“No!” I try to close my door in her face, but she wedges her foot inside. “Get out!”

I lean my back against the door, but Margot is stronger than me. She pushes her way in and locks the door behind her.

She advances toward me and I back away from her. There’s a dangerous light in her eyes. She’s the righteous one now. I can feel myself start to shrink, to cower. “How did you know Josh and I had sex, Lara Jean? Did he tell you that himself while you two were going behind my back?”

“We never went behind your back! It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?” she demands.

A sob escapes my throat. “I liked him first. I liked him all that summer before ninth grade. I thought . . . thought he liked me back. But then one day you said you were dating, and so I just, I just swallowed it. I wrote him a good-bye letter.”

Margot’s face twists into a sneer. “Do you seriously expect me to feel sorry for you now?”

“No. I’m just trying to explain what happened. I stopped liking him, I swear I did. I didn’t think of him like that again, but then, after you left, I realized that deep down I still had feelings for him. And then my letter got sent and Josh found out, so I started pretend dating Peter—”

She shakes her head. “Just stop. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t even know what you’re talking about right now.”

“Josh and I only kissed one time. Once. And it was a huge mistake, and I didn’t even want to do it in the first place! You’re the one he loves, not me.”

She says, “How can I believe anything you ever say to me now?”

“Because it’s the truth.” Trembling, I tell her, “You have no idea the power you have over me. How much your opinion means to me. How much I look up to you.”

Margot’s face screws up like a fist; she is holding back tears. “You know what Mommy would always say to me?” She lifts her chin higher. “ ‘Take care of your sisters.’ So that’s what I did. I’ve always tried to put you and Kitty first. Do you have any idea how hard it was being so far away from you guys? How lonely it was? All I wanted to do was come back home, but I couldn’t, because I have to be strong. I have to be”—she struggles for a breath—“the good example. I can’t be weak. I have to show you guys how to be brave. Because . . . because Mommy isn’t here to do it.”

Tears roll down my cheeks. “I know. You don’t have to tell me, Gogo. I know how much you do for us.”

“But then I left, and it’s like you didn’t need me as much as I thought.” Her voice breaks. “You were fine without me.”

“Only because you taught me everything!” I cry out.

Margot’s face crumbles.

“I’m sorry,” I weep. “I’m so sorry.”

“I needed you, Lara Jean.”

She takes one step toward me and I take one toward her, and we fall into each other’s arms, crying, and the relief I feel is immeasurable. We are sisters, and there’s nothing she or I can ever say or do to change that.

Daddy knocks on the door. “Girls? Everything okay in there?”

We look at each other and together at the same time, we say, “We’re fine, Daddy.”

71

IT’S NEW YEAR’S EVE. NEW year’s eve has always been a stay-at-home holiday for us. We make popcorn and drink sparkling cider, and at midnight we go outside to the backyard and light up sparklers.

Some of Margot’s friends from high school are having a party at a cabin in the mountains, and she said she wasn’t going to go, that she’d rather stay with us, but Kitty and I made her. My hope is that Josh is going too, and that they’ll talk, and who knows what will happen. It’s New Year’s Eve, after all. The night for new beginnings.

We sent Daddy to a party someone from the hospital is throwing. Kitty ironed his favorite button-down shirt and I picked the tie and we shoved him out the door. I think Grandma is right; it’s not good to be alone.

“Why are you still sad?” Kitty asks me as I dump popcorn into a bowl for us. We’re in the kitchen; she’s sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar with her legs dangling. The puppy is curled up like a centipede under her stool, gazing up at Kitty with hopeful eyes. “You and Margot made up. What’s to be sad about?”

I’m about to deny being sad, but then I just sigh and say, “I don’t know.”

Kitty grabs a handful of popcorn and drops a few kernels on the floor, which Jamie gobbles up. “How can you not know?”

“Because sometimes you just feel sad and you can’t explain it.”

Kitty cocks her head to the side. “PMS?”

I count the days since my last period. “No. It’s not PMS. Just because a girl is sad, it doesn’t mean it has anything to do with PMS.”

“Then why?” she presses.

“I don’t know! Maybe I miss someone.”

“You miss Peter? Or Josh?”

I hesitate. “Peter.” Despite everything, Peter.

“So call him.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

I don’t know how to answer her. It’s all so embarrassing, and I want to be someone she can look up to. But she’s waiting, her little brow furrowed, and I know I have to tell her the truth. “Kitty, it was all fake. The whole thing. We were never really together. He never really liked me.”