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“If you were ten,” Mara says, “it doesn’t count. I barely remember anything from when I was ten, and that was two years ago.” She slides away from the table. “Dad, can we playExtreme Racing: Dubai?”
“I don’t know,” he says good-naturedly, “can you handle getting your butt kicked by an old man in bifocals?”
They leave the table and, in the kitchen, Mama Michaels starts washing dishes, the water running full force as pots and pans clank together.
“Can I help you with the dishes, Mama Mic—Mrs. Davis?” I ask, standing.
“No, but thank you, Saine. I wish one of mychildrenhad offered!”
“You always end up rewashing the dishes I wash anyway, so I’m saving water!” Holden calls, standing.
“Thanks for dinner,” I say loud enough for her to hear. “It was great.”
“You’re welcome any time. I’ll see you soon for an interview, right?”
“Hopefully next week, please!” I can ask about the divorce, the marriage, Trevor’s separation from the family, and how expensive it must be to have the prospect of sending four kids to college now. A financial struggle gold mine. I will give this documentary some kind of heart if it’s the last thing I do. The magic of editing will save me.
I push my hair behind my ear and head to the front door, where the leather jacket Corrine got me hangs. Holden follows, quiet in his sock-covered feet.
“Good job with your driving tonight.” I grab the jacket and it feels cold to the touch even though it’s stifling in this house.
“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not,” he says, scratching his eyebrow. “But thanks. I was pretty great.”
“I’m being serious. Good job. We’ll need to discuss the logistics of New York and everything, but it was a good night.”
“Corrine stuff aside,” he says.
I drop the volume of my voice. “What’s up with that, anyway? Were you, like, embarrassed of Corrine? Why didn’t they know you were dating her?”
He sighs. “She didn’t want me to tell them because I said they’d want to meet her. You know how she is meeting parents and stuff. She doesn’t just mesh with people immediately like you do.” He pauses to think. “At least, not unless she’s in the power position.”
He’s not wrong. The first time she met my mom, Corrine completely froze up, so yeah, I know how she is with parents and stuff. I guess this explains why she was drinking before we even got our hair done for prom last year. She had to meet Holden’s family for photos and she was nervous. His siblings must not have been around—Mara seems to have a standing date every Saturday with a piano she’s fated to battle to the death, and Trevor, well, he’s got a life with his dad now.
“But the relationship is over,” I say like it’s breaking news. “Why haven’t you said anything to them? Mara knows.”
He leans against the door frame, crossing his arms. “That’s because Mara knows everything somehow. She’s scary intuitive.”
“Or she has an Instagram account you don’t know about.” I pull my jacket on. “Don’t use me as a distraction from the truth next time.”
He pulls an exaggerated frown. “Are you breaking up with me?”
I pat him on the cheek, a little roughly. He winces butdoesn’t stop me. “No light-up sneakers? No girlfriend.”
“Have fun walking home, then,” he says with a shit-eating grin.
I roll my eyes and zip up my jacket. “Don’t pretend like you cared enough to even offer a ride.”
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