CHAPTER 23
That night, Mom and I split tucking the kids in, but instead of asking for Mom, Junie asked for me.
Ivy crawled into bed first, fluffing her covers over her while I held the corner of Junie’s duvet up so she could crawl in. “Did you have fun with Mom home?” I asked her lightly.
After celebrating my NYU acceptance in my bedroom, we ended up taking a short road trip to the beach in Bayview.
It was the perfect afternoon by the water, where we swam and soaked up sun—and maybe got a little sunburnt—and went out for dinner after.
Theo’s eyes were droopy on the car ride home, but I’d refused to let him close them for more than three seconds. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
Junie avoided my gaze as I settled her blankets over her. “Yeah.”
I glanced over at Ivy, who was already curled on her side. “Mom was saying her work offers a few work-from-home days a month,” I said, reaching to push Junie’s hair off her rosy cheeks. “She’ll have to work during the day, but she’ll be home to pop in and say hi. That’ll be nice.”
A tiny tear suddenly trickled out of Junie’s eye, and she pulled her blankets up higher. “Yeah.” This time, the word was nothing more than a squeak.
“Hey.” I sat down at the top of her bed, combing my fingers through her hair the same way Mom had done to me earlier. “What’s wrong?”
Another tear leaked down her cheek, lashes clustering with wetness. “I just miss having Mom home,” Junie murmured, words muffled by her blanket. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”
A tender feeling pressed down on my chest, and I slid my arm around my little sister, squeezing her close to me. “I know. But that’s why we have to think of things a bit more before we say them. We have to think about if they’ll hurt someone’s feelings.”
Junie snuggled herself deeper against my side. “I’m not good at that.”
I snorted. No, you are not. “You get better as you get older.”
“But you’ll never hate me if I hurt your feelings.” I could hear the insecurity in her voice.
And it made me tuck her closer. “Never. We’re sisters. We can fight, but we always apologize.”
She nodded a little. “I’m sorry for throwing the cup at you. And for elbowing you in the face. And for saying you’re old and boring.”
“You know, you don’t have to list everything out like that—”
“I love you, Daisy.” Junie gave me one final squeeze before tucking her arms to her chest.
Ivy, from her bed, murmured sleepily, “I love you, too, Daisy.”
“And I love you.” I pulled myself up from Junie’s bed to move to Ivy’s, leaning down to drop an obnoxious kiss on her forehead. She giggled, swiping it away. “Get some sleep.”
I shut their bedroom door behind me, but before I went to my room, I stopped by Penn’s.
Her door wasn’t fully shut, but I still hesitated in knocking, debating what I wanted to say.
A second later, it tugged inward, revealing Penn on the other side of the threshold.
“I thought that was your heavy breathing out here.”
“Brat,” I muttered under my breath, and I might’ve swatted at her if she hadn’t immediately padded her way to her bed. She was dressed in her pajamas, but she had her laptop open on her bed, Netflix loaded. “Whatcha watching?”
“Haven’t decided yet.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m thinking of a really ancient throwback, like Monte Carlo.”
I sneered at her. I trailed into her room, looking at her walls.
She wasn’t like me, with papers on every surface, but she did have a few posters up, as well as a few art frames she’d picked up at garage sales.
Her bookshelf was meager, and it reminded me of the one in Jamie’s room.
Jamie, who always seemed to have a new book in hand with a very small bookshelf.
“Jamie said thanks for helping him fill the pothole.”
“Before or after you two argued in the driveway?”
“You heard that?”
“Some of it.” Penn brought her computer onto her lap, but didn’t look at it. “Why were you with Dalton?” And then, ever so slightly, she patted the space on her bed beside her.
“It’s a long story.” I walked over to her bed and sat down, immediately drawing her top sheet over my legs. “The short version is because I wanted to remind myself that he sucked.”
“Good. I was afraid my older sister really was an idiot.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Penn shrugged. “You know, I thought…” She stopped, quirking her lips to the side. “The other day, when you asked me if your character looked like anyone. He looked like Jamie.”
I was a little taken aback by the subject change, but just said, “Yeah.”
“Did you mean to draw him?”
“No.”
“You like him?” Penn looked over at me, and our gazes locked.
She was so attentive for her age, so discerning, that it only took a second of her looking at my expression to nod.
“I knew it.” Penn leaned further back against her headboard, giving her head a little shake.
“I knew your fake relationship would end with one of you falling for the other. I just thought it’d be Jamie. ”
I thought it’d be both of us, I thought, tracing the seam on her sheets.
“You should tell him,” she suggested. “Maybe you’ll be surprised.”
“You must not have heard the whole conversation yesterday, then. He doesn’t like me like that.”
Penn sighed a little through her nose.
I’d expected Nellie to text me today because surely Jamie had already broached the topic of our breakup to her.
I’d expected her to be shocked, to call me and demand to know what happened, but she hadn’t.
I wondered what Jamie had told her. That he’d caught me with Dalton?
And how had she responded—disappointment?
Was she trying to organize her thoughts before texting me?
Had Jamie not talked to her yet? The questions swirled around in my mind, leaving me uneasy.
Penn and I were both quiet long enough for her computer screen to dim from being idle. She tapped a key, bringing it back to life. “How does it feel to know that you’re being replaced as the babysitter come fall?” Her words had a sarcastic barb to them.
“Don’t say that,” I muttered, glaring at her. “You’re not replacing me. I don’t want you taking on as much as I did.”
Penn rolled her eyes. “I’m not looking at it the same way you did. You always looked at watching us kids like you were being a fill-in parent.” Her voice softened. “A fill-in for Dad.”
“It never felt that way.”
“But you acted that way. You never got angry. You never yelled. You parented. There’s a difference. I’m not like you.” Penn lifted her chin. “If Junie throws a cup at me, I’d throw it back.”
I arched a brow.
A small smile tugged at her lips before she forced it away. “Fine, okay, I wouldn’t. But I wouldn’t put up with half the stuff you do.” She kicked at me lightly. “You’re going to come home and be impressed by the tight ship Mom and I are running.”
“Don’t get rid of me that fast,” I muttered, slouching lower against her headboard, looking over at my sister. She wasn’t looking at me, but at her computer screen, and it lit up her bright eyes. “I’m still the babysitter for the rest of summer.”
“Not a babysitter.” Penn tipped her head to look at me. “Their sister. My sister.”
I looked at Penn—really, really looked at her.
Her hair was almost brownish in the dim light, tucked behind her ears, revealing her face.
She still had her RBF, but I could see the softness in her brown eyes, the same look I’d been catching glimpses of over the past few weeks.
The same look I’d been brushing off. My sister, she’d said, the two words tinged with something that sounded like hope.
Heart squeezing, I snugged up into Penn’s side the way Junie had to mine, clinging. “Check—is Monte Carlo still on Netflix?”
“Personal space,” she grumbled, pushing at my shoulders to no avail.
I hugged her tighter. “I’m being a sister,” I said cheerfully. “You said you didn’t want a parent, so you get your clingy sister.”
Penn eventually gave up fighting me, going limp as I hugged her. “You’re a loser,” she muttered, lifting her arms. Instead of trying to push me away again, she began typing the movie name into the search bar.
Friday, when Nellie texted me asking if I wanted to bring the kids to the playground in Biscayne Park, I knew it was time.
She’d spent yesterday developing a plan, strategizing, and she was ready to lay it out for me.
Even though I didn’t want to hear her no-doubt foolproof plot of my fake breakup with Jamie, I agreed, and packed the kids up around noon.
Nellie was sitting on one of the swings when we arrived, her dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail, a lightweight sweater falling off one shoulder. Her hand shot into the air as she spotted us, lips breaking into a grin. “Carmichaels!”
Junie rushed up to her, grinning. “Did Jamie come with you?”
“Ah, I see. I’m chopped liver. No, the bookworm decided to stay home.” Nellie scrunched her nose. “Loser.”
Junie gave an offended gasp on his behalf before they all navigated toward the play structure.
Nellie reached over and wiggled the swing chain beside her, indicating for me to sit down. “Hi,” she said, the sun lighting her face. “I’m glad you could come out. I’m glad Theo’s feeling better.”
I sat down on the swing, but froze at her words. “What?”
“What do you mean, what?” She frowned a little. “You said he was sick.”
I blinked. “You haven’t talked to Jamie?”
“No. Why?” Nellie glanced over to where Theo was climbing on one of the rock walls onto a platform, Penn trailing after him. “Why the ominous tone? Is Theo okay?”
“You haven’t talked to Jamie at all about what happened on Wednesday?”
“Dude, Daisy, no. I haven’t really been home—Beck and I went on a picnic yesterday afternoon in Bayview, but he lost his keys in the grass, and we spent hours hunting for them.
I haven’t really talked to Jamie since Wednesday.
He said he was skipping book club and going to your house, but that was it. What happened?”