Free Grave Secret by Charlaine Harris

hitting is wrong?”
    “It’s not the best way to solve a problem,” I hedged. “What could you have done instead?” That seemed appropriately touchy-feely.
    “I could have told the teacher,” Mariella said. “But then I’d have to talk to her about my birth dad, and she’d get that funny look on her face.”
    “True.” Hmmm.
    “I could have walked away, but then Lindsay would have done it again.”
    “Also true.” Mariella was more insightful than I’d ever imagined.
    And she was really enjoying talking to someone who didn’t tell her God would solve her problems.
    “I could have . . . I can’t think of anything else.” My sister waited for my reaction.
    “Neither can I. I guess you had an impulse, and you acted on it, and it didn’t turn out well for you. What happened to Lindsay?”
    “She lost four recesses,” Mariella said. “For being a bully.”
    “So that was good, right?”
    “Yeah. But it would have been better if she’d kept her mouth shut in the first place.”
    Whoa. Little warrior woman. “You’re right about that. It’s not your fault that your birth dad used drugs. You know that. But there are some kids who don’t understand what it’s like to have parents who do bad things. Those kids are lucky, but they can’t seem to get that it’s nothing you want to talk about. They just know it’ll make you feel bad. So when they want you to feel bad, that’s the first thing they’re going to throw at you.” I took a deep breath. “We went through that, too, Mariella. Tolliver and me. When you were really little. Everyone at the school knew how crappy our parents were.”
    “Even the teachers?”
    “Maybe not the teachers. I don’t know how much they guessed. But the other kids, they all knew. Some of them bought drugs at our trailer.”
    “So they said mean stuff to you?”
    “Yeah, some of them. Others thought we were doing the same bad stuff your mom and dad were. Drugs and stuff.”
    “Sex stuff?”
    “That, too. But the kids who thought we were the same as our folks? Those were the kids that didn’t really know us. We had friends who knew better.” Not too many, but a few.
    “So, did you date?”
    Whoa! She wasn’t even having periods yet. Right? I almost panicked. “Yes, I dated. And I never went out with a boy who thought I was going to have sex with him right away. The more careful you are, the more reputation you get for being the other way, being very . . .”
    “Holding out,” Mariella said knowledgeably.
    “Not even that,” I said. “Because if you say ‘holding out,’ that means you’re going to give it up someday, that you’re just waiting for some boy to say the right thing to unlock your legs. You can’t even let that be a possibility .” I knew Iona would explode if she could hear this conversation. But that was why my sister was having it with me, not Iona.
    “But then no one will date you.”
    This was simply awful. “Then to heck with them,” I said, recalling just in time to rein in my language. “You don’t need to go out with a guy who’s sure you’re going to give him sex if he goes out with you long enough.”
    “Why are they gonna go out with you, then?” she said, looking baffled.
    That was nothing compared to the way I felt. “A boy should go out with you because he likes your company,” I said. “Because you laugh at the same things, or you’re interested in the same things.” At least, that was the theory. Was it ever that way in practice? And it shouldn’t even be arising at Mariella’s age, which was what? Twelve?
    “So he should be your friend.”
    “Yes. He should be your friend.”
    “Is Tolliver your friend?”
    “Yes, he’s my best friend.”
    “But you’re, you know . . .”
    She couldn’t quite bring herself to say the words, and I could only be thankful for that.
    “That’s kind of our business,” I said. “When it’s the real thing, it means so much you don’t want to talk about it with