It was as if I could feel my heart drop into my stomach.
“And it seems she’s a prostitute, a famous prostitute.”
“She’s not famous,” I said. It was all I could think to say.
“She has a French name, something about a flower?”
“Fleur du Coeur. Flower of the heart.”
“So it’s all true? Your sister’s a whore?”
“They call it an escort,” I said so dryly that it sounded as if I was talking in a tunnel.
“Why didn’t you tell me this? Why did you pretend you were an only child? I even asked you what it was like to be an only child. And your father’s such a . . . correct, spit-and-polish man. What an act.”
“He’s not acting. That’s how he really is. I didn’t lie about him. His father, my grandfather, is a real Army general, and he was brought up—”
“And has a prostitute for a daughter?”
“You don’t understand. My sister left our family when she was young. My father threw her out, actually, and . . . I can’t even mention her name in front of him now.”
“But you know her? You want to be friends with her?”
How easy it would be for me to say no, but I didn’t need someone to tell me where lying got you. Evan’s face said enough.
“I want to know her, yes. I haven’t seen her or spoken to her for nearly ten years, Evan.”
“Why would you want to know a prostitute? And why did you lie to me?”
The tears were trapped under my eyelids. I took a deep breath, hoping to suck them back, but they kept coming until they started to flow.
“It wasn’t that I was lying to you, exactly. It’s the way it is. We don’t talk about her, so—”
“But you’re trying to get to know her, be with her?”
I took another deep breath. How could I explain this quickly? It took me years to understand what it was I wanted from Roxy, what it was I needed from her.
“She’s still my sister” was all I could think of saying.
He got up. “My mother was really hyper about it,” he said. “You know, with my father running for Congress and all. I told them I didn’t know any of this, but that only made matters worse. I can’t bring you to my house now.”
“Oh,” I said. It was more like a gasp.
“And for the time being, I promised I wouldn’t see you. They’re terrified that some reporter will find out I’m seeing a girl whose sister is a famous prostitute in New York. That’s how politics is now,” he added. He looked at my devastated face. “If you had only told me, I might have come up with something.”
“But she’s not part of our family anymore,” I protested.
He shrugged. “She’s your sister. She’ll always be part of your family,” he said. “That’s what blood means,” he added, and started away.
I watched him go. And then I called after him, even though I knew he was too far away to hear.
“You don’t know it, Evan, but you just answered your own question about why I wanted to see and talk to Roxy.
“That’s what blood means.”
9
Of course, it wasn’t hard to figure out where this all came from. When I entered the cafeteria, I saw Chastity immediately turn toward me. There was a look of great satisfaction on her face. She wasn’t smiling, exactly, but I could see the pleasure in her eyes. All of the girls at her table stopped talking to look my way. I heard their laughter spreading to nearby tables, rippling through the faces and over the lips of the girls in my class. More students stopped talking to look at me. I could feel the heat come into my face. In fact, the whole cafeteria seemed to go up twenty degrees.