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“If you guys forget this conversation ever happened, I’ll give you five bucks.” Margot reached into her pocket. “Each.”
“Margot,” I hissed. “You can’t bribe children.”
“Sure she can,” Nellie said cheerfully, gazing at Margot’s bifold wallet.
Jamie raised a hand. “Twenty.”
Margot’s eyebrows flew up, looking torn between impressed and annoyed. “Excuse me?”
“Each.” Jamie looked at me, his brown eyes still holding that same intensity. “Or else I’ll tell Mom and Dad you’re going on a date without their permission.” His expression didn’t change. “I know you’ve got it.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “I don’t need Mom and Dad’s permission to go on a date.”
“Right,” he scoffed. “My mistake,Stella.”
See what I mean? The kid was the king of blackmail. It wasn’t fair.
I knew what would happen if I didn’t hand over the money. The second Mom and Dad got home from their lunch, the twins would spill the beans. Talk all about the date and raiding Margot’s closet and Stella. And, sure, it didn’t sound like that big of an issue, but I knew my parents.
I couldn’t risk losing Stella.
Defeat no doubt clung to my expression when I looked at Margot.
“I can’t believe I’m letting a toddler blackmail me,” she huffed, pulling out two twenties from her wallet and distributing them. Then she leveled her sharp gaze at me. “What happened to not bribing children?”
“It wasyouridea.”
Nellie cheerfully rose to her feet with her bill in hand, and Jamie followed suit. He waved his twenty dollars in the air. “Nice doing business with you.”
Margot and I both sat in silence while they climbed the stairs, one step creaking underneath their weight. After a moment, I raised my eyes to her, rubbing my hands over my knees. “I’ll pay you back.”
She was quiet for a moment, contemplative. I’ve learned not to rush her thoughts, to let her form the perfect sentence in her head. “Have you ever considered telling your parents about Stella?”
“Margot.” I glanced toward the staircase, but the twins had already disappeared. “Of course not. They’d go nuclear. They’d probably throw the entire shoebox in the trash. I’m not a boat rocker like you.”
“You could be. You know how to swim.”
She looked at me as if she’d made some kind of point, but she didn’t get it. My parents weren’t like her parents, giving her ample room to be whoever she wanted to be. My parents liked everything exactly how they wanted it. Nothing out of place. That was why Mom always picked out my dresses for the country club events and why Dad always took my cell and car keys at night. They wanted to have everything done exactly how they wanted. No room for free-thinkers. No room for online colleges or wigs.
When I thought about rocking the boat, about telling Mom and Dad about Stella, a deep, suffocating sense of shame washed over me. Like I was doing something wrong. That’s how they’d see it. They wouldn’t understand; they wouldn’t even try. Instead, they’d stuff me more firmly into the mold they carved out for me, until no trace of Stella remained.
And, when I thought about my parents finding out, I didn’t want them to be disappointed in me.
With that in mind, I straightened my shoulders, almost as if I could physically brush the conversation off. “So, I can come over to get ready?”
Her hooded eyes returned to her sketchbook as she accepted defeat. “Yeah, yeah. When you come over, bring me forty bucks. I’m not paying for your demonic siblings.”
Even though she gave up the conversation, it still felt as if I was the one losing, and the suffocating sensation never disappeared.
