Page 24 of How to Hide in Plain Sight
The Manuel® 2.0 is the very latest in cosmic justice technology. Built with all the features you love about the original Manuel®, the 2.0 also includes souped-up anger and the ability to hold a grudge.
CONVICTION:
You are not forgiven. You are not forgiven, and your best friend is not here to celebrate your brother. He’s here to give you the punishment you deserve.
ACTION:
The only way to make it through this week alive is to turn away. Turn away and walk out the door.
Tearing my burning cheeks away from his gaze, I slipped out the back door and darted across the patio. I was making for the stairs that led from the patio down to the rocks below. The whole way there, words from the conversation between Karma and my mom echoed through my mind:
She’s weak. That’s what you were going to say.
I’m just being honest.
The words bounced like sharp-edged rocks about the corners ofmy mind, ricocheting off its soft, fleshy interior, leaving behind little gashes and trickling blood.
I’d been so foolish. So unbelievably stupid and naive. It didn’t matter that I’d moved to New York by myself, that I’d gotten a job, that I’d never once asked for help. To them, I would always be sensitive, emotional Eliot. The baby.
She’s weak.
Just as I reached the top of the stairs, a small, shadowy figure stepped in front of me, blocking the way down.
I jerked backward. “What the—”
“What the hell is going on with you and Manuel?” Karma asked. She was tiny but terrifying in the shifting shadows cast by the lights inside the cabin.
“Nothing is—”
She advanced, pointing a finger in my face. “Don’tnothingme, Eliot Beck. He’s your best friend, and the two of you are acting like estranged cousins.”
I rubbed at my forehead, wondering if the cereal boxes left a crease. “I mean…it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. Things are—”
“Is that so?” Karma crossed her hands in front of her chest. “How long, exactly? Tell me—have you visited him in Boston even once?”
I shuffled backward. “That’s none of your business.”
“Bullshitit’s not my business.”
“It’s not,” I snapped. I could feel my temper slipping away—the first time it had done so in almost three years. “This ismyfriendship, not yours. Maybe try butting out, for once.”
Karma’s dark eyes narrowed. “Manny might be your friend, but he’s like a brother to me. He’s part of this family, and I reserve every right to ask what the hell is going on with my family.” She paused. “And, yes, by the way. To answer your earlier question. We do text.”
I blinked. “What?”
“The first time was just a few months into his freshman year. He wanted to know if I’d heard from you since you got to U of M. Imagine my surprise to learn that your best friend didn’t even knowwhere you lived.”
My temper strained at its ever-fraying leash. “I’m not having this conversation with you.” I pushed past my sister and started down the stairs.
“Have you found a therapist in New York, Eliot?”
I paused halfway to the bottom. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Just answer the question.”
I turned all the way around. “Yes. I have a therapist in New York.”
“Good.”
