Pusher

forty.

"Hey, Ang!" Ellie called. I could hear her muffled voice, just barely, through the bathroom door. "ANG!"

I twisted the shower knob, cutting the water. A quick jolt of fear shot through my veins. Was our laundry still piled in our living room? Were my mother's neatly folded scrubs still stacked on the couch? Had she seen them?

Yes — I still hadn't told Ellie that mom had gone back to work. I knew it was dumb. I'd have to tell her eventually after all. This wasn't a secret I'd be able to hide forever, but I knew what she'd say when she found out. She'd tell me to quit dealing, just like Miles, and I didn't feel much like having that argument twice. Especially because the following Sunday dinner he avoided talking to me altogether. I couldn't have Ellie mad at me too, not now.

"I thought you weren't going to be here for another hour," I yelled back.

"Ma just finished the last season of The Love Doctor. She's in hysterics. Now's not a good time to be in the house," she replied. I could envision her casual shrug and apathetic inspection of the figurines my mom kept on the hallway shelf, just as she always did when she came over. "I'm going to wait in your room so don't come walking in all your naked glory."

I rolled my eyes, groping around the corner for my towel. I wanted to spend the evening binge watching Netflix and gorging on popcorn, maybe getting a pizza delivered if I had some change to spare, but Ellie had a date coming up and was in desperate need for a new outfit. I tried to convince her that Emmanuel would still want to get into her pants if she was wearing a potato sack, but she didn't appreciate my humor. In fact, she threw a remote at me and gave me a lecture on what a good, sweet guy he was.

The remote was a lot less painful than listening to her sermon.

As a result of all this, I was obligated to look semi-decent while she tugged me around the mall. I finished drying my hair, splashed on a touch of mascara, and shimmied into a pair of too-tight skinny jeans. I sped up the process for Ellie's sake, but not by much. She once made me wait for a whole hour just so she could piece together the perfect outfit for the semi-formal Gardening Club Columbus Day party and I still hadn't quite forgiven her for it.

With one last glance at the mirror, I flicked off the bathroom light and shoved my bedroom door open, halfway through a joke about her buying a kinky costume off amazon instead of this whole "mall" thing when I froze in my tracks.

My heart stopped beating altogether, blood drained from my face and Ellie's big eyes staring up at me, her shoulders hunched over the pages of my journal. It laid fanned out over the comforter of my bed, just where I had left it. God, I was so stupid.

"What are you doing?" I bolted to the bed, tearing the journal from her loose grip Her cheeks were as red as her hair, but surely not as deep a shade as I wore. How much did she read?

"I thought Maverick had this," she started, tripping over her words, too stuck on what she just read to even answer the question. "I thought he was using your journal to blackmail you."

"He was — he did. We just — it's complicated."

"Right," Ellie replied dryly. She shoved off the bed, snatching her purse off the back of my desk chair. She tripped over herself while she struggled to slide on her shoes in record time. My head was spinning.

"Why am I the bad guy here? Why do you always make me into the bad guy? You're the one who went through my private thoughts. You know I don't let anyone read my writing."

She stopped in her tracks and turned to face me, disbelief and betrayal warping her voice. "Because you've been lying to me. For months. You lied to me about Maverick. You liked to me about your mom getting her job back — and don't think for a second I ever fell for that one."