Page 91 of The Comeback Summer

She huffs, shaking her head. “It’s a metaphor, Han. God, your brain is so literal! I’m saying thatIhad to pick up the pieces of your life when Josh left you.Ihad to put on the Band-Aids. And it was awful.Awful.I never want to see you hurt like that again.”

Her voice trembles, and my heart softens. Libby’s always seemed so competent, so in control. So bossy, too, but I suppose that’s the role of a big sister.

“I appreciate what you did,” I say, “but this is my life, Libs.”

Her eyes flash. “Yes, but it affects me, too. If you back out of the challenge—”

“You’re the one who pushed for us to do it in the first place. I didn’t even want to!” My temper is flaring, and I try to tamp it down.

She throws up her hands. “Don’t you dare put this on me. We agreed to do this. Together.”

“Right,together,” I say, unable to keep the snark out of my voice. “Meaning you pushed and pushed until I finally caved.”

Hurt flashes across Libby’s face, and I instantly regret my words.

“Well,” she says, before I can apologize, “it’s too late to change our minds. So, what now? Are you going to tell Lou you dropped out so you can bump uglies with some dickhead who’s obsessed with underwater plants?”

“Coral aren’t plants! They’re animals,” I say, jabbing a finger in her direction. “And that’s not the point! I’m going to explain to Lou that even though I haven’ttechnicallycompleted the challenge, I have accomplished theintentof it. Getting back together with Josh requires more bravery than going on a thousand dates. I’ve stepped out of my comfort zone—”

“Bullshit,” Libby says, folding her arms. “You’ve stepped backintoyour comfort zone. You’ve regressed to being a teenager!”

“Not true.” I march over to the table where my journal is sitting, then pick it up and wave it at her. “I’ve been journaling about this—”

“You were journaling about it but not talking to yoursister, who also happens to be your roommate and business partner? How long has this been going on?”

“It’s been building over the past few weeks,” I tell her, and continue before she can interrupt me again. “So much of Lou’s program is listening to our own voice, not someone else’s. I feel good about getting back together with Josh, but even if I didn’t, it still wouldn’t be your decision.” I don’t tell her that my original plan was to wait until the end of the summer. “But you wouldn’t understand, because you’re not even doing the journaling!”

“Istartedto, but you wouldn’t know that because you haven’t evenaskedme about it. You’ve been too busy falling back in love with a literalrectumof a man!”

We face off, breathing heavily, and I notice what she’s wearing. Leggings and a T-shirt. I glance over near the door where she left her shoes.

Herrunningshoes.

“Wait. Where did you say you went tonight?”

She blinks. “I went... out for drinks with Suji. Don’t change the subject.”

“Which bar?”

“Um. Dublin’s.”

She is so lying. “What did you have to drink?”

“A... vodka soda. And she had an old-fashioned.”

“Fantastic. Show me the pictures,” I say.

“What? I didn’t—we didn’t take any pictures.”

“At no time in your life have you ever had a drink with anyone and not taken pictures. Pictures of the drinks, pictures of your friend taking a sip, pictures of you and your friend holding your drinks. That’s, like, ninety percent of your Instagram.”

Not that she does this often, anymore.

She shrugs. “I forgot.”

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” I say, fully reverting back to the child she’s accusing me of being.

“I don’t care, I don’t care, I can buy another pair.”

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