“Oh, is that what they say these days?”
“Annabelle, don’t waste your energy on trying to put me off him because I don’t even care anymore.”
“About him? Did you finally wake up and smell the cake batter? You need to. You could do better.”
I could.
But I don’t deserve better.
I deserve every slap and painful sneer for what I did.
My eyes land on Annabelle, ready to tell her all that, but something behind her—the image of my mother, who has lingered in the kitchen all morning as I baked—catches my eye.
I take a deep breath and mouth the words,I’m sorry, Mom.
Something inside me still urges me to tell Annabelle a different truth, and the words fall out of my mouth. “I kissed Ambrose.”
I don’t clock Annabelle’s reaction, keeping my eyes solely on my mother and the disappointment on her face until Annabelle drops the bowl, and her mouth hangs open. A weird sound comes out, but no words. It’s exaggerated. It’s not like Annabelle.
“Ambrose, Ambrose?”
“Do you know another Ambrose?” I toss my mixing spoon into the bowl and watch it swirl.
“No, but he’s kinda your brother.”
“It’s not as gross as it sounds. We don’t share blood.” My mother disagrees, shaking her head sternly. It’s totally disgusting to her.
“God, I need you to leave.” I run my hands through my hair and don’t care that frosting will mat it later.
“Gee, I haven’t been here all that long.”
“Not you,” I tell Annabelle as I head for the refrigerator and my stack of herbs.
After lighting the sage at the stove, I see Annabelle looking around, searching for who I’m trying to get rid of.
“I don’t need the judgment right now. For the other thing, yes. Not this. So, if you’re only mad about this, please, go and be at peace.”
“Who are you talking to?”
“My mother.” I don’t even care that I sound crazy.
Annabelle knew of myotherfriends growing up, the ones that normal people couldn’t see. She also knows of my struggles in this house and with every energy that’s attached to it.
“How did it happen?”
“One thing just led to another. The storm put us in the dark.” I shrug. “I got scared because of the dark, and he held me through it, and I just—I don’t know.”
I don’t know why I’m voicing all these things that should shame me, because Annabelle’s wide-eyed look isn’t one of surprise.
It’s excitement.
“I don’t know why I’m even telling you this. I feel like you already know. Did he tell you?”
“Not this.”
“So, what did he tell you?”
Annabelle forces more frosting beyond her lips. “My mouth is full.”
