Milky enters our house after another long night at work and attempts to slip out of her shoes. Most nights, I’m in too deep a sleep to hear her come in. Tonight, I forced myself to stay up so we could talk.

For us.

For Noah.

I switch on the lamp on the side table, startling her. She freezes in the entryway, one hand grabbing her shoe, the other using the wall to hold her up. Wincing, she says, “I’m sorry. Did I wake you? I tried to be quiet.”

I sit up higher, let my blanket fall to my waist. “No, I was up.”

“Bad night?”

I shrug.

She nods, presses her lips to a line. “Well,” she starts hesitantly, “I’m going to stay with Bradley, so you can have the bed.”

“Do you have to?” I ask, my words rushed and loud. I get to my feet, face her completely. “I mean, I thought maybe…”

She raises an eyebrow. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe we could…” I shrug again.

She takes in my stance, my words, my nervousness, and her features soften. “What’s going on, Andie?”

“I thought maybe we could have a night in… together? Like we used to when we were kids.”

Her smile is slow, soft, a contrast to the Milky from only a few hours ago. Her shoulders drop, her defense fading with the anger that had built inside both of us. Moving toward me, she says, “I think I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

She takes my hand and tugs. “Come here, you big goof.” And then I’m in her arms, the absolute last place I thought I’d find peace. But I do. Because Noah was right. This—what we have—it’s so much better than the alternative. “Let me just text Brad quickly, let him know I’m not coming over. I’m sure he’s already sporting a semi, at least.”

“Milky!” I laugh out, taking my blankets from the couch and moving them to her bed.

She types away on her phone while she raids our fridge and pantry for snacks so we can sneak-eat them under the covers—something we used to do as little girls so we could hide it from our grandmother.

Milky returns to the room with a tub of ice cream, two spoons, and a bag of popcorn. “It’s the best I could do.”

“It’s perfect.”

She hands me the ice cream and drops the popcorn onto the mattress. Then she strips out of her shorts, leaving her in a half top and panties, and climbs into bed. Her phone sounds with a text, and she smiles as she reads it.

“Is he mad?” I ask, removing the ice cream tub lid and dropping both spoons in there.

“Nah. He says he’s glad we’re talking and told me to apologize to you even if you don’t.”

My lips tilt with my smile. “Well, I am sorry… I shouldn’t have said what I said. I had a bad day at work.”

Milky frowns, tearing open the bag of popcorn and dumping it in the ice cream. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Someone found out I was part of the program, and now everyone’s seeing me differently.”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “That sucks, but fuck those people. They don’t know shit about you.”

I offer the best smile I can muster.

“And about not telling Grandma and Grandpa. It’s just… honestly, Andie, I think it’s better this way. For everyone. And besides, it’s not exactly the easiest conversation to have, you know?”

“I know. I get it. I overreacted.”

Milky stirs our ice cream/popcorn mixture and giggles to herself. “Oh, man, if Bradley could see us now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You and me, half-naked and in bed together? It’s like his dream.”

“Oh my God.”

“You want to mess with him a little?”

I giggle. “Okay.”

Milky pulls down the straps of my tank top and does the same with hers, then we get under the covers just enough to leave our bared shoulders revealed. She holds her phone above us, ready for a selfie. “Kiss me.”

“No way!”

“Just on the cheek, you brat.”

I kiss her on the cheek while she takes the picture, licks the spoon more seductively than any sister should ever witness. Ever.

A second later, he sends back a text.

A dick pic.

“Jesus Christ, my eyes!” I squeal.

“What? It’s a nice peen,” she laughs out, patting her phone. Then her voice changes to one used for speaking to a pet. “Such a pretty peen.”

“There’s something wrong with you two.”

We giggle harder, louder, like two little schoolgirls, and I wish we’d had more of these moments when we were younger. When we were actually school girls.

“Milky?” I ask, my mood sobering.

“Yeah?”

I ignore the ice cream and get more comfortable in bed, turning on my side so I can face her. “Bradley… he treats you right, doesn’t he?”

She sets the ice cream on the nightstand and mimics my position. Now we’re face-to-face, closer than we have been in years. She smiles, and I find myself doing the same. “He does, Andie. He treats me better than any guy I’ve ever been with, and yes, the sex is good, but… I don’t know.”

“You like him?”

She nods. “Yeah, I think I do. At first, I thought that getting him that job at the club would ruin us, you know? It felt weird being on the stage, knowing he could see me. I for sure thought he’d want nothing to do with me after that.”

I drop my gaze, guilt kicking me in the gut. “Maybe you should quit.”

“I’m not going to quit,” she says, nudging my foot with hers. “The money’s good, and we have to look at the bigger picture here. Besides, that’s not the point. The point is, afterward, he didn’t mention what I was like on stage. He opened the car door for me, waited until I was seated, and when he got in the car, he put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him. He stayed that way the entire drive home. Like we were on a date or something.”

“Or he could just be nice.”

“That’s the thing, most of the time when guys are nice, they’re nice for one reason and one reason only. Bradley’s already had that, and he’s still nice.”

“Maybe you have a magical pussy,” I joke.

Her eyes widen. “Oh my God, Andie! Never in my life did I ever think I’d hear you say that word!”

I shrug.

She sends Bradley a text: Andie just said pussy!

He sends back another dick pic.

“Hey,” she says, shoving the phone under her pillow. “Did you talk to Noah tonight?”

I nod, my smile fading, memories of his words causing an instant ache my chest.

“He kinda went off on us for no reason…”

“He had a reason,” I say with a sigh, rolling to my back so I can stare at the cracks in our ceiling. “It’s his sister’s birthday today.”

“Oh yeah?” she asks. “Is he missing her or something?”

“Something,” I mumble, turning my head to hers. She’s watching me, her eyebrows knitted. “She killed herself two years ago. He’s the one who found her.”

“Jesus,” she whispers

“They were really close. He called her his best friend.” I focus on the ceiling again. “Why weren’t we ever best friends, Milky?”

“I don’t know,” she croaks, reaching for my hand under the covers. “But you’re my best friend now. That’s all that matters.”

“That’s because you left your old life behind for me.”

“I have a lot of regrets,” she says, her voice barely a whisper. “But choosing you is not one of them.”

I squeeze her hand, my way of saying thanks.

Silence passes a beat, two, and then she’s gripping my hand so tight, I don’t know if she realizes it. “I worried about you… I worried you’d have those same thoughts…”

“I did,” I tell her honestly.

“God, Andie, I’m sorry.”

“But then if I did it, I wouldn’t serve my purpose. I wouldn’t get my reward.”

Releasing my hand, she nudges my foot again. “Noah’s nice.”

I can’t help but smile. “He is.”

“It’s a shame you didn’t meet him when we were sixteen, huh?”

“Well, he would’ve been thirteen, so that would’ve been super creepy.”

We fall into a fit of laughter and spend the night that way, talking about boys, life, love, choices and regrets. When the sun begins to rise, my twin wraps her pinky around mine, whispers the words I hadn’t known I’d been missing. “It’s just you and me now, Andromeda. BFFs forever.”

In this room, on the first of what I hope will be many nights, my twin and I are how we should’ve been at sixteen. “Forever ever, Milky Hyphen Way.”