Heart Bones(40)

I stab at my ice cream. “No.”

She turns around and looks at me quietly for a moment. “What’s she like?”

“My mother?”

Alana nods. “Yeah. Your father never knew her that well and I’ve been curious. She seems to have done a good job with you.”

I laugh.

I wish I wouldn’t have laughed because I can tell my reaction just filled Alana with a dozen more questions. I take a bite of my ice cream and shrug. “She’s nothing like you.”

I meant that as a compliment, but Alana seems confused by my answer. I hope she didn’t take it as an insult, but I don’t really want to get into it even deeper or I’ll end up telling her the truth. I want to save the news about my mother for my father. I feel like I should tell him before I tell Alana.

I definitely should have told him before I told Samson. But I can’t seem to control my secrets around Samson for some reason.

I push the half-eaten bowl of ice cream away from me. “I do want to get on the pill. Not that Samson and I are…” I look up at the ceiling and blow out a breath. “You know what I mean. I’d like to be safe, just in case.” God, this is hard to talk about. Especially with a woman who is essentially a stranger to me.

Alana smiles. “I’ll set up an appointment tomorrow. No biggie.”

“Thank you.”

Alana turns around to wash my bowl. I use the moment to escape to privacy upstairs. I’m about to walk into my bedroom when I hear Sara say, “Hold up, Beyah. I need a detailed report.”

I pause and look into her bedroom. Her door is open, and she and Marcos are sitting on her bed. She looks at Marcos and waves him away. “You can go home now.”

He looks like he isn’t used to being dismissed. “Okay, then.” He stands up, but leans over and kisses Sara. “Love you, even though you’re kicking me out.”

She smiles. “Love you too, but I have a sister now, so you have to share me.” She pats the mattress where Marcos was sitting and looks at me. “Come here.”

Marcos salutes me as he’s walking out of Sara’s bedroom.

“Close the door,” Sara says to Marcos.

I walk to her bed and sit on it. She pauses the television and then repositions herself on the bed so that she’s facing me.

“How’d it go?”

I lean against the headboard. “Your mother trapped me in the kitchen with ice cream and then talked to me about my sex life.”

Sara rolls her eyes. “Never fall for the ice cream trick. She uses it on me all the time. But I’m not referring to that and you know it. I saw you walking over to Samson’s house earlier.”

I debate telling Sara that we kissed, but that seems like something I should keep private for now. At least until I figure out if I want it to happen again.

“Nothing happened.”

She deflates, falling onto her back. “Ugh. I wanted juicy details.”

“There are none. Sorry.”

“Did you even try to flirt with him?” she asks, sitting back up. “It doesn’t take much for Samson to put his mouth on a girl. If it has boobs and it’s breathing, it’s good enough for him.”

My stomach catapults to the floor with that comment. “Is that supposed to make me want him more? Because it doesn’t.”

“I’m exaggerating,” she says. “He’s hot and he’s rich, so girls just tend to throw themselves at him and sometimes he catches them. What guy wouldn’t?”

“I don’t throw myself at people. I avoid people.”

“But you went to his house.”

I raise an eyebrow, but say nothing.

Sara smiles, like that’s enough for her to work with. “Maybe we should go on a double date tomorrow night.”

I don’t want to encourage her, but I’m also not sure I’m opposed to that idea.

“I take your silence as a yes,” she says.

I laugh. Then I groan and cover my face with my hands. “Ugh. This is all so confusing.” I drop my arms and slide down until I’m staring up at her ceiling. “I feel like I’m giving it too much thought. I’m trying to think of all the reasons why it isn’t a good idea.”

“Name a few,” Sara suggests.

“I’m not good at relationships.”

“Neither is Samson.”

“I’m leaving in August.”

“So is Samson.”

“What if it hurts when we end things?”

“It probably will.”

“Then why would I want to subject myself to that?”

“Because most of the time, the fun you have that leads to the pain is worth the pain.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had fun.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” she says. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

I turn my head and look at Sara. She’s on her side, her head held up by her hand. “I’ve never had feelings for anyone before. If that happens, how bad is it going to hurt when summer is over?”

Sara shakes her head. “Stop it. You’re thinking too far ahead. Summers are for thinking about today and today only. Not tomorrow. Not yesterday. Today. So what do you want right now?”