Tessa

“Shit.” I bolt upright, blanket flying across the bed. “Shit, shit, shit,” I continue, fumbling over the mattress in search of even one article of clothing.

“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t start the morning after like that again,” he mumbles, his arm reaching blindly for any part of my body. As soon as it catches on my thigh, he jerks it backward, tossing me back into the bed beside him. Grinning, his face surfaces from the plush white pillow it was buried in. “Good morning.” He completely interrupts my efforts to race out of here and plants a kiss firmly on my lips. I’m not even mad. Good God, the man is even more gorgeous first thing in the morning. I missed this last time around.

“Hi.” Hi? Who says hi after you’ve spent the night together. We woke up, we weren’t reunited after spending a great deal of time apart. Never mind. Not important. “I’m late!”

I jump up a second time facing only slightly less opposition from him. “Which class?” He asks as his hand moves to wind itself around my ankle, then slowly up my calf.

“Not class. I’m meeting Riley. We only get to see each other once a month, and this is it. I can’t miss it!” I scramble out of his grip a second time and make it out the bed for good.

“Wait, who’s Riley?”

I pause, staring around the room blankly as his question and my current mission collide in my warbled, morning brain. “My sister.”

“You have a sister?”

“Uh-huh. And four brothers.” I grin sheepishly. “Probably could have mentioned that last night during the sibling chat, huh?”

“Probably.” He grins back at me and I have no choice but to launch myself back in his direction for another brief morning make out sesh.

“Seriously,” I mumble, tearing myself away from him yet again, “I gotta go.”

It takes a thirty second dash around the room to collect my clothes which wound up in an impressive variety of locations, before I circle back around to him and smack his lips with mine in a hurry one last time. “No regrets, just running late – swear!” Then I run from the room, hopping part of the way on one leg while I struggle to get on some pants and attempt to get dressed before reaching the front door. I need to get on the road, and I don’t have a car here to do it in. Which leaves only one option. Drea.

Still shirtless, I bundle the material to my chest and race across the hall to her apartment, letting myself in and making a beeline for her bedroom where I proceed to accidentally flash Scott once I’m inside.

“Found her!” he yells over his shoulder toward the bathroom. Then cringes. “God, way too much of her.”

I notice too late, the material covering my breasts has shifted some. “It’s a boob, Scott. Smaller, but not that unlike Drea’s,” I grumble, shooting him a dirty look for extra satisfaction on my way to her bathroom, slipping the shirt on over my head as I go.

She’s barely out of the shower, but that doesn’t stop her from marching her wet feet over to meet me at the sink where I’m busy chugging her mouthwash.

“Cara said a guy attacked you last night!”

“When did you talk to Cara?” I slip past her outstretched, flailing arms and wind up nearly crawling to avoid getting hit on my way out of the bathroom to safer space.

“When you didn’t come home last night, and I called her.” Her arms cross firmly over her chest now.

I search her closet for a pair of flip-flops. I forgot shoes in my whirlwind exit. “Oh, right.”

“Oh, right?! Are you freaking kidding me?” Arms return their dramatic dance in the air as she lunges forward, and I duck.

“Drea! I love you and the fact that you were worried about me, though I think we both know you concluded I was safe once you finished talking to Cara –but right now, I have to go meet Riles and I need to borrow your car to do that. Please.”

“Why? Where’s your car. And also, when did you come home? I thought I heard you, but when I went to check on you, your room was empty so it was two-timing McMichael I heard, not you.”

“My car is at the club. I got a ride home last night after all that craziness.” I purposely avoid answering her second question, though I know it’ll be pointless in the long run.

“Fine,” she huffs, marching up beside me, hair still wet, but fully clothed. “I’ll drive.” She swipes her keys from the bowl on her dresser and heads for the front door, holding it open when she gets to it. “After you.”

I don’t have time to argue or tell her the list of reasons I’ve mentally accumulated over the last three minutes why she’s insane, so I lead the way outside and keep walking until I reach her Jetta in the parking lot. It’s not locked. It never is, so I’m in my seat and buckled before she even opens the driver’s side door.

“Can we add a little hustle to the bustle this morning? You know I don’t have much time on my breakfast dates with Riley.”

“Something you might have considered before staying out all night and making me crazy with worry,” she sneers putting her key in the ignition and starting up the car at last. I guess not answering her question about my whereabouts mostly just led her to conjure up her own theories. “Where did you wind up anyway?”

“Um, wind up?” I kind of thought that part was obvious, in fact, I figured it’s why she’s so agitated, but if she hasn’t connected the dots, I don’t think I’m going to do it for her.

“Tessa! You’re wearing the same outfit you wore yesterday, it’s pretty damn clear you haven’t been home since.”

“You know, you’ve been on me for days to go out and get some action, and now that I follow your advice, you’re acting like a crazy lady.”

Slowly, her stern expression morphs into a sly one. “You dirty bird. You finally hooked up with Casey!” She smacks both palms into her steering wheel in a very triumphant sort of way. “I knew it! Cara said some super-hot guy showed up and saved the day, and I just had a feeling it was him. Then you didn’t come home...ugh, I was so right about you two! I don’t know why you were so set on ending things early the first night.”

I sigh, dropping my head back against the seat. We’re on the road, and Drea may not be mad at me like I initially assumed, but she still drives like a maniac, so I’m not all too keen on bursting her bubble at the moment. Plus, with her as my chauffeur I may wind up arriving early when all is said and done and that’s a bonus I’m not willing to sacrifice this morning.

“Are you going to see him again?” Her eyes are glued to the road but somehow, I can still feel the boring look of curiosity she’s intending to give me.

I decide that him could mean anyone...could mean Lane. So, “Yep.”

“Good! And make sure you invite him over. Let your stupid professor see what it looks like when a guy is treating you the right way.” She nods, as if she’s confirming her own words of wisdom to herself.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to be inviting anyone over. There’s really no reason to overcomplicate things. We’re just...having fun.”

Drea turns toward me, eyeing me skeptically. “Fun is fine. Let Lane see that then.”

“Why?” I really don’t get what her obsession is with rubbing my pretend hook up with Casey in Lane’s face.

“Because, I want to make damn sure he knows to keep his distance. It’s bad enough you’re stuck with him all year. The more he’s reminded that having you close by is not the same as ‘having you’, the better.”

“You don’t think you’re being a little dramatic?”

Her ranting face turns from fired up to serious. “No. I’m not. I don’t want him to hurt you again. Not after everything you’ve already been through,” she admits quietly. “And after what happened the other night, I just want to make sure he doesn’t try anything else.”

“I know.” I fold my hands in my lap and stare at my palms, shame slowly seeping in at last. I don’t know what’s worse, lying to her or accepting there’s a possibility of truth in the things she’s saying. “But it’s okay. I’m okay. And Lane...it’s not going to be a problem. Trust me. I really don’t think he’s as bad as you think.”

She shrugs, clearly unwilling to admit she’s wrong about him. “Tessa, he was using you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry, but it’s the truth and you know it. He barely knows you and yet he was willing to totally jeopardize his career to be with you? It’s bullshit. Whatever brought him here can’t be anything short of some self-destructive act to be as reckless as possible. Why else would he be so quick to jump into bed with you – had to have been more than just your run of the mill horniness given he slept with Jules right before he made a move on you! And this whole risking living with you in the first place? I mean, I love you, but let’s face it, you don’t exactly make it easy for people to get close to you.  And if he’s not in it because he cares, which clearly, he couldn’t, you’ll just wind up nothing but collateral damage along the way to his career suicide.”

My hands move up along my elbows in a less comforting and more self-pitying self-hug. “Damn, Drea. Thanks for that. I’m glad the person who’s known me longest finds me so utterly impossible to love. It’s filling me with all sorts of warm and fuzzy feelings.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

I don’t know that. I don’t know that at all. Because everything she just said plays on repeat in my mind twenty-four seven three hundred and sixty-five days a year, every year from the time I was twelve and not a single member of my immediate family lifted so much as a finger to hold onto me. It plays non-stop, a quiet murmur of hate I can never turn off, but have somehow learned to tune out from time to time. Until last night. Last night for the first time in as long as I can remember, the words were silent. An absence of self-doubt left room for new feelings to fill me up. Unsteady feelings. Feelings that weren’t nearly strong enough to withstand Drea’s reality check. Not love. Nothing even comparable to love. But something else. Something that made me feel wanted, just for me.

“It’s fine. I get it.” I can see the diner up ahead. This ride is almost over. And I’m going to be on time. Silver lining. It’s always there.

“It’s out of love, Tessa,” Drea tries one last time as she pulls into the parking lot.

“Yep.” I open the door, desperate to escape the car which suddenly feels a lot like a tiny tin can designed to suffocate you. “Thanks for the ride.”  I move to shut the door and pause, leaning back in, “Don’t worry about picking me up. Campus isn’t too far. I’ll just walk.”

“Tessa...”

I close the door and turn toward the diner. One mountain climbed, another to go.

It’s senior citizen central when I step inside. It always is. Between the early crack of dawn hours and the near proximity to at least three assisted living facilities I can name just off the top of my head, it’s no surprise.

“Two?” The hostess smiles. Guess she’s getting used to our schedule.

“Yes, please.” Normally I request a booth, but I have a feeling she remembers that as well.

Before long I’m sitting in the back of the restaurant, near the restrooms, staring at a menu I learned inside out at least three months ago while a selective stream of random words replays itself inside my head, taking me to down further with each spiraling hateful cycle.

“Hey,” a quiet squeak of a voice draws my eyes upward. Riley.

“Hey, you.” I hug her tight until I’ve suffocated the swirl of anxiety that’s been rising in my chest since I got here. Riley doesn’t need to see me cry. We’re just barely rebuilding our relationship, and I’m the big sister. It’s my job to hold my shit together. So, I put on a smile and force the light back to my eyes knowing it will disguise the sheen of tears still lingering, threatening silently to be shed.

“You look good, are you good?” I ramble, stumbling my way into some sort of conversation with her. It still isn’t easy or natural, but I’m holding out hope we’ll get there as long as we both keep showing up.

“I’m fine,” she mumbles picking up the menu. She’ll order French Toast. She always does. The menu perusing is simply a means to an end. Getting me to shut up.

I inhale deeply until I can feel the air push out against my belly button and remind myself that she’s a teenager and we’re all assholes at that age. “Get your learner’s permit yet?” I ask, trying to venture my way into a topic she’ll find interesting.

“I did.” She sets down the menu. A good sign. “I don’t get to use it much though. Maybe you could help me practice sometime?” she asks hopefully. She doesn’t need to elaborate on the obstacles keeping her from driving. Last I heard, our mother had her license permanently revoked, so she’s not in any position to take Riles cruising around.

“Sure. Maybe we’ll skip breakfast next month and have a little driving session instead.” I smile. I know I had to sweeten the pot for her to warm up a bit, but I don’t blame her. Most days I think she had it hardest out of all of us, being stuck with our mother for the long haul. A little mistrust is to be expected, even amongst siblings, when you can’t even count on your own mother to be honest with you.

“For real? Like, you’d let me drive for like a whole hour?” The excitement is shrouded in doubt, like a girl who’s learned never to count her chickens before they hatch.

“For real. Like, a whole hour,” I tell her, grinning, because I’m not sixteen and I, like, seriously, don’t talk like that.

She claps her hand together as if she’s giving a miniature round of applause to life in general. “Oh my God, it’s going to be so awesome!”

“Good.” I nod, satisfied with my efforts. “Now then, can we finally order some freaking food. I’m starving.” I am. In an empty pit for a stomach sort of way. Just hadn’t noticed before thanks to the surge of adrenaline and nauseating emotions running rampant in my system all morning.

“Yes, please.” She giggles. It’s the best thing I’ve heard all morning. Well, almost. Maybe it’s tied for best thing. Guilt fills my empty pit and hunger wanes again. It’s wrong to be thinking about him, here with her. Right? He shouldn’t warrant enough of my attention to distract me from my breakfast date with Riley.

“I think I’m going to order pancakes,” Riley blurts, interrupting my self-loathing.

“That seems a little drastic, no?” I laugh, not sure where the sudden desire to sway from her tried and true French Toast is coming from.

“I think it’s time for a little change. Also, you look like something’s up. But I’m not insightful and selfless yet, so I don’t know how to smoothly go where you’re not going without making drastic pancake eating announcements,” she explains, folding her hands on the table.

“Nothing is up,” I assure her. “And please don’t feel like you need to give up French Toast on my account. I’m pretty fond of blunt and straightforward. Believe me, when I’m not trying to be extra tactful with you, it’s my go-to approach for tackling conversations.”

“Oh, alright then.” She leans forward. “Cut the shit, what’s going on?”

I nearly bust out laughing. “Well, if you must know...I’m sleeping with a really hot guy I have no business sleeping with...because he’s my professor.”

Her eyes light up. “Continue.”

I lean back into the booth, smirking. “I would, but I made him swear we wouldn’t tell other people, so, you know. Can’t.”

She gapes at me. “Totally unfair.”

“I know.” I pull my phone from my pocket. “Wanna see a picture?”

A wicked flash of mischief flares in her big eyes. “Uh-huh.”

I pull up one of Jules’ fifty thousand social media pages. Given the whole phone debacle, I know damn well she’s posted pictures from the other night and we all know Lane will have been the star in every single shot.

“Here.” I hand her my phone when I find a picture where Jules isn’t trying to dry-hump him.

“Damn.”

“Right?!”

She ogles him a little more until our server shows up and we finally get around to ordering. After that, the conversation takes a more age appropriate turn and by the time breakfast is over, I’m feeling a renewed sense of hope we may actually feel like real sisters again someday.

Lane

Classes drag on forever today and more than once, I catch myself searching for her anytime I move across campus. She doesn’t land in any of her usual spots all day, and by the time I leave, I can’t help but wonder if she’s avoiding me after all.

I’m halfway home when my phone rings.

“Where are you?” Alexis yells into my ear.

“In my car. Why are you shouting?”

“Oh, sorry.” There’s a click in the line and the next time she speaks, the volume is back to normal. “I had it turned up while I was out running and talking to Jeff.” Her husband, the most boring guy I’ve ever known, until he’s around my sister. It’s like she’s the switch that turns him on. It’s weird and fascinating all at the same time.

“Well, now that you’re not trying to kill my sense of hearing, want to tell me why you’re checking in on my whereabouts?” I ask, pulling up to the intersection which will take me home but having a twin sense, I have a feeling I’ll be turning in the other direction.

“I’m on my way over to your house. Meet me there,” she demands in typical Alexis fashion.

“If by my house you mean the place I’m pretending the ocean washed away, you’re on your own. I’m not going there.” She has about three seconds before the light turns and I’m heading to my apartment, ending this conversation for good.

“Stop being so stubborn. I have a plan. A good plan. But I want to tell you about it in person. At the place the ocean washed away...you know, in imaginary land.”

She’s being vague and condescending, two things she knows will push my buttons faster than just about anything.

“Fine.” I sigh, flipping my signal off and pulling back into the other lane to make a right turn instead of left. “I’ll see you in a few.”

“Perfect!” Then she hangs up. I can still hear her smugness ringing loudly in my ear when I make the turn and head for the ocean, silently wondering if I want to pretend it will come and wash her away as well.