Smart Girl (21 page)

“Lord, girl, I haven’t had such a shock on Christmas since Mama’s cousin Jimmy Paul announced that he was leaving his wife, Carol, because he was actually in love with a teller named Michael down at the First National Bank.”

I lean against the doorjamb and take a bite of the doughnut. “I’m so glad my mortification amuses you. Jerk.”

She shrugs, still giggling a little.

“How is everyone reacting to this . . . uh, Christmas surprise?”

“They may have busted into the eggnog a bit earlier than usual, but I think that’s more for embarrassment than from any real anger.”

I nod, finishing up the last bite of doughnut. “Good to know.”

“I did come to get you, though,” she says, straightening herself upright.

“I’m invited to the eggnog party?” I ask cheekily.

Her smile drops a little. “You are, but I actually came to get you so you can talk to Max.”

I wince. “How mad is she?”

Landon winces too. “She’s sitting out on the back patio staring at the water. Even Taylor has stopped trying to get her to talk. I think you need to go out there.”

It was only a matter of time before I was going to have to have this conversation with Max. I just sort of hoped one or both of us would be drunk when it happened to make it a little easier. I grab a scarf out of my bag and wrap it around my neck as I follow Landon downstairs. Luckily I don’t see anyone on the way there.

When we get to the French doors that look out over the patio, I can see Max sitting on a chair, staring silently out over the Pacific. I swear the tension in her spine is visible even from here.

“You want me to come with?” Landon asks.

“Yes.” My sigh is resigned. “But I should probably do it by myself.”

She nods sagely. “May the odds be ever in your favor.”

“Oh man, I’m not even sure a
Hunger Games
reference can give me courage in a time like this.”

She grins. “Hey, I lived through this with her, and you will too.”

With that, I head in the direction of the angry girl at the other end of the yard. When I reach her she doesn’t look up at me; she just continues to stare out at the ocean. The day is gray and cold, and also foggy enough that I know she can’t be out here admiring the view. I wonder if she’s playing with her medical bracelet to keep her fingers from reaching out to strangle me. I sit down on a chair next to hers and hug the sweater around me to ward off the chill.

When she still doesn’t say anything, I decide it may as well be me who does.

“Are you super pissed?”

Max from a year ago would have let me have it. In fact, she wouldn’t have come out here to calm down at all. She would have chased me up the stairs hurling accusations and making sure I knew exactly how angry she was. I can tell that this Max is battling with herself, trying hard to calm down enough to speak, and she still won’t look at me.

“Of course I’m pissed,” she says finally.

I shrug my hands up inside the sleeves of my sweater and hold on to the fabric, bracing myself for wherever this is going. I knew she wouldn’t be OK with Liam and me dating. I knew it would be the thing that pushed her over the edge.

“I know it’s weird for you,” I start carefully. “Because I’m dating your brother.”

She turns her head to look at me finally. Incredulity and something else I can’t name are written all over her face. I try to speak faster.

“But I, um . . . I promise I wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t serious. I—” Probably better not to announce the whole
love
thing when she’s already so pissed. “I really, really like him, Max. I have for a long time. And he’s wonderful.” I reach up under the scarf to touch the necklace at my throat with a small smile. “But I don’t need to tell you that, you—”

“Stop.” The word is wrenched from her throat, like it’s actually painful for her to say it. The look on her face morphs again, and my stomach drops when I recognize what it is. Pity. “Miko, I am pissed at you. So mad I want to shake you or punch you or anything that might knock some sense into you.”

My voice is barely a whisper.

“What?”

She shakes her head slowly. “How could you put yourself in this situation?”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re sleeping with him,” she says emphatically.

I nod. “Yes.”

“You’re sleeping with him when I know that’s not normal for you. You’ve been sleeping with each other long enough that you’re slipping away on vacation together.”

“That’s not how it—”

She stands up in one angry burst.

“How many times since you got together have we all hung out? How many times have we all met up for drinks? How many dinners? How many movie nights?”

“I know it maybe feels like we were dishonest by not mentioning—”

“Miko.” She cuts me off again. “Wake up! He’s not
dating
you. Dating would imply that he acknowledged you to us even once. He’s hooking up with you. He’s keeping you a secret. It’s not about him being dishonest; it’s about him being disrespectful. And why in the world would you let him get away with it?”

Blood is pounding in my ears. I take in a gulp of air to try to clear my head. I need to try to think of what I can say. I need to explain how it’s not like that at all, but she’s still ranting.

“I am pissed. I am super freaking pissed that you’ve let yourself be put in this situation! You’ve been ditching us and messing up at work. You have dark circles under your eyes and—” She stops walking and looks right at me. “And you’re here on
Christmas
. How many times have you told me how special Christmas is for your family? How many times have you told us about the Mexican Bus tournament—”

“It’s Mexican Train.”

“Whatever! How many times have you talked about the gifts and the food and the board games and the champagne tasting you guys do on Christmas Day?”

The guilt I’ve been fighting since last night—since last month, really—comes bubbling to the surface and makes me feel like I’m drowning. Her angry words slam into me, making my heart pound harder with every sentence.

“Because December was when your mom found out she was cancer-free. I know this because we’ve done three walks for breast cancer awareness in the last year alone. I’ve heard the story so many times I could tell it myself. December was the month she went into remission, and that year you celebrated Christmas for days because you were so grateful to know you’d have so many more as a family. It’s a really big deal in your family. What in the hell are you doing here?”

I open my mouth to respond, but I’m afraid a sob will come out. It takes me a few tries to answer.

“I’m allowed to change my plans,” I tell her lamely.

The look that comes over her face then is so angry I flinch. She turns away to stare at the ocean, and when she finds her voice to speak again, the sadness in it devastates me. “But not your life.” She turns around to stare at me. “You can change your plans. But you don’t change your life around for a man who won’t commit to anything more than a sleepover.”

I have to look down at my lap rather than see the disappointment on her face. I need time to process all the things she’s said. I thought I was coming out here to apologize for sneaking around her back. But she’s actually mad because she feels like I’m letting myself be taken advantage of. The words take root in my stomach, making me feel sick. The things she’s saying are exactly like Landon said . . . and my brother said . . . and my mom said too. For the first time in months—no, more than that, for the first time in almost a year I wonder if maybe I don’t see this relationship with Liam for what it really is. I reach up to touch the necklace again.

No. I shake the ugly thought away. I know what we have. I know who he is. I trust the feelings that are between us. I have to clear my throat to speak, but I’m proud of how strong my voice sounds when I do.

“You don’t understand.” I look right at her. “I know it’s not conventional and we didn’t go about it the normal way, but we are in a relationship.”

Another sad shake of her head. “You’re too far inside the forest to see the trees, and I know that you’re not going to listen to me. But I also know my brother and how hard he’s fought to keep himself unattached all these years. He’s awesome and I love him. He’s also incredibly selfish. What he wants takes precedence over what anyone else does.”

“That’s not true—”

Her eyes narrow.

“Really? Then let me ask you this: the holiday with your family, the games and the presents and the special meaning behind them. Does Liam know that story?”

I stare at her in confusion, unsure of how to answer or why she’s asking. Liam doesn’t know about that; we’ve never discussed it before.

“You’re allergic to walnuts, you speak Japanese, you volunteer once a week teaching charcoal drawing to elementary school students. How about those things? Does he know any of that?”

I am mute. I shake my head.

“You’re giving him everything, and he doesn’t even know the most basic information about you. You left your family to be with him today. Did he even ask you about them? Did he even wonder what you might have been doing instead?”

Now I’m the one looking blindly at the ocean—at anything at all besides the pity in her eyes.

“Last summer when things were really bad, you told me to stop being an idiot. I’m going to say the same thing to you now: stop being an idiot. Open your eyes and look at the facts in front of you. Please do not be this cliché.”

The problem with not being able to see the forest for the trees is that it’s easy to lose your way the second you’re on your own. I know in my heart that I should at least think through some of the things Max said. But then we go back inside, and it is still Christmas and everyone is doing their damndest to pretend it isn’t awkward now that they know about me and Liam. It is easier for me to pretend too.

So we fall back into a familiar routine that day. He and I act just like we always do when we’re in a group, which is to say, we barely acknowledge each other at all. I don’t blame Liam when he has to leave that afternoon to go spend time with his mother, though I am the only one who knows how hard it is for him to do it.

Later that night he texts to tell me that he is going to drive back to LA rather than go back to his parents’ vacation place, and even that I can’t blame him for. I wish I could leave too, but that would have added more drama to the situation. The next day the guys go golfing, down a fourth member due to Liam’s absence, and the ladies basically lounge around watching movies on the giant TV in the den. I suspect movies were the easy choice, because watching a screen is better than interacting awkwardly; Max and I don’t really know what to say to each other.

I drive back to LA the day after, feeling utterly exhausted emotionally. Tosh is still at my parents’ house, and I haven’t spoken to any of them yet to apologize. I recognize that I have been hiding out, but it is so much easier than the alternative. I take a shower when I get home and am just changing into pajamas when my phone buzzes.

A text, just like every other time. On the one hand, I am kind of shocked that he would so casually fall right back into our regular routine. On the other hand, part of me is relieved. No matter what Max thinks, nobody really knows what goes on between me and Liam other than the two of us. I have managed to upset almost everyone I care about in some way or another over the last month. When I am with Liam, I only ever seem to make him happy. And he makes me happy too. It isn’t even a question. I text him back that I am on my way.

“You’re going to Twenty-Five on Thursday, right?” I ask him later.

We are lying in his bed playing cards when I remember to mention everyone’s plans for New Year’s Eve. He slides a card out of the draw pile and puts it into the stack in his hand.

“I am. Though I’m curious why everyone doesn’t want to go to a different place this time. We have several other options.”

I frown at my cards and draw two from the pile. “Because it’s tradition, and we all had so much fun last year. And it has special meaning for Brody and Landon.”

He’d told her later it was the first time he’d seen her and known he wanted to make her his. I want to tell Liam that it has special meaning for the two of us as well, but I’m not sure how he’d take that. The idea makes me sad, and I reach up to touch the necklace I still haven’t taken off.

“How come you’ve never asked me about my tattoos?” I ask suddenly.

He looks confused. “I love your tattoos.”

“I know, but they’re pretty unique. I’m just surprised you’re not curious about what they mean.”

He considers me for a moment. “I didn’t want to pry.”

I wish I thought that were the truth, but since he hasn’t asked about anything else either, I’m worried that’s just a nice way of saying he didn’t want to know.

“My mom”—when I realize I’ve never even said her name to him before, my throat nearly closes—“Katherine—was diagnosed with breast cancer six years ago.” His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t say anything. “My family is really close, and we were devastated by the news. There was chemo and surgeries, and she was so freaking strong throughout the whole thing.” My eyes water at the memory. “We wanted to come up with something we could do as a family in solidarity. There’s a Japanese legend about paper cranes—have you heard it?”