“You keep staring out the window,” Simone mutters to my back as the hour approaches nine.

On a wary shrug I tell her, “I’ve been ready to go. Am I supposed to watch you changing outfits?”

While slipping the spaghetti straps of a tight, red dress onto her slender shoulders, she explains away my lack of style, “Well you only ever bring a few things on these trips. I’ve got ten times the alternatives.”

And ten times the beauty, which is the irony. She’d look amazing in anything and yet brings an entire store-worth of dresses with her everywhere. Redundant and a waste of space if you ask me.

“I’m surprised we just had the one carry on for New Orleans,” I mumble, staring at the sliver of the new moon.

Catching my sarcasm, she laughs and explains while applying powder to her forehead with a thick makeup brush, “It was only one night. Thank God Mark was kind enough to have our things shipped from Atlanta after.” She pads into the bathroom to see herself in the floor-length mirror. Popping back out she asks, “What do you think? Enough to make Jason drool?”

“Yes.”

“Nice enthusiasm. And you didn’t even look!”

Glancing to her I sigh, “You’re gorgeous. We all know it. Let’s just go.” I head for my purse and don’t see that she’s crossed her arms and is eyeing me with a peculiar expression.

“Sarah, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“If you’re fine I’m refried beans.”

Cocking an eyebrow her way, I smile, “Refried beans?”

On an easy grin, she shrugs, “I’m hungry. It was the first thing I thought of!”

“You’re dumb.”

“And you love me.” She spins around and holds her arms up. “So, this is the one, yes?”

“Yes.”

The dress hugs her in a way that makes her appear curvier than she is, and with her hair curled to a light wave she’s stunning. And here I am in black jeans and black, loose halter. At least I’ve got heels on.

But does it matter what I look like?

No, it doesn’t.

If Jason thinks he’s going to flirt with me to make her pay, or be jealous, or beg for him, or whatever, he’s going to be disappointed.

I won’t be used.

I have feelings, too.

I just don’t show them to anyone.

She bends for her purse and I catch a glimpse of her silky white thong.

“Um…Simone. Might not want to do that.”

Her spine shoots up. “Did you see my panties?”

“I did.”

A wicked grin flashes. “Then I will definitely have to drop something tonight. I am going to make Jason’s cock hard for me again if it’s the last thing I do!”

Thank God she doesn’t wait for me to respond with enthusiasm and encouragement, because I couldn’t muster it if I tried.

The only reason I want to hurry up is because I want this night to be over.

Pulling up to his warehouse loft space I park our rented Toyota and inhale courage. Simone has checked her face repeatedly during the twenty minute drive, further cementing in me the awareness that these feelings I have for Jason are downright wrong.

I have a brother. We’re not close. He has…problems.

But what I always wanted was a sister. And then I met her. She’s it. It’s been that way since I first started following her around after she moved to Detroit when we were juniors in high school.

Why she let me I’ll never know.

But something happens when you meet certain people. You find yourself making time for them even if the match seems odd on the outside. She and I hung daily after that first conversation in Social Studies where she asked me if the teacher always talked with only her bottom teeth showing. I’d confirmed, and then we whispered about where Simone had moved from and what Detroit was like whenever Mrs. Tully wasn’t paying attention, which was most of the time.

After that, Simone let me idolize her and in exchange I got to be around my hero.

Her. She was my hero.

But that glow is fading. At the hundredth reapplication of her lipstick I’m side-eyeballing her with a confused expression.

When did Simone become a human being?

I’m mourning the loss.

She climbs out first as I suck in a deep breath and slip the key into my bag, throwing my legs out of the vehicle and jumping out with my eyes down.

“Sarah! Look out!” Simone screams.

I pancake myself against the car as a Chevy truck nearly takes me out. My curly hair flies up from its proximity and speed. Panting I turn around and meet her eyes over the hood. “Jesus! That was really close.”

“Your head is up your ass tonight. Try not to get yourself killed. Please and thank you.”

She motions for me to join her and I trudge around the car with my heart pounding so badly it’s painful. I didn’t need that adrenaline rush added to my anxiety.

The door opens ahead and Jason runs out, looking fucking gorgeous in a sticky white t-shirt, jeans made for his thighs and hips, and no baseball hat. His hair is mussed up the perfect amount and my breath hitches as he locks eyes with me. “I heard your name being screamed! What happened?”

“Nothing,” Simone smiles, casting a warning look to me.

I get the silent message.

No arresting his attention from her tonight in any way, shape or form. Not even with a near-death experience.

“Nothing,” I nod, forcing my eyes to the ground as I keep walking to my own living hell.