I could pretend that I don’t know what she’s talking about, but we both know I do.
“Do you mean how you went to my senior prom with the boy I had a crush on while I sat home with mono?” Mono before I was even kissed. Damn right I’m bitter about that. “Or how after that you dated the cretin who bullied me for six years?”
“I never knew Stassi bullied you!” she argues.
“Really? He gave me the nickname Chewbacca and made Wookiee noises during my valedictory address. You don’t remember that?”
I may or may not have been a little late to the shaving game in my pre-teen years.
She slaps a hand on the table. “See, you’re still holding grudges!”
I try to look less frustrated than I feel.
“They’re not grudges, they’re facts. Facts that explain why we aren’t friends. Loyalty matters in friendship, Olivia.” I want to add “just ask Tori,” but I hold back.
“Sisters do that kind of stuff to each other. Besides, I thought you were happy staying home watchingTheX-Files. I didn’t know you cared that I went to the prom with…”
I let her dangle there for half a minute, but she can’t come up with his name.
“Jeremy. His name was Jeremy. You can’t even remember his damn name.” I put a hand on my purse, ready to walk out the door. I don’t need this crap on my day off.
“You hate me.”
There are tears in her eyes again, and I take my time assessing whether they’re real or contrived. She is a professional actress, after all, and I’ve seen her work up tears many times when she was in trouble at home. This looks legit though, and even my shriveled little heart can’t help but feel something.
I gather my thoughts before I speak. This conversation has been years in the making, and I’m ready to show my cards.
“Olivia, if you wanted me to like you, you didn’t try very hard to make it happen. When we lived in the same house, you barely spoke to me and refused to even acknowledge me in public. And after you moved away, I never heard from you. You didn’t even come back for my college or medical school graduation. Hell, you didn’t even text me on my birthday.”
“I’m not good with dates!”
“Neither am I! I put your birthday on my calendar though so I’d remember to do it. It’s what thoughtful people do.”
Olivia rolls her eyes. “So you dutifully send me a birthday text every year and that makes you a better person than me.”
“I’m not saying I’m a better person,” I say tightly, even though I obviously am a better person than she is. “I’m just explaining why we aren’t close.”
“And being my maid of honor is a way for us to get closer,” she says in a wheedling tone that I recognize as the one she uses to get my father to hand over his credit card.
“That would be great if I could get off work. Which I can’t.”
She regards me for a few moments, then smiles with condescension. “Oh, I think I get it.”
“Get what?”
“Is this because you don’t have a date for my wedding?”
I gape at her audacity. “What?”
“I know it’s probably awkward that you’re my older sister, and you’re not married or engaged or even with a significant other. And I can see why you might feel weird showing up to the wedding alone. But no one cares about that, Jordan.”
My throat and chest are so tight I can barely get out any words. “That is not why I won’t come to your wedding.”
She acts like I haven’t even spoken. “Bodhi has a million guy friends, and we could bring one of them to be your date for the weekend—”
“Not necessary. I don’t need anyone to get me a date. If I needed a date, I’d have one.”
Olivia arches one eyebrow, another trick I could never manage. “Oh, really? Who is he? Are you seeing someone?”
