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“Your family.” Kat sounds quiet as she sips her drink. “You know, I was really surprised when I found out that you were friendly with Warren back in the day. He’s Ford’s second or third or fourth cousin or something like that. His family has a lot of money.”
“I know,” I say, feeling absolutely miserable and exposed and rotten to my middle.
“And all this time, you acted like you didn’t know anything about—” She gestures around her.
“Rich people?”
“Right. Rich people.”
“I might’ve exaggerated my lack of expertise.” I want to dig a hole and throw myself into it. I want to evaporate into mist. If a tree fell on my head, that’d be a mercy. I hate that I mislead Kat, but I had to do it.
“Why?” she asks, not sounding mad, not sounding like anything more than curious. And that’s Kat. She’s kind and sweet, and I know she’ll forgive me, which only makes me hate myself even more. I’m a selfish lying jerk, and I don’t deserve a friend like her.
“I need to be someone else. No, Iamsomeone else. It’s like, the second I left home all those years ago, I was totally reborn and I’ve been working so hard not to backslide into the girl I used to be. So when you’d talk about rich people stuff, I couldn’t admit I knew all about it. If I want to be this person, the person I am now, I had to live the story. I had tobethe story. And I’m so, so sorry that I lied to you.”
Kat nods to herself and sips her iced tea. I tug on my hair, feeling awkward and nervous and tempted to start running again, but I figured I gave into that bad idea once already and it didn’t have the best outcome, and I might as well avoid that particular embarrassment this time.
At least I learn from my mistakes.
“I understand what you mean,” Kat says and gives me a tight, almost painful smile, not because she seems betrayed or like she wants to tear me a new one—but because she looks genuinely happy. “If you want, we can keep on pretending.”
“Oh, god. I think that’d be even worse now.”
“Are you sure? It’ll be fun. I’ll bring you to a party at one of Ford’s fancy friend’s houses and you can point at people and act like you don’t know anything about boating or polo—”
“Idon’tknow anything about boating or polo.”
“Whatever. You know what I mean.”
“I do, and I’m sorry, Kat.”
She gestures in the air like she’s blowing away smoke. “It doesn’t change who you are, right? I mean, where you come from doesn’t make you who you are now. You’re still Melody.”
My stomach tightens and a lump forms in my throat. I want that to be true so desperately it hurts. “Yeah, totally.”
“All right, Melody. Can I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead. I owe you that much, I think.”
“Where’d you really learn how to train horses?”
I laugh and fold my arms across my chest. “I grew up on a ranch. On a really nice ranch, honestly. We bred horses, raised cattle, had a few prize cows and bulls and stuff like that. Show pieces mostly. It was my dad’s pride and joy.”
“I guess that explains a lot,” Kat says thoughtfully. “Thanks for answering. I won’t ask you anything else about your past if you don’t want.”
I open my mouth to tell her no, it’s fine, she can ask anything because she’s my best friend and I love her—but I close it again. “Thank you,” I say instead, feeling like the biggest fraud in the world. “But I have a problem. War came here to take me home. He came here to tell me that my dad’s dying.”
Kat’s eyes go wide. “Oh my god, Melody. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t, seriously, it’s fine. I haven’t seen my dad in a really long time and we weren’t on good terms back then. We still aren’t.”
“Are you sure he’s dying? I mean, how long does he have?”
“I’m sure. War says weeks. A month or two, maybe.” I lean forward, hugging myself, and bang my forehead against the table, eyes squeezed shut. “I don’t want to go home back home. I really, really hate it there, and I don’t even know how I feel about my dad, but—”
“But he’s dying,” Kat finishes for me. “And this is your last chance to talk to him.”
“Yeah.” I groan and sit up straight. I look her in the eye and steel myself for what she’s going to say. “What should I do?”
