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“Out?” Mal tried to close the bedroom door in Lenny’s face.
“Mallory.” Lenny pushed back, and they were in a battle with the door being shoved between them. Someone could lose a finger.
“No, fuck right off, Lenny. I don’t answer to you.”
“You live in my apartment, and I pay your allowance.”
“If I had a choice, I’d be anywhere else.” Lenny let go and the door slammed, leaving her in the hallway. For once, she could be grateful Easton was too selfish to have Mallory come and live with him like she’d wanted. Things could be worse, because he’d never take the time to look out for her.
From outside Mallory’s bedroom, that had once been her guest room, she said, “Tell me how to make this work with you.”
Mal opened the door. She’d changed her shirt for one that showed a lot of her flat midsection. Oh, to be sixteen again. “Go away, Len.”
“You’re angry all the time, and it would be better if you weren’t.” And better if Lenny had some idea where that tiny shirt was being worn and when it would come home.
“Why do you care? You’re sad all the time. Mom cries all the time. And Easton acts like nothing has changed. We’re all fucked up. I’d rather be angry than delusional or sad.”
“I’m not sad.” Christ, was she? Is that what Mal saw in her. “Am I?”
“You don’t see friends. You’re mad at Fin. You nag Mom and me. You never go out. All you do is work and eat and sleep, and that’s my definition of sad.”
“No, that’s not— Wait. I am mad at Fin and I—” And at herself for not paying more attention to what Fin was doing to bring large amounts of money into D4D. She’d closed her eyes to it, and that was entirely on her. “Am I sad all the time?”
Mallory shrugged. “You were happy about the gala, and you looked really beautiful.” She moved out of the doorway and flung herself on her unmade bed.
Lenny followed her inside, stepping over a boot, a scrunched-up pair of jeans, and a towel that was dry, but might not have been when it hit the floor. The room smelled of cigarette smoke. If she weren’t still shocked by Mal’s observation, she’d have mentioned all that. “I didn’t know you thought I was sad.”
“How amazing that you don’t know everything.”
She ignored the snark. “Which is why I wanted to talk.” She sat on the end of the bed beside Mal, both of them facing the mirror over the dresser.
“The only thing I’ve got to say is you can’t get up in my face about being angry if you’re going to be sad all the time,” Mal said.
“You’re right.” Mallory put her hand behind her ear in a can’t-hear-you gesture, so Lenny repeated herself. “You’re right. It’s not fair of me to ask you to lighten up if I don’t.”
Mal shoulder bumped her. “I’m not angry all the time.”
“I’m not sad all the time. I promise you I’m not. I got to dance at the gala, I mean really dance with a man who knew how to do it without pulling and pushing at me, without stepping all over me or pawing at me. It was lovely, and I guess I forgot to be sad for a while.”
“That’s why you were smiling all Sunday. Who is he?”
“Just some guy who asked me to dance.” Had made it magical and had offered to do it again. That could never happen. She didn’t trust herself not to want to find another occasion to be in his arms, although using Halsey to attend the right social events was a tantalizing thought. At the end of the day, there was no way either of them would confuse it with something other than an arrangement.
“You got his name, right?”
“I, ah, yeah. But I won’t be seeing him again.” A girl only needed so much unrequited fraud in her life.
“Why not?”
“He’s not my type.” He was the fall in love and wake up in ten years’ time with the FBI at your door and realize you’d been sold a complete fantasy type. “You’re right. I need to do something about being sad. Maybe get a hobby.”
“You could learn to knit.”
“What would I knit?”
“A boyfriend that is your type.” Mallory leaned away to avoid Lenny’s swipe, and they both laughed.
“If I want it life size it could take a while,” Lenny said. “Especially if they don’t have a life-size boyfriend pattern.” She leaned into Mallory. “What are we going to do about your anger?”
