Page 86 of Daring You

“Shut up, Mike,” Astor says.

Mike does, but his lips curl into a sneer. “Guess he doesn’t.”

“You don’t get to know about my life anymore, or be involved in it,” Astor snaps. “So grab what you need and get out. Send me a list of the rest of the stuff you want. I’ll make sure it gets to you.”

“What if I want this whole damn apartment?”

“Then you should’ve put your name with mine on the lease,” Astor responds, with barely a breath in between. “But you didn’t. I’m being fair enough, so just—just go. And leave the keys.”

Mike rubs his temple and glares at me. I respond by silently expressing my wish to bop him again. He visibly shrinks back.

But, I’m forced to admit this is Astor’s game. Mike is the spineless type that is better dealt with through brains, not brawn.

“This is what I get for my concern, huh?” Mike says. “For thinking you left the courthouse because you were sick.”

“You’re not here because you’re worried about me,” Astor says, and she sounds very tired.

“It kills you to think I was, doesn’t it?” Mike says. “That maybe you mean more to me than you want to believe.”

I can’t help it. I interrupt by choking on laughter.

Mike whips over to me, ready to slay me with words, I’m sure, but he quickly becomes distracted.

“Hey—what’s that?” Mike zeroes in behind my shoulder, and walks toward whatever’s got him.

“Huh?” I say.

Astor and I both twist around at the same time, and yep, we both suck in a breath.

Her laptop.

Open.

With my dead, smiling parents, frozen in time and staring out into the wide, modern world.

“You’ve got your laptop on?” Mike asks. He picks it up as Astor races over to grab it from him. “While he’s here?”

Mike’s tall, like me, like Astor, and he easily holds out of her reach as she jumps to snatch it. “You been showing him privileged information, Astor?”

“What do you take me for?” Astor says. She puts her hand on her hips, pretending to be disaffected, but I know her heart must be pounding as hard and fast as mine.

He can’t know. Mike can never find out who I am.

“It’s a picture of two people who’ve been plastered over the news all weekend,” Astor says. “And, until now, Ben had no idea what was on that laptop, since he came over and surprised me while I was in the middle of it.”

“Well these two people are in a picture the media can’t have, since it’s been cropped,” Mike says. “The kid was on the mom’s lap. He’s been cut out, so unless you had the rest of your brain cells fucked out of you, you would’ve known that and shut this thing down as soon as Bennie-boy knocked on your door.”

Mike’s so busy attempting to one-up Astor that he doesn’t register my reaction, or the fact that he’s now the one giving up privileged info, but who am I to tell him, since my gut is fast losing altitude.

I can feel my mom’s plush, purple cotton shirt on my cheek. Gardenia perfume. A soft hand, smoothing down my hair. “Smile, Ry. One good smile will get you one scoop of ice cream after.”

A lilting, child’s voice responding, “And two good smiles?”

She laughs. Kisses my forehead. “Two of your favorite scoops, then.”

“Three?”

Dad’s deep, rumbling, laugh. “Don’t push your luck, kiddo. The cameraman better’ve caught a good picture by then. I haven’t been this uncomfortable since my penguin suit at our wedding.”

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