My mother is clearly puzzled. “Isn’t anyone shocked? Or—don’t you have questions for me? Or—maybe someone is going to need therapy?” “I already need therapy,” Amanda says, shrugging. Hanna frowns in her direction, and Amanda rolls her eyes. “I have a question,” Anna says. We brace ourselves, because tweens can say absolutely anything. “Is it, like a friends-to-lovers kind of thing?” Ah, eleven. “Yes,” my mother says, giving Geneva a loving look. “It is like that kind of thing.” “Makes sense,” Anna says sagely.
