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"They know, maybe, but they like to pretend otherwise," I say.
"I took a guy to prom."
"That's different. You're the golden child."
"Please. They love how much you love school."
They do. Julie shines in social situations, but she's not as book smart. She has her own problems. Which is why I need to take control of mine.
And I don't even have a problem. I'm good. I'm great.
I'm better than great. I'm horny.
I check the coast is clear—Mom and Dad are talking business on the porch—and I show my sister Patrick's Instagram.
She scrolls until she finds a picture of him. "He's adorable. Tall?"
"Tall enough," I say. "Not that you'd ever be able to tell." I take my cell and hold it over her head.
"Hey! I can jump." She does, in fact, jump.
I lift the phone higher.
She laughs as she leaps for it.
"You're going to break something."
"So show me more of him," she says.
I hand her the phone.
She takes it to the table and studies the images. "Oh my god. This is you." She finds a recent shot of his work. The tattoo Patrick put on my ribs. "You talked about this design for three weeks straight."
I did.
"You didn't tell me! Can I see! Please. I won't tell."
"Okay, but fast."
She nodsof courseand watches with wide eyes as I peel my shirt and my bra up my stomach.
It's extremely weird, but it's sweet too.
"Wow." She just stops herself from tracing the lines. "That's beautiful. Can I get one too?"
"You're not eighteen."
"But he's your boyfriend, right? He'll break rules."
"He won't be my boyfriend when Mom and Dad kill me."
"They won't find out," she says.
"They always find out."
She nodsmaybe.
"And he's not my boyfriend. We're just… having fun."
