence. I just couldn’t help it.”
I thought I’d feel more humiliated or betrayed or scared, but it felt almost like relief. Like I had one more person on my side.
“She’s got one hell of a poker face,” I said as we resumed walking. “The entire car ride over here, she treated me like everything was normal.”
“That’s her job,” Angie said. “And you are normal. X is the heartless freak of nature.”
“She’s going to want me to tell someone, isn’t she?”
“She won’t pressure you, but I can’t promise she won’t ask a bunch of questions.”
“That’s exactly the same thing.”
Angie gave me a hard hug. “My mom is awesome. And to be honest, I wanted to tell her. I felt like maybe you could use another person on your side.”
I stared at Angie for a moment.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
At the food court, Bonnie was sitting at a table for four with a lemonade and a plate of French fries in front of her. A large Pottery Barn bag sat at her feet. She stared intently at her phone, curling her lower lip over her teeth.
“Hey, Mom,” Angie said and bent to kiss her on the top of her head. She peered at her mom’s phone screen. “Should’ve guessed. Mom’s addicted to Words with Friends.”
“The fries are to share,” Bonnie said absently, then sighed. “Here.” She handed me her phone. “You want to give this a try? I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with four A’s and three E’s.”
“You can make the sound of someone yawning,” Angie said plucking a fry and dipping the tip in ketchup.
