From fourteen-year-old Brynn’s summer camp journal:
Dear Moms,
OMG, it’s asparagus this year. And whenever a girl eats any, the boys yell, “Don’t eat the stinky tinkle sticks!”
Boys are so dumb. Why didn’t you ever tell me that?
And why do we only get one veggie for the whole camp?
Also, everyone’s got boobs but me. I know you said it would happen, but WHEN? Kinsey’s boobs arrived. Everyone’s boobs arrived.
Except mine.
Kinsey said, and let me quote, “Nice mosquito bites.”
I’m not going to put on my bathing suit. I’m not going swimming. Which, because it’s a million degrees, means I’m going to die. Good-bye, Moms, we had a good run.
Love,
Your thoroughly dead daughter
THE NEXT DAY after work, Kinsey was frustrated. She’d tried to see Brynn at school, but her sister had refused to talk to her during class and then had sneaked out at the final bell before Kinsey could catch her.
Both Max and Eli gave her a wide berth until she finally tossed up her hands. “Look, it’s not my fault she’s gone.”
“Actually, it kinda is,” Max said.
Eli didn’t say anything, just leveled her with those steel-gray eyes that never failed to reach into her soul and remind her that she wanted to be a better person than she really was.
Dammit.
She spun on her heel and left. Using the GPS to get to Brynn’s moms’ place, she parked on the street and eyed the small, modest but well-kept home. The grass was a little long, but vibrant green. The two oaks were thick and lush. Gorgeous, colorful flowers lined the walk and filled planters along the porch railing. She had no idea what kind of flowers, because she’d never been impressed by flowers before. And she’d certainly never grown any.
One of the moms—Kinsey didn’t know which one—answered her knock. She was petite and wore a long, flowy, whimsical sundress covered in bright sunflowers. “Can I help you?” she asked Kinsey with a sweet smile.
“I’m looking for Brynn. I’m Kinsey Davis. Her . . . roommate.”
Her mom looked interested in this information. “I thought she wasn’t taking the room after all.”
“There was a . . . miscommunication. We very much want her to.”
Brynn’s mom’s smile warmed. “I’m Raina. And I remember you, you know. I haven’t seen you in years and years, not since Parents’ Day at summer camp in . . . goodness, eighth grade, I think. Come in.”
“No, don’t let her in.” This was from Brynn, who was suddenly standing behind her mom.
Raina shook her head at her daughter. “Hiding from your feelings is never a healthy choice, baby. And it plugs you up, remember?”
Brynn banged her head against the doorjamb a few times.
Kinsey smiled at her sweetly. “We wouldn’t want you to get plugged up,” she said.
Brynn rolled her eyes, gently nudged her mom aside, and said, “We’ll be outside talking. Do not listen in.” She then shut the door.
Kinsey opened her mouth to say something, but Brynn held up a finger and cocked her head at the closed front door. “Mom, I can still hear you breathing,” she called out.
“Dammit,” came Raina’s voice. “It’s my allergies. There’s a lot of pollen today. I’m going to go sit in front of the humidifier.”
Again, Kinsey opened her mouth, but Brynn shook her head. “Not yet,” she whispered, then said loudly, “Let’s go to McDonald’s for a Big Mac and fries, the extra-large order with extra fat.”
Nothing from the other side of the door.
“Okay,” Brynn said with what looked like relief. “She’s really gone.” She eyed Kinsey coolly. “What are you doing here?”
Kinsey paused. “You, um, have nice toenail polish.”
Brynn looked down at her sparkly purple toes. “You came here to say that?”
“No, I came here to say you suck at fighting. But we have that deal where I have to say something nice to every not-so-nice thing.” She drew a deep breath. “You’re not supposed to go away when you get mad. You’re supposed to fight back. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that?”
“No,” Brynn said.
“Well, it’s true.”
“Okay,” Brynn said. “So let’s fight. You’re sick. Like really sick.”
Kinsey sighed. “Yes, but don’t you dare look at me with pity.”
Brynn let out a choked laugh. “Are you kidding me?”
The front door opened. It was the other mom, or so Kinsey assumed. This one was wearing a suit dress and heels that Kinsey drooled over.
“Honey,” this mom said to Brynn. “Even I don’t leave friends out on the porch.” She smiled at Kinsey. “Hi, I’m Olive.”
“She’s not a friend,” Brynn said. “This is Kinsey, from summer camp. You remember, the one I complained about every time I got to call home.”
“Ah,” Olive said, and looked Kinsey over for a long beat.
Kinsey squirmed a little bit. Embarrassed, she realized, at what a shithead kid she’d been. She gave a little wave and a grimace. “Camp was a long time ago.”
“True,” Olive said, and stepped back, gesturing for them both to come inside the house.
Brynn hesitated, but not Kinsey. She took the only “in” she was likely to get and entered the living room.
“Raina’s making tea,” Olive said. “She also has homemade cookies.”
“Don’t eat the cookies,” Brynn said quickly to Kinsey.
“Not those cookies.” Olive shook her head. “I made her throw those out. You can eat the new ones and still pass a drug test.”
Kinsey blinked and looked at Brynn. “Your mom makes pot cookies?”
“Don’t ask.”
Okay, then. She smiled at Brynn, surprised. “You get more and more interesting.”
Brynn rolled her eyes. “Mom, we need a moment.”
“Understood.” Olive moved to the kitchen.
Again, Brynn shook her head when Kinsey began to speak. She gestured for Kinsey to follow her and led her down a hallway to a bedroom that appeared to be a shrine to Brynn’s entire life, between the corkboard wall covered with pictures and the shelves filled with trophies.
“Who did you steal all the athletic awards from?” Kinsey asked.
“They’re participation awards. I sucked at all sports, as you well know.”
“And the Backstreet Boys poster on the back of your door?”
“It was a phase.” She swiped her forehead. “You’re making me crazy anxious.”
Kinsey let out a low laugh.
“You think this is funny?”
“No,” Kinsey said. “I just thought I was the nervous one. And I don’t even do nervous anymore. I’ve learned that being anxious about shit ahead of time just means I’ve got to be anxious twice. I’m no Miss Merry Sunshine, but sometimes it helps to just think as positively as possible.”
Brynn slid her a look. “That’s . . . surprisingly astute.”
“Yeah, yeah. But since my natural state is to be Eeyore, sometimes it’s a process.” She looked at her sister standing in the middle of her childhood bedroom, a grown woman surrounded by her past, which by all accounts had been happy and sweet. Still, she had her arms crossed, her expression pissy.
Like her life had been so hard. It was a bunch of BS really. Yes, she’d come over here with the intention of opening up, but having watched Brynn with her awesome, loving, weird moms, suddenly she didn’t want to.
Because what did Kinsey have? Let’s see. She had a con artist for a dad, a mom who was only around when she needed something, and a messed-up kidney.
“So?” Brynn asked. “Why are you here? You made it pretty clear we’re not friends.”
“Maybe I want to be. Friends.”
Brynn laughed.
Annoying, even if she deserved that. “You’ve had things pretty good, you know that? Good health, even if you’re constipated.”
Brynn sighed.
“Hell, even my best friend likes you.”
Brynn met her gaze. “Does that bother you?”
“Not even a little. I like seeing Eli open his heart. He doesn’t do that, you know. Like . . . ever. His relationships with women are superficial at best. It’s because he thinks he’s faulty.”
“We’re all faulty.”
Kinsey gave a grim smile. “True, but some more than others. Although Eli’s only fault is seeing the best in people like me, even though he’s had it rough. Did you know he was pretty much rejected by both parents and then sent away at age ten because they didn’t have time to be bothered with him? That scars a kid, Brynn, big time, and yet he’s still a great guy. He deserves a really great woman, but the one time he allowed himself a serious relationship, she tossed him aside for a promotion on the other side of the country. That was five years ago,” Kinsey said. “And now he doesn’t commit his heart because he sees himself as disposable.”
Brynn was standing there, arms still crossed. “Is there a reason you’re telling me all of this?”
“Yes. If you hurt him, I’ll have to kill you.”
“I’m going to pretend you’re joking, but I get it. Everything I know about Eli tells me he deserves the moon.”
“Damn right,” Kinsey said. “But this isn’t about Eli. Or you and Eli, even though he thinks you have a good ass, which is annoying because it’s true.”
Brynn blinked. “Then what is it about?”
“It’s about just you. Your life’s all put together.”
Brynn’s jaw nearly hit the floor. “Are you kidding me?” Shaking her head, she laughed. Then she kept laughing, eventually having to bend over and put her hands on her knees.
Pissed off, Kinsey turned toward the door.
“Wait.” Her sister seemed to make an effort to get herself under control. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry you’re sick. I really wish you’d tell me more. I’m also sorry that you didn’t get good parents. And that I fell into a fun job and you didn’t. Your job’s hard, because you mostly only get to hear about problems and have to help people fix them. That’s got to be draining. But you need to know that my life is about as far from put together as it can be.” Brynn spread her arms, gesturing to her shrine. “I mean, yes, my moms are amazing, but they can also be a bit smothering. I can’t find myself to save my life, and my résumé makes me look like a ping-pong ball.”
“Yeah, well.” Kinsey drew a deep breath. “It’s all subjective, I guess. You’ve got two moms who care, good health, and a very annoying way of being sweet and kind—two things I can’t manage on my best day.”
Brynn came toward her. “You know, my moms have far more love to give than they have children. Feel free to take some of it. You’d be doing me a favor. They’re . . . a lot.”
“Hey, we heard that!” came Olive’s disembodied voice. “And we’re not smothering in the least! Also, can you ask Kinsey where she got her heels? They’re fabulous.”
Kinsey blinked at Brynn. “Are they right outside the door?”
“That or they still have the kid monitor in here somewhere.”
Kinsey was . . . boggled. Still staring at Brynn, she said, “I buy my shoes online at a discount outlet. They’re still ridiculously priced, but I search the internet for coupons and wait for the four-for-the-price-of-three sales.”
“Nice,” Olive said. “I’ll need the website when you get a chance, honey.”
“Oh, and dinner’s ready,” Raina said. “I set the table for four.”
Brynn looked at Kinsey. “I warned you not to come in. It’s not my fault now—this is all on you. Let’s go.”
Which was how Kinsey found herself seated at the dining room table, where there were napkins—stolen from Taco Bell, but still—and everyone sat at the same time and ate together, talking, laughing, and talking some more.
The food was amazing. “I want to marry your enchiladas,” she told Raina.
Brynn’s mom smiled sweetly. “Everyone does. Do you cook?”
Kinsey laughed. “My culinary talents run in the direction of ordering takeout.”
They all laughed, and then Raina dished out small tins to each of the three of them.
Olive and Brynn stared at theirs with twin expressions of dread.
“What is it?” Kinsey asked.
“It’s my summer dry-skin balm,” Raina said. “Olive and Brynn have really dry skin, and I didn’t want to leave you out. It’ll fix you right up.”
Kinsey opened the salve, smelled it, and coughed. Yow.
“Never smell it,” Olive whispered.
When Raina moved into the kitchen to clear some dishes, Kinsey leaned into Brynn. “The salve smells like dirt.”
“It’s turmeric. Just smile and bear it.”
Raina came back, and everyone smiled at her. Somehow they started telling stories. Olive told them about the time Brynn’s grandma got arrested for trying to bring CBD oil onto a plane and ended up as a headline: Granny Arrested at LAX for Carrying Illegal Substances. “I had to drive to LA in the middle of the night and bail her out,” Olive said.
Raina shook her head. “You know I can beat that. Remember the year Brynn called from summer camp, sobbing because someone had taken her wubbie?”
“Yes,” Olive said. “You got in your car and headed right up there.”
“Yes, and as you know, halfway there, I got stopped by a cop for speeding. When I told him I was racing to summer camp to save a traumatized child, he said I was a nice grandma and should have a nice day.” She lifted her chin. “So I told him I was no one’s grandma, that I was in fact thirty-five years old, and he laughed.”
“Because you were forty-five,” Olive said.
“Forty!” Raina shot back.
“Right, and those five years were so important to you that you threw your soda at him and got arrested for assaulting an officer, and then resisting arrest.”
“Well, he wouldn’t listen to me!”
Brynn turned to Kinsey and gave her a look that said, Still think my life is all put together?
Yes, she did. She was smiling. In fact, her face hurt from smiling. She was still smiling when after dinner Brynn walked her out.
“You’re coming home with me, right?” Kinsey asked her.
“No.”
Her smile faded. “So then why did I sit through dinner?”
“Because you liked my mom’s enchiladas so much you moaned while eating them, and then nearly licked your plate. Plus, you laughed your ass off.”
Yeah, she had. At least until she’d realized that she’d been the bully at summer camp who’d stolen Brynn’s . . . “wubbie,” which had been a very old, ragged stuffed teddy bear. Her stomach still hurt thinking about it. “Look, about summer camp—”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fine.” Because neither did Kinsey. “But here’s the thing. If I don’t bring you back, Eli and Max are probably going to change the locks on me.”
Brynn huffed out a dramatic sigh. “Well, I wouldn’t want you out on the streets.”
Kinsey paused and took a good look at her, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “Hold on. You had every intention of agreeing to come back. You just wanted to see me beg. You need out of this house as badly as I need you in Eli’s.”
Brynn grimaced. “Maybe.”
Kinsey laughed. “You know what? You actually suck less than most people.”
“Good to know.”
“And . . .” Kinsey said, giving her a “let’s hear it” gesture.
“And what?”
“And I suck less than most people too,” Kinsey said.
“No, actually you suck way more than most people.”
Kinsey thought about it and nodded. “Yeah, probably. But you’re still going to come back, right?”
Raina opened the front door and smiled at them. “This weekend I’m making another batch of enchiladas. I’ll expect both of you and your other two roommates as well.” She beamed. “And, Kinsey, bring your parents, too.”
Kinsey looked at Brynn.
Brynn shrugged.
Okay, so Kinsey was on her own with this. “That all sounds nice,” she said carefully. “But it’s just my mom and she’s usually busy, very busy.”
Raina brushed this off with a sound that said, Don’t be silly. “Who’s too busy to meet their daughter’s new roommate? Oh, and don’t worry about bringing anything, we’ve got it all covered.” She smiled. “I’m so excited to meet all of Brynn’s new peeps.”
“Brynn asked you not to say ‘peeps’ anymore,” Olive called out from the living room.
“She knows what I mean. Don’t you?” Raina asked Kinsey, looking at her with eyes that were far sharper than her easy smile let on.
She was definitely being summed up, and normally she wouldn’t give a single crap about what people thought of her. But she found herself nodding.
“So you’ll come?” Raina asked.
“Yes.”
“And bring everyone?”
“I’ll invite them,” Kinsey said. “Whether they come or not is up to them.”
“Tell them I make the world’s best enchiladas. Tell her, Brynn.”
Brynn smiled with love and affection, not even a little embarrassed that her mom was basically bribing Kinsey to be Brynn’s friend. “It’s true,” Brynn said. “You do make the world’s best enchiladas.”
Raina beamed. “Good girl.” And then the front door shut.
Kinsey looked at Brynn. “Wow.”
Brynn narrowed her gaze. “Wow what?”
Kinsey lifted her hands. “Nothing.”
They both stared at each other, and for the first time in a long time, Kinsey wanted something, and she wanted it bad too. She couldn’t have said why or how, but she wanted Brynn in her life, and hell, she also wanted her moms. “I’ll come if you do,” she said softly.
Brynn nodded. “Then we have a deal.”
It was what Kinsey had wanted, but . . . “That seemed too easy.”
“Trust issues much?”
Kinsey blew out a breath. “Just tell me. You’ve got a stipulation, I can feel it.”
“Actually, no. I don’t.”
“Everyone’s got a stipulation.”
“Fine,” Brynn said. “I get that your health issues are your own business, but if we’re going to really be friends, then you have to let me in a little. Tell me things.”
Like the fact that you’re my sister? “Such as . . . ?” she asked carefully.
“Such as, what’s the trick to getting the kids at school to love me as much as they do you?”
Kinsey felt herself go warm with the unexpected compliment. “You just have to be real.”
Brynn met her gaze. “You should try that with me sometime. When you do, I’ll know you meant it about being friends.”
Normally when people were snippy with Kinsey, she wrote them off. She was the only one allowed to be bitchy, because, hello, look at her damn life. But something weird happened with every prickly response Brynn gave. Kinsey’s tension lessoned. It was like Brynn was the perfect antidote. Dammit. “You’re a very strange woman.”
“Takes one to know one.”
Kinsey drove home, still a little stunned that she’d actually—hopefully—talked Brynn into coming back. Her sister was different from anyone she’d known, which left her feeling a little off-kilter and confused. She had no idea why, but she liked bickering with her. And laughing with her.
Oh, boy. Please don’t let it be that sister thing Eli had always told her was there. Because that would mean Eli was right about something, just like he almost always was.
But whatever was happening with her and Brynn, it felt . . . sibling-like. She’d seen it with Eli and Max. Yeah, they were brothers, but they were also more. They argued, they fought—hell, just two weeks ago Max had pushed Eli through the hallway wall. But they’d made up, laughed, and then had played a video game, all within a ten-minute span. Then Max had taped up a huge poster of the beach over the hole in the wall, the one Eli told him he had to fix before summer was over.
They were so annoying, and yet . . . and yet she wanted that. Desperately. And she wanted it with Brynn, even though she didn’t deserve it.