For exactly forty minutes, I can’t sit still. I gnaw on my lip, I bite at my cuticles, I pace the living room. Every so often I think I might throw up, but I hold my breath and force the feeling away. I’m so nervous. And so scared. And so furious. Who is Emily and why am I only hearing about her now?
“What’s your problem?” Snake calls over his shoulder from the living room, craning his neck to stare across the room at me. He’s been watching some documentary about an airplane crash for at least a half-hour now, and he even puts it on mute for a second as he shifts his attention to me.
“I don’t have a problem,” I lie. Standing in the kitchen, I grip the worktop even harder and try to meet his eyes, but I worry that he’ll notice my panic, so I try to smile.
“She’s nice,” Snake says in an effort to reassure me. It does little to help, though. In fact, it only makes me feel worse. “She’s British.”
“British?” I echo. Awesome, I think. Cute accent. Something different. There’s no way I can compete against a British girl. No way in hell.
“Yeah, from London.” Snake laughs and turns back to the TV, putting the sound back on. “Every time I hear her talk it puts me in the mood to watch Harry Potter.”
He must think I’m weird. He must wonder why I’m so uneasy. I mean, what’s the big deal about my stepbrother hanging out with a girl? What’s the big deal about this girl potentially being more than just his friend? That’s the thing. It wouldn’t be a big deal if he were nothing more than my stepbrother. It wouldn’t bother me if I weren’t so in love with him.
But the truth is, I don’t know who this girl is. I don’t know why Tyler’s never brought her up before. What if they are dating? What if everything he said last night was just bullshit?
I feel nauseous yet again, and I try to push the thoughts out of my mind until my stomach settles once more. I’m just about to turn to the cupboard to fetch myself a glass when I hear the apartment door unlocking. My eyes fire over immediately and Tyler steps into the apartment, dragging a suitcase behind him. A bright-pink suitcase. He pauses and pushes the door open further.
Beside him, there’s a girl.
I almost hurl my fist into the worktop at the mere sight of her.
She’s taller than me, yet still smaller than Tyler, and her complexion is warm. Her hair is straight (and damp) and it ends just below her bust, gradually growing lighter at the tips. Anxiously, she interlocks her fingers as her eyes flit around the room. They’re bright, yet they look swollen. And she’s pretty. Really, really pretty. Pretty in a natural, simple way.
Snake doesn’t mute the TV this time; he turns it off completely. He rotates his body around and folds his arms across the back of the couch, eyes curious. “Tyler,” he says, “can I ask you why it’s becoming a daily occurrence for you to bring home a girl with a suitcase?” He throws me a pointed glance.
“Hey, Snake,” the girl murmurs with a sad smile, her voice apologetic. And her accent? Her accent is British. I’m in no doubt at all that I am now standing within a twelve-foot radius of Emily.
The only thing I can think is, Why the hell is she here?
“Hey,” Snake shoots back. “So what’s going on?”
Tyler knees the door shut behind him as he moves into the center of the room, but Emily remains by the doorway. He clears his throat and meets Snake’s gaze. He’s yet to look at me. “Emily’s gonna be staying here for a little while,” he says.
Staying here? Staying here? I almost want to scream the apartment down, but I’m frozen in place, my throat too dry to even attempt to make a sound. I dig my nails into the worktop.
“No questions asked,” Tyler adds, giving Snake a firm warning glance before he can open his mouth.
“Honestly,” Emily says, rushing to Tyler’s side, “if it’s too much of a hassle . . .”
“No, it’s fine.” His voice is firm.
“Are you sure?”
I want her to stop talking. I want that accent to disappear. I want her to walk out. But I know that none of these things are going to happen, so I try to control my breathing instead. It’s ragged.
“Positive,” he says. “We’re just, uh, a little short when it comes to beds. Snake?”
“Sure, she can sleep with me,” Snake agrees, a smirk on his lips. It soon fades when Tyler narrows his eyes at him. “Fine, fine,” Snake huffs. “I’ll take the couch like you. She can have my room.”
“There you go,” Tyler says. He smiles reassuringly down at Emily, right before he tilts his face in my direction. It’s like he hasn’t even realized I’ve been standing here the entire time, because he widens his eyes and then gestures for me to come over. I don’t even flinch. “Emily,” he says, giving me a clipped nod, “this is my stepsister, Eden.”
Slowly, her lips form a warm smile. She’s about to reply, about to ask me what’s up or tell me how great it is to meet me or simply say hey, but I can’t take it. I can’t handle standing in the same room as her and I can’t handle the idea of her dating Tyler.
And so before she can even speak, I storm through the living room, marching past both Tyler and Emily as fast as I can without meeting their eyes. I feel like I might just burst into tears any second, so the moment I get into Tyler’s room and shut the door behind me, I let out a sigh of relief to be away from them.
My heart is pounding so hard that I can hear it vibrating in my ears and only then do I realize just how fast I’m breathing. I don’t know why I’m getting so worked up. At first I think it’s just anger. Anger at Tyler for never mentioning the fact that he’s seeing another girl, anger at him for telling me everything he did last night and leaving me with false hope. But for some reason, I realise I don’t feel that furious. Just disappointed and unable to cope. And then, slowly, it sinks in that I’m not angry at all. I’m jealous. So unbelievably jealous.
The door swings open, ending my fifteen seconds of privacy, and Tyler steps into the room, muttering, “What the hell?”
Even looking at him hurts, so while he clicks the door shut behind him, I fold my arms across my chest and turn my back to him. “Don’t try to introduce me to your girlfriend after telling me last night that you’re not over me,” I spit, bubbling with contempt. Why does this girl have to stay here? Why does my summer have to be ruined already?
“Girlfriend?” Tyler echoes. “You think she’s my girlfriend?”
I glance over my shoulder. I think my heart might have even paused for a second. “She’s not?”
“God, Eden, no.” He shakes his head and breathes a laugh, which puts me at ease. He even rolls his eyes. “Emily’s just a friend. We toured together.”
Relief is flooding through my body, but I try not to look too thrilled. I remain calm, staring back at Tyler. “How come you never mentioned her to me?”
“Honestly, I don’t know,” he murmurs. Brushing past me, he sits down on his bed and interlocks his hands between his knees. “I never mentioned any of the people I toured with. Well, I did. I just never really told you their names.”
I can tell by his eyes that he’s being truthful, so I sigh and sit down next to him. I make sure to leave a few inches between us. “Why is she staying here?”
“Because,” he says, “she needs a place to crash. She’s got some stuff going on right now. She’s from the UK.”
“I noticed,” I murmur, slightly irritated. I don’t mean to sound gruff, but I can’t help it. Stealing a sideways glance at Tyler, I quickly go over his words. They’re not dating. They’re just friends. They toured together . . . Toured the East Coast, raising awareness . . . Raising awareness of abuse by sharing their own stories. I press a finger to my lips and stare at Tyler until he shifts his eyes to mine. “If she was on the tour, does that mean . . . ?”
I can see him swallow as he looks away again, his eyes dropping to the ground. “Yeah. Not physically,” he says after a moment of silence. His voice seems almost fragile. “Emotionally. She’s really sensitive, so think about what you say to her before you say it.”
I groan and press my hands to my face. Bending over, I hang my head between my knees, wishing I hadn’t jumped to conclusions and dramatically stormed away from her. “She must think I’m a rude bitch.”
“I can’t argue with that one.”
I quickly sit up and push his shoulder, rolling my eyes. I don’t feel sick anymore. I feel relaxed and content. “I thought you were dating her. Can you blame me?”
“Did the thought of me with someone else piss you off? Did it totally get your temper going?” He’s grinning as he gets to his feet, standing tall and smoldering his eyes down at me. Gently, he reaches for my hands and pulls me up. He doesn’t let go of me once I’m up and standing, only moves his hands to my shoulders, firmly looping his arms around the back of my neck and pulling my body tight against his. “Are you that addicted to me, Eden Munro?”
I wrap my arms around him too, just above his waist. “You wish,” I tease, but I’m lying. Hopefully he can’t tell.
I tilt my head back a little to look up at him, and I almost knock my forehead against his chin as he smiles down at me, eyes sparkling and all. “So about Emily,” he says. He moves his head forward and to begin with I think he might be attempting to kiss me, but he doesn’t. He hugs me tight, his face lingering just above my left shoulder. “You’ve got nothing to be worried about,” he whispers slowly, his breath hot against my cheek, “because, baby, I’m all yours.”