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“I don’t think it’ll come to anything like that,” I manage thickly after far too many seconds. “The internet sort of makes their own rumors, you know? Once the idea is there, they pretty much don’t need much to keep it alive.”
I peek at Lila, and instead of seeing gratitude at my save, she looks almost…irritated. It’s not something I’m used to seeing on her. It’s gone too quickly for me to really analyze it though.
“It’s just a silly game, Aunt Bea,” she says finally. “It’s only for a few weeks.”
It’s only for a few weeks.
Why does that make me want to frown? I can’t seem to get a handle on my own head.
“Sure,” Bea laughs. “Whatever you kids say.” She points her fork at Lila. “You all up for a game of Farkle?”
“I fucking hate that game,” Jack groans.
Bea smacks his good shoulder, causing him to yelp. “You want me to break your other arm? Watch your mouth.”
“Why are you so mean to me?”
Bea rolls her eyes. “Oh, hardly.” She looks between Lila and me. “Two of you want to go find the game? I keep them in Dee’s closet. Top shelf. Might need Ian’s help to get it down without causing an avalanche.”
There’s a twinkle in her eye that suggests she’s up to something, but Lila is already standing, dropping her napkin on her empty plate. “Sure,” she says. And then to me, “Come help me?”
“Okay,” I say, standing from my own chair.
I know the way to Lila’s bedroom; I’ve seen it many times, after all, but stepping inside it after all this time feels…different. Even if everything looks exactly the same.
“Wow,” I say. “Bea hasn’t changed a thing, has she?”
“I think it makes her feel better,” Lila says over her shoulder as she crosses the room to her closet. “She gets lonely here living on her own.”
“But you guys visit a lot, right?”
“Oh yeah. At least once a week.”
I shuffle over to Lila’s bed, picking up a stuffed rabbit resting against her pillows, a smile touching my lips. “I see this guy is still clinging to life.”
“Who?” Lila angles my way, chuckling when she sees what I’m holding. “Ears will outlive us all.”
I run my fingers over one soft ear the rabbit was named for. “I remember you couldn’t sleep a wink without this damned thing.”
“I was seven,” she grumbles.
“Oh?” My mouth quirks, and I tilt the stuffed bunny back and forth. “And when did you stop sleeping with him again?”
Lila rolls her eyes. “Shut up.”
“I remember the year you were obsessed with tea parties,” I muse, setting the rabbit back on her bed and eyeing the little wicker table in the corner. “Jack and I drank so much fake tea, I’m surprised we didn’t get sick.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, arching one tailored brow, and my eyes are drawn to her smug expression, which makes her lips pout, taking my thoughts to places they shouldn’t be. “You know, cool things happened here too.”
“Oh yeah?” I chuckle. “Have a few ragers in here?”
She shrugs. “No, but I did try weed right there at that window.”
“Wow.” I fake a gasp. “Scandalous. What else did I miss in here, Outlaw?”
“Let’s see.” She taps her finger against her bottom lip, and it’s an actual struggle not to let my eyes settle there for too long, feeling an urge hit me out of nowhere to run my finger there instead. “Well. I snuck a boy in here when I was sixteen.”
I feel the fine hairs on my neck prickle; this is not news that should put me on edge, since I was twenty-one when this apparently happened, so why the fuck does it? Why do I suddenly hate this game we’re playing?
