Lies You Never Told Me(45)

“Again!” shouts Vivi, shrieking with laughter. “Again!”

“All right, you ready?” Caleb puts his hands under her arms and swoops her up to the hoop. She dunks her little foam basketball with both hands.

“Vivi makes the goal!” Irene yells. She’s sitting at the table, watching them play. Rowdy runs in circles around the yard.

It’s late Friday afternoon, and we’re at my house, the slate on the patio still warm with the fading sun. Vivi’s pigtails are lopsided, her cheeks flushed pink. My parents are at a faculty banquet, and I’m babysitting for the night. I don’t mind. Caleb and Irene are over to keep us company, we have pizza money on the counter, and the fact that Sasha’s been watching my every move has left me less eager than usual to go out.

“Gabe! Gabe, ball!” Vivi squeals, pointing. Rowdy’s scooped up the ball and torn off running across the yard, tail wagging. I take off after him, and we play an exaggerated game of keep-away, much to Vivi’s delight.

Ding-dong. I can hear the doorbell inside the house. My stomach flip-flops.

“I’ll get it,” I say quickly. “Be right back.”

I try to keep my excitement down as I run to the front door. It could be anyone. It could be a FedEx guy, or a Jehovah’s Witness, or the little kids from next door wanting to know if Vivi can come play.

But it’s not.

Catherine stands uncertainly on the doormat, rubbing the back of one bare leg with the toe of her sneaker.

“You came,” I breathe.

“I came.” She smiles a little bit. “Dad had work tonight.”

We’ve been extra cautious at school since I found the razor in my locker. I don’t talk to her in the halls anymore—I don’t even look at her, if I can help it. It’s maddening. But tonight her dad is out on a job—he’s a handyman, and there’s been some kind of plumbing emergency at a duplex on the edge of town that’s going to take him all night.

So she’s here.

“You didn’t tell me this was gonna be a boy-girl party.” Irene’s voice comes from behind me, mock-scandalized. “I don’t know if I should be here.”

“Hi, Irene,” Catherine says. She glances behind her, toward the street. “We should get inside.”

“You’re right. Come on.” I open the door a little wider and let her in.

It’s somehow surreal to see her in my house. I’m used to seeing her in the woods, under the trees. My high-ceilinged living room, lined with my dad’s books, my mom’s cheerful folk art collection, my sister’s toy animals, seems too bright, too loud, for someone like her. She glances around, and her face is hard to read.

That’s when Vivi and Caleb come clattering in, Rowdy on their heels. “Gabe! Gabe, I got ball!” says my sister, holding it up over her head. She skids to a halt as she sees Catherine, her eyes getting big.

“Vivi, this is Catherine. My, uh, friend,” I say.

Catherine kneels down in front of my sister. “I’ve heard so much about you, Vivi.”

Vivi studies her face for a moment, taking her in. Vivi loved Sasha, who used to bring presents every time she came over—a pink dress, an Elsa doll, glitter ChapStick. I hold my breath, wondering how this will go—if Vivi will hate Catherine, if Catherine will be awkward, if somehow this whole thing was a bad idea. But then my sister breaks into an enormous smile.

“Hi!” she says. She holds up the ball, wet with dog drool. I’m about to jump in and intercept it, but Catherine doesn’t skip a beat. She takes it, bounces it a few times in her palm.

“So where’s the hoop?” she asks. “And whose team am I on?”



* * *



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    We play outside until it gets dark, and then retreat to the den. At first I’m tense in spite of myself. It’s not that I’m ashamed of Vivi, or afraid Catherine will turn out to be a bitch or something—but I have a long-ingrained, knee-jerk anxiety every time I bring someone new home. I want to protect my little sister. I also don’t want my friends to think I’m boring or lame.

But it’s not long before I relax. Catherine rolls with everything. She plays Dance Central with Vivi about five hundred times. Then, when we order pizza and settle down in front of the TV, she doesn’t bat an eye when Vivi immediately cues up The Little Mermaid. She even joins in when Irene, Caleb, Vivi, and I sing along—her voice is soft but pitch-perfect, sweet.

By ten Vivi’s asleep, half on the sofa, half on my lap. I gather her up in my arms to take her to her bed. My heart gives a quick lurch when Catherine gets up to go with me.

“We’ll be back,” I say. Irene has the remote and is already switching to Adult Swim.

“No hurry,” she says, without even glancing at me. “We know where the fridge is.”

My sister is limp in my arms, her head against my shoulder. I take her to her purple bedroom and tuck her in. She stirs a little in her sleep, then falls still. Catherine lingers behind me, watching, smiling.

“She’s such a sweet kid,” she whispers, when I step back out into the hall.

“Thanks. Yeah.” I lace my fingers through hers.

She catches sight of my door, painted with green and pink graffiti streaks. “Is this your room?”