Page 127 of The Comeback Summer

“Were you not listening to me at all?” I say, clenching my fists. “I get it: you hate Josh. ButIlove him, and I came to you because I’m terrified I’m going to lose him again. And losinghimfeels like losingmyself. But you’re happy about this?”

Libby takes a step back, her eyes wide. “Hannah, no. I care about you—”

“Do you?” I say. “Or do you just want to make sure I need you? Some kind of twisted emotional Munchausen by proxy?”

Not long ago, I looked Josh in the eye and told him that I’d never leave my sister. Right now, I want to move to the opposite side of the earth from her.

“I don’t want to work with you anymore,” I tell her, the words spilling out of me. Words that have been building up all summer. Maybe for years. “I’m sick of runningeverythingthe way you want to.”

Libby’s eyebrows shoot up. “What? We’re a partnership—”

“A partnership with rolesyoudecided. I’m so sick of dealing with all the financial stuff—”

“But you’re good at—”

“Did you ever think that maybe I wanted a chance to come up with the ideas for our campaigns? To be creative? To talk with our clients—”

“Youneverwant to talk with our clients,” Libby cuts in. “You always expect me to take the lead—”

“Youliketaking the lead. Youlikebeing in charge. You don’t want me to be my own person—”

“Oh, you want to talk about being your own person?” Libby’s eyes are blazing. “Do you remember how you latched onto me after Mom and Dad divorced? My little shadow, following me everywhere, even when I was with my friends—”

“I was seven years old!” In an instant, I’ve ricocheted back to that childhood version of myself. I thought Libby liked having me around. I thought I was lucky to have a sister who not only tolerated but welcomed me.

Libby tosses her hair, her frustration growing. “It lasted until you were thirteen—until you met Josh and latched on tohim. And then it was like I didn’t even exist anymore! It was all Josh, all the time—”

My jaw drops. “You were jealous?”

“I wasworried,” Libby says. “You hardly had any other friends! Then he left, and you latched back on to me, and once again I had to let go of allmyfriends to take care of you—”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” I say, defensiveness rising in my chest. “I never asked you to sacrifice your social life for me.”

“Right. Like I was going to leave you alone every night—”

“Maybe you should have, if I was such a burden,” I mutter.

“So you could watch creepy crime documentaries and hide from the world?” Libby throws her hands in the air. “Then Josh comes back and you latch on to him again. And now—surprise, surprise—it isn’t working out. So you need me to swoop in and take care of you—”

“I don’t want you to take care of me,” I say, my voice sharp.

Libby scoffs. “What do you want me to do? Walk away like our parents did? Like Josh did? Maybe you should be grateful for theone personwho has always stayed.”

Her words feel like a slap. This conversation is spiraling out of control, and part of me wants to stop, to apologize, but another part is glad it’s all coming out, all these words we’ve kept inside for years, flying through the air like arrows.

When I speak again, my voice is rough. “Well. I don’t need you anymore.”

Even as the words leave my mouth, I want to reach out and snatch them back. Because I do need her, of course I do, though part of me wishes I didn’t. I’m twenty-seven years old. Shouldn’t I be able to stand on my own two feet?

Libby presses her lips together, her eyes shining with tears. “You came running tometoday.”

“Because I wanted you tolisten,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’m breaking inside, and I thought my big sister would care.”

“I do—”

“Whenever you do something bossy or overbearing,” I say, needing to get these words out, “I always tell myself that you want the best for me. That you’re trying to protect me. But maybe that’s not true. Maybe it’s never been true.”

My sister’s eyes widen; her cheeks flush, freckles standing out in angry splotches. A tiny voice whispers that I’m going too far, that I should stop before I say something I’ll regret, but then I remember all the times I bit my tongue and let Libby take charge.

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