no idea how else to explain it. I’d clearly bloomed early, but that was all there was to it.
“Why?” Finn asked eventually.
“Why what?”
“Why the hell did you decide to have sex on your twelfth birthday?”
“Oh. Because my father was in Hawaii,” I said like that explained everything.
He stared. “And?”
“And it was my birthday, and I was really, really angry he wasn’t home. Well, technically he came home at eleven that night, but he had stuff going on early the next day, and I was supposed to be in bed by then, so he told me not to expect to see him.”
“So you were pissed off and had sex.”
“So I stayed up with our gardener’s son and seduced him in the living room at eleven p.m. sharp,” I explained proudly.
Finn made a croaking sound and fell backward onto the bed.
“This was a bad idea,” he muttered eventually. “This switching thing. ’Cause I hate to break it to you, but I think you really do need therapy.”
“I hate talking to shrinks,” I assured him. “I can guarantee you I wouldn’t have told Dr. Brookhard any of this stuff. Talking to you is easier.”
“Well, I guess that’s something. So what happened?”
“With what?”
“Did Uncle Joel really walk in on you having sex?”
“Yup.”
“Oh God. What’d he do?”
I sighed. “Sent me to bed, fired the gardener, and went off to do a promo tour. Never mentioned it again.”
“You know,” said Finn, “I think that explains a lot.”
* * * *
I spent much of the next day in a particularly bad mood because Angie had decided to become our career counselor. She had us write down yet another list of what we liked to do and were good at, and goddamn it, I had no idea.
“Swimming,” I repeated for the tenth time, staring at my otherwise empty sheet.
“I need you to write something more,” Angie repeated patiently. She was looking over my shoulder because I had chosen to lie on the floor again. I liked it there, and I wasn’t the only one. “I don’t believe there’s not a single thing that comes to your mind except swimming. Come on. Something you do, that you like to do. I don’t care if it’s lawn darts. There’s got to be something.”
“Yeah, well, apparently I’m just that pathetic,” I ground out.
“No, you’re not.” Angie shook her head at me and patted my shoulder. “Keep thinking. Jarett, what do you have so far?”
“I’m good with electronics,” came the prompt answer. “I like video games. I like to read too.” Jarett seemed happy to be contributing. He often seemed unsure of what to say, but this appeared to be fun for him.
“I can juggle,” Nicky called out proudly. “And I kick ass at Ping-Pong.”
I failed to see how either of these skills would help him find a career, but I wasn’t about to be a downer by pointing that out.
Lexa had long since finished writing her list, and since she never seemed to mind us reading what she’d written, I approached her and looked over her shoulder.
“I figured you’d say drawing and painting,” I told her. “You’re freaking amazing at it.”
She smiled, looking pleased. I read past jewelry making, which was cool too, and then stared at—
“Drama? Really? You’ve done acting?”
Her face darkened, and she scratched it out before I could stop her.
Shit.
“I didn’t mean… I was just surprised,” I tried to fix my slipup. “You’re probably really good at that too. I’d love to see you act sometime.”
Her expression remained unchanged. I tried to figure out what else I could say to make her feel better, but then my attention was taken up by Cai, whose voice had suddenly increased significantly in volume.
“I told you, I don’t do sports. I don’t. Now fuck off.”
“Okay, okay.” Angie backed off with a placating hand gesture. “I’m sorry, Cai. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Whatever,” he snarled and tossed away his pen.
I could tell Angie was not pleased with the way this exercise was