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“Because you were trying to win him over, right?”

I blink, nodding reluctantly.

“Then when you didn’t want anything to do with him, magically he didn’t want to send you home anymore?”

Suddenly, things are making a whole lot more sense. “Wow.”

“Exactly. I told you, I understand him. So, I’m not saying to be absolutely awful to him. But if you want to get to the end, make sure he’s pursuing you the whole time. Don’t let him think he’s won.”

I kick my legs out in front of us and huff. “I feel like we’re setting feminism back by a few decades right now.”

“No, we are weaponizing Jordy’s fetish for outdated gender roles to beat him at his own game. Personally, I’m perfectly comfortable.”

I think on this. “How is it possible we both survived Jordy without serious issues?”

“Well, for me, I suppose it’s because I had serious issues before I met Jordy. Also are you quite sure you haven’t been left with issues? The last time I checked, you dropped literally everything in your life to come on reality TV to bring him down.”

“Hey!”

“I am just stating a fact, Maya, don’t shoot the messenger.”

The moonlight catches on her newly shortened hair as we swing. I stare at it for a few moments. Silver now, instead of gold. “What sort of issues?” I ask.

“Hmm?”

“You said you had issues before Jordy.”

“Oh.” She laughs airily. “It was mostly a joke. I suppose I just mean I’m pretty careful about who I let in.”

“How come?” I ask.

“I assume it’s related to the fact that my mom left the family when I was a kid and I haven’t heard from her since.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize.”

“Oddly enough, I don’t regularly bring it up in conversation. When people ask how you’re doing, they don’t want you to say, ‘Fine, thanks, but I’d be better if I knew for a fact whether or not my mom’s watching the show. You know, because that would mean she’s interested in seeing what sort of person I’ve grown into.’”

I catch the ground with the bottom of my shoe as we swing past. “So, I guess, when Jordy suddenly came back into your life after leaving it, it must have been weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Like, it totally would’ve brought up a bunch of your mom stuff for you, right? Like, oh, here’s this person I thought was gone forever, but now they’re back, and they’re interested in knowing the person I am now, yadda yadda.”

Skye stares at me with wide eyes until I drop my head, cheeks flushing. “Um… or not. I guess I’m putting words in your mouth. I just assumed… whatever.” I fumble for a subject change. “My parents are divorced, too, actually. But my dad’s still around. Kind of. He lives in Missouri, but he’s good at phone calls and flying me out for visits. I can’t imagine what it would feel like if he’d disappeared.”

Skye nods, her expression serious. “That’s still hard, though.”

“It is. But he always says he left Mom, not my sister and me. Even though he could’ve probably left Mom and stayed in Connecticut. He’s better than a lot of deadbeat dads, so Igive him a pass. At least I know he loves me.” I wince when I replay my words. “Sorry.”

“No, I know what you meant. But it’s funny, right? Mothers are put on this pedestal. There’s this stereotype that if a parent hurts their kids, or doesn’t love them, it’s got to be a dad, becausemomsare supposed to do anything for their kids. There’s nothing stronger than a mother’s love, and all that. But mine was never that into me. It’s the sort of love that’ssupposedto be guaranteed, but…” She trails off, but I hear the unsaid implication.

“That’s not your fault,” I say.

“I know it’s not. I was seven. She just wasn’t capable of that, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.” She clenches and unclenches her jaw, the muscles working furiously. “At least I have Dad, and he loves me enough for both of them.”

“That’s good,” I say. “Still hurts though, huh?”

“Yeah. It still hurts.” Skye bites her lip, her brow creasing. “You know, maybe you were onto something before. About my mom. When you told me about the cheating—that night—I kept thinking about her. I suppose I hadn’t considered why that was.”