“What are you doing here?” I explode when I see my sister perched on the edge of my bed. Maybe that wasn’t the very best thing to say before I knew what the fuck was going on but I had just raced my ass back here because I wanted to know what the fuck was going on!

Lucy raises a teary face to me and wails my name, then charges into me with a thump. My anxiety level goes through the roof.

“Luce! Tell me! Are you hurt?” I hold her at arm’s length while I survey her. She looks pale and tired but there are no obvious injuries. Which is not entirely reassuring and I go cold, even though she shakes her head.

“Did someone hurt you, Luce?” I ask as calmly as I can, looking her in the eyes.

She gulps. “Nnn-no,” she stutters. “Not physically.” She wipes a hand over her eyes, and suddenly notices Annika standing behind me.

“Who’s that?” she asks suspiciously, pointing. I turn and Annika gives a little wave.

“That’s Annika.” I hesitate. “A friend. She was with me when I got your text. Now are you going to explain what’s going on?” I’m really scraping the bottom of my patience.

“Do you drink tea?” Annika asks softly. Lucy just blinks at her. “I’ll get some.”

She leaves and I’m relieved that she’s left us alone to talk and relieved that she’s coming back. Because I’m clueless here. I move toward the bed and sit Lucy down gently, keeping an arm around her.

“Now, let’s start at the beginning.” I take a deep breath. “Do Mom and Dad know you’re here?” I hold that breath because I’m very afraid of the answer.

Lucy shakes her head, looking miserable. Shit, shit, shit! That means they’ll both be on my doorstep any minute now. I glance at my door. Literally. They have their ways.

“Okaaay.” I don’t have to spell out to Lucy what a big problem that is, but I figure we’ll just have to loop back to it. “How did you get here?”

“Bus to Port Authority, train from Grand Central,” she says meekly.

And this is not the Lucy I know. My sister is spunky. She’s serious about track and smart as shit. I got all the smooth-talking genes. Lucy is brash to a fault.

My little sister traveled alone through Port Authority, then across 42^nd Street to Grand Central? In New York fucking City? My blood pressure is rising.

“Okay.” I can do this. “Then you took a taxi here from the train station?” Campus is still half an hour from the train, in a rural part of Westchester. I’m guessing and she nods.

“And you left school when?”

“Early this morning.” She looks at me and I see some of her fierceness returning, which is a relief and an inconvenience. I reach for my phone and Lucy grabs my arm. Obviously I’m going to win this one.

“Matt! Don’t!!”

“You’ve been missing for twelve hours? Gotta call them, Lucy. They must be out of their minds.”

In fact, I’m surprised I haven’t gotten a barrage of calls and texts about this already. I look back at my phone and see that, yeah, while I was enjoying several of my favorite sexual fantasies with Annika I missed seven calls from my parents. Double shit!

There’s no point in listening to them now so I quickly text them She’s here then slam the phone down so I can focus on Lucy. My best guess is they’ll be here within a few hours, depending on whether they’re coming from Connecticut or D.C., together or apart.

“Okay! So, you came to visit me. What’s up?” I give her all my attention now and she looks uneasy.

“It’s hard to explain,” she starts. Then Annika returns, awkwardly carrying three steaming paper cups. She holds one out to Lucy, who looks glad for the reprieve.

“I figured milk and lots of sugar, but if I’m wrong you can have mine. Yours is black coffee, Matt.” She hands it to me as I blink at her. She gestures at the door. “I can wait outside if you need me…or I can disappear.”

“It’s okay if you stay,” Lucy says grudgingly, sipping at her tea. Maybe she’s had second thoughts about having to talk to me. We’ve always gotten along well, but she’s a sixteen-year-old girl…. We don’t exactly talk.

Annika slides to a seat on the floor, leaning against my desk and stretching her long legs straight out in front of her. I have a flash of remembering those legs bare and shapely and wrapped around me just hours ago. I pause to enjoy remembering before firmly putting those memories away for now.

“Talk,” I command, tapping one foot against the floor impatiently. Annika shoots me a scolding look, which I ignore.

“I hate it there.” Lucy’s got her mulish face on.

“Why? You liked it last year. You said nothing about it over break.”

“You don’t listen! Nobody listens to me!” She flops backward onto my bed. I open my mouth to defend myself, but Annika speaks first.

“We’re listening now,” she says mildly, sipping at her tea.

Lucy turns to glare at Annika. “What would you know about it?”

“Ah, I bet you’re talking about mean girls. I do know something about that.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Lucy is gaping at her.

“I knew it! You look just like them. Why do girls like you pick on girls like me? I just don’t get it! What’s in it for you?”

“Well, you have to remember that I’m not American so I’m not an expert on American mean girls, but in general they—I mean we—pick on you because we are on the inside and we desperately want to stay there. Which means keeping other people out.” She shrugs. “The inside is small. Teeny. And it’s a war zone in there. You’re probably better off outside.”

“But I don’t even want to be inside! I just want to be left alone with my friends and my teammates!” Lucy cries and I feel awful for her. And I had no idea. I wonder if my parents do.

“You must threaten them, Lucy. You’re smart and pretty and privileged….” Annika trails off as Lucy snorts.

“It’s not that,” she mumbles. “And I’m not pretty like you.”

I look at Lucy and try to see my sister with a stranger’s eyes. She is kind of pretty in a red-cheeked girl-next-door way, with shiny brown hair cut to her chin and a tall, athletic build.

Annika shrugs again. “Sometimes bitches be bitches. Haters be haters.” Lucy and I exchange a grin at her accented slang.

“What?” she smirks. “Don’t mock me because I talk funny!” We all laugh and I’ve never seen this side of Annika.

“You’re funny for a mean girl,” Lucy admits.

“Thanks!” Annika beams, standing up. “Then I’ll leave on that good note. Before I say something mean.”

“There’s something else.” Lucy looks at me. “I don’t want to talk to Mom and Dad about it. That’s why I came here.”

I’m touched by this, actually. “So don’t. You don’t have to talk to me either. It’s your call. But you do have to go back with them, Lu-Lu.” It’s been a long time since I’ve called her that. “You can’t stay here. In fact,” I wonder, looking around my room. “I don’t even know where you can sleep tonight.”

“She can stay with me—my roommate’s not back til tomorrow,” Annika says, looping her bag on her shoulder. She looks at Lucy. “If you want.” Then back at me. “Just walk her over when you’re done talking.” She leaves with a little wave and there’s an awkward silence as I close the door behind her.

“She’s not a mean girl, is she?”

“Not really, no. So!” I roll up my sleeves mentally. “Start at the beginning, Lu.”

I hear how she snuck out of her dorm at school and walked three miles to the Greyhound bus station, paying cash so she wouldn’t be tracked. Then spent ten hours in transit. Then walked around my campus, trying to find me. It’s hair-raising. I don’t know why anyone ever has kids.

I struggle to keep my tone mild when I want to freak out. “All this because some overinflated Barbie dolls were mean to you?” I still don’t get it.

“They called me a dyke,” she whispers, eyes on the floor.

“What? Just because you’re a jock?” I’m indignant on her behalf.

“No,” she says slowly. “Because I’m gay.”

And I totally didn’t see that coming.

“Okay. Either way, they’re still assholes.”

She peers up at me. “You’re not shocked?”

“Nope. I’ve got gay friends.” Not girls, actually, but whatever. I can do this. I can be the person my sister comes out to. “Is this about the bullying? Or are you worried about telling Mom and Dad?”

“They’ll find out if I report the bullying….”

“They’ll find out no matter what, Lu. It’s just a question of when.” I say this gently but we both know it’s true. There’s no keeping anything from our parents.

She sighs and droops again.

“You’re not ready to have that conversation?”

She chews her lip. “Can’t you….?”

I snort. “Come out for you? No can do, kiddo.”

“I don’t know what they’ll say. You know how they are.” She sounds whiny now and I marvel at how mature and immature she is at the same time.

Yep. I do. Our parents are powerhouses. Everything they do is full steam. I mull on this. “Well, Mom endorses gay marriage. And Dad’s aunt was gay and it wasn’t a thing.”

“She was? Huh. But that’s not the same as having a gay daughter. Me being gay. You know it’s always easier to predict what they’ll say in public than in private.”

I nod. That’s a pretty good way to put it. It’s not that they’re bad parents or bad people. It’s just that their public faces are hard to crack. Which is exactly what Annika says about me, I realize. My phone beeps and I pick it up to read the text.

“Well, Lu-Lu. They’ll be here at 8 a.m. You have twelve hours to figure out what to say to them.”

She looks green. “Will you come with me to talk to them?’

I put an arm around her shoulder. “Damn straight! No pun intended.”

Lucy rolls her eyes when I snicker, then we head over to Annika’s. It’s dark now and we’re quiet.

Out of the blue Lucy says, “She’s really pretty. Are you dating her?”

It’s complicated, I want to say. Instead I say, “Nah. But I know she’s straight so don’t get your hopes up.”

“Maaaaatt!” My sister goes beet red and I smack the back of her head, laughing.

“Get used to it, Lu! I’m still your big brother. Think of all the fun we can have now, checking out girls.”

She comes to an abrupt stop. “Oh my God, Matt! You’re such a pig! I should never have told you first.”

I just laugh harder.