“I’m sorry that I just assumed you were going,” she said. “I guess I do take the good things in my life for granted sometimes.”
“I think we’re both probably guilty of that.”
She hesitated. “Why did you lie to me about telling Ryder the truth?”
“Because I didn’t want you to be mad at me?” I said. “That sounds ridiculous in hindsight. But I guess I just thought … I thought that if I lied, I might be able to keep you both. Instead, I lost you both.”
“You didn’t lose me,” she said. “But you will if you keep doing this.”
“I know,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself. “But it’s scary to tell the truth sometimes. I’ve always been able to hide behind lies. To shield myself.”
“What are you shielding yourself from?” she asked.
“Judgment? Scorn? I don’t know.” I wanted to lie right then. To get out of this conversation before it got too honest. But Amy was right. I couldn’t keep lying. “The funny thing is, I hid behind lies because I was scared that … that if people knew everything, saw all of me, they’d take off running. Like my mom did. So I’d only let bits and pieces show. Instead, the lies ended up driving everyone away.”
“Not everyone,” she said. “You’ve got the Rushes in your corner. But you’ve got to start letting us in. Letting us help. You know … you mentioned college.”
“I don’t want to talk about that anymore.”
“Just hear me out,” she said. “That’s another thing. No more talking over me or pushing me around. That’s got to change.”
I nodded. “Sorry.”
“That’s on me, too,” she said. “I’ve got to start speaking up. I’ve got to stop being quiet, weak Amy and start being … Fierce Amy.”
“Fierce Amy?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Someone’s been watching America’s Next Top Model.”
She ignored me. “Back to the college thing. It might be too late for next semester, but that doesn’t mean it can never happen. There are scholarships — I’ll help you find them. And my parents aren’t just going to kick you out on the street after you graduate.”
“I can’t let them keep taking care of me.”
“Then you can pay some rent when you find a job,” she said. “But let us help. You’re part of the family, Sonny. Whether you like it or not. You’re stuck with us.”
“I guess I can think of worse people to be stuck with,” I said. “But what about us? Are we back to normal? Sonny and Amy?”
“Not quite,” she said. “That’s probably going to take a while. I love you, Sonny, but you’re going to have to prove that I can trust you again. That you’re not going to lie to me anymore.”
“I can do that,” I assured her. “It’ll be a hard habit to break, but … but I can take an oath. A vow of honesty.”
“That sounds a little more dramatic than what I was hoping for, but okay.” She put her bowl in the sink. She hadn’t eaten much of her midnight snack either. “Now come on. I know it’s silly, but I have a hard time sleeping when you’re in the other room.”
We headed toward the stairs together. “You know,” I said. “While we’re trying to build a healthier friendship, we might want to deal with our whole codependency thing.”
“Probably,” she agreed. “But maybe another night.”
Chapter 29
“Okay. Here goes. Ahem. I, Sonny Elizabeth Ardmore —”
“Shouldn’t it be Sonya?” Amy asked.
“No.”
“I’m just saying, if you’re going to be all official about it, it should probably say your full name.”
“Ugh. Fine.” I picked up a pen and scratched out Sonny before scribbling Sonya above it. “There. Sonya. Happy?”
Amy shrugged. “Personally, I still think the whole thing is a little on the ridiculous side. But I guess that’s not really a surprise coming from you.”
“Forgive me for liking a little bit of formality when it comes to taking my oaths.” I picked up my paper again and cleared my throat. “I, Sonya Elizabeth Ardmore, hereafter swear to tell the whole truth, nothing but the truth, so help me —”
“Isn’t that plagiarism?”
I looked up. “Huh?”
“Aren’t you plagiarizing the oath people take on the stand?” Amy asked.
“I don’t know if that’s plagiarism.”
“It might be.”
“What if I change the last bit? From ‘so help me God’ to ‘so help me’ … Gert?”
“I’m not sure if it has quite the same power? Gert can’t smite you.”
“No, but she can stop running while I’m in the middle of a busy highway and get me killed.”
“Fair point.”
I scratched out God and replaced it with Gert to avoid any possible plagiarism allegations.
“Okay. Last try. I, Sonya Elizabeth Ardmore, hereafter —”
“Should it be ‘hereafter’ or ‘hereby’?”
I dropped the paper back onto the desk. “I give up. I’m never reading anything out loud to you again.”
Amy giggled. “Sorry. It’s just hard to take this seriously! I’m glad you’re determined to stop lying, but is this really necessary?”
“Yes. This makes it official. And it gives you license to punish me if I break the oath.”
“Well, in that case …” She stood up from the bed and walked over to where I was sitting. “I know I’m teasing you, but I really am glad you’re doing this, Sonny. Not the oath — that doesn’t matter to me — but just trying to tell the truth.”
“It’s terrifying,” I admitted. “It shouldn’t be. I know it shouldn’t be. But I’ve been able to hide behind made-up stories for so long, being honest feels like being vulnerable.” I picked up the pen. “But clearly the lying didn’t do me any favors, so …” I leaned forward and scribbled my signature beneath the typed-out oath. “So, there. It’s official. No more lies for me. Not even tiny white ones.”
“Hey, Sonny, what did you think of the chicken Dad made last night?”
“I can still plead the fifth.”
Amy chuckled.
I picked up the signed oath. “Can I frame this? Do we have a frame?”
“I’m sure we can find one.” She smiled at the piece of paper. “I think telling the truth will earn you some serious karma points, too. Have you talked to Ryder?”
“Karma doesn’t like me that much. And neither does Ryder. He still won’t speak to me.” There was a squeezing feeling in my chest and the threat of tears whenever I mentioned him. I took a deep breath and tried to shake it off before standing up and stretching my arms over my head. “I think I have a long way to go before the universe starts doing me any favors.”
Just then, my cell phone began to ring. I glanced down at the screen and was surprised to see a number I recognized. It belonged to Daphne’s, one of the clothing stores in the Oak Hill Mall, where I’d applied back in December.
Amy must have noticed the startled smile on my face, because she laughed and said, “Or maybe not,” before prancing out of the room.
I had made a vow to be honest about everything and with everyone, no matter how difficult it was.
And that meant I had to talk to my dad. In person.
It was a two-hour drive to the correctional facility, but Mr. Rush assured me that he didn’t mind taking me.
When we arrived, a guard patted us both down, checking that we weren’t bringing in anything illegal, then we were free to enter the room where the inmates waited. The room was lined with long, rectangular tables. The wearers of the orange jumpsuits were on one side, and the rest of us were on the other.