“No!” Tyson says. “Don’t mention the video in writing.”
“What should I say?” I ask him.
“Say nothing. Silence is powerful. He’s not worth your breath,” Tyson says.
Lainey sighs, then nods in reluctant agreement. “Okay. Fine. Don’t reply. And block him.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Tyson says.
“You think? I mean—I’m not going to get sucked back in or take him back. Don’t worry about that…. But won’t there be logistics we have to cover? Like, I have stuff at his house.”
“He can email you. And you can get to the logistics later. For now, he shouldn’t have access to you,” Tyson says. “More important, how did it go with your mother?”
“You don’t want to know,” I mumble.
“Oh, yes, he does!” Lainey says. “It involves him.”
“Me?” Tyson says.
I give Lainey a look not to go there, but she can’t be stopped. “Apparently, Grady told Mrs. Davis that you’re banging Hannah.”
“What?” Tyson says, looking horrified. “Seriously?” He shifts his gaze to me.
“Well, she didn’t say banging—but yes,” I say.
“Wow,” Tyson says, shaking his head. “Does she actually believe that?”
“Who knows?” I say with a sigh.
“Oh, well. I guess it’s not that surprising,” Tyson says. “Your mom has never liked me.”
“She doesn’t even know you,” I say. “She doesn’t really know Lainey, either. She just pretends she does now that Lainey’s famous.”
“I’m not famous,” Lainey says.
“Yes, you are. And she likes being associated with you,” I say, as it occurs to me that in a weird way, the same was true for Summer. My mother couldn’t have been any less interested in Summer before she died, but in the aftermath of the tragedy, she had the gall to put up a Facebook tribute.
“What’s her beef with me, anyway?” Tyson asks. “Or is it just…the obvious?” He looks down at the back of his hand.
I know what he’s getting at, and he’s not entirely wrong. But I dodge his question, feeling ashamed.
“Honestly, her main issue has always been the Greek stuff,” I say. “She blamed y’all for my not joining a sorority.”
“She’s not over that yet?” Lainey asks.
“She’ll never be over that,” I say, remembering how she didn’t speak to me for a month after I told her I wasn’t going to rush. That I was happy in a smaller friend group.
“But everyone will think you just didn’t get a bid,” she said to me at one point.
God forbid.
Another more recent memory pops into my head. Right after Grady and I got engaged, she took me out to lunch, just the two of us. One of her first questions was about the wedding party. Who was I selecting? I told her I had already asked Lainey to be my maid of honor—and was planning to ask my three closest high school friends to be bridesmaids. Of course, I got a sharp pang thinking about Summer, knowing that she would have been my maid of honor.
My mother got a wistful look on her face, and for one second, I foolishly believed that she sensed how I was feeling. I felt certain that she was going to say something comforting about Summer.
Instead, she pursed her lips and shook her head. “Only four bridesmaids?”
“Yes, Mom. Only four.”
She sighed, taking a sip of her Arnold Palmer. “It’s such a shame you don’t have more friends from college.”
I stared at her, gutted. “Yes, Mom,” I managed to say. “It’s a real shame Summer died.”
I didn’t expect an apology—my mother is incapable of saying she’s sorry—but I thought she’d at least change the subject. Instead, she kept right on talking about her own wedding and bridesmaids, all of whom were her sorority sisters. I was so close to telling her off, but I didn’t want to ruin our lunch. No matter how often she proved me wrong, I couldn’t help hoping that someday she’d show me the warmth I craved from her. So I let it go. The way I always did.
As I tune back into Lainey and Tyson, I hear Lainey say, “So back to our trip…Where are we going? Who wants to go first?”
“I will,” Tyson says.
Lainey rubs her hands together and says, “Well? Don’t leave us in suspense!”
He smiles and says, “So Burundi will have to wait for now. I choose Capri.”
Lainey’s face lights up. “Even though it’s a beach? And, you know, Mussolini?” she says, clearly forgetting that it had been Summer’s pick. I gently remind her, and she nods, looking chagrined.
We sit in somber silence for a few seconds before I say, “I love that, Tyson. It’s the perfect choice.”
“Yes. It is,” Lainey says. “It’s a great idea.”
