by Jolene Perry
“Your sister will be home in a few days for Christmas Break. That’ll give us all a chance to meet him.” She pats my back and walks out of the room. “I’ll be late tonight.”
Isn’t she always?
Maybe I can talk some sense into my sister while she’s here. Christmas break in college is a whole month, so I’ll have a while to talk her out of it. Who gets married in college?
***
Alyssa and I are both on our stomachs in my room over our calculus texts. It seemed like a good idea to take this class at the beginning of the year but not so much anymore. She’s totally absorbed, which is cool, but she’s usually the one turning the music up too loud and teasing me about being so serious.
“Alyssa?”
“Yeah?” She doesn’t look up.
“We’re okay, right?” She’s been so… studious. And that’s a little weird. I mean, she’s in hard classes. She just usually floats through them. And here we are a day away from Christmas break, and plowing through another assignment.
“Yeah. I’m just… You know how spacey I can be, and I haven’t always made the best decisions. I’m just trying to get myself on track before college.” She sounds rehearsed and is still working her way through the problem I just finished.
“I still can’t believe we’re in senior year, and I can’t believe my sister thinks she’s getting married.” I blow out to get the loose strands of hair off my face.
Alyssa chuckles. “So, what else is going on tonight?”
“James is coming over in a bit.”
After the party, I was desperate to feel that tingling in my gut I felt with a total stranger, and I started something I didn’t mean to with James. When I met up with him the next day, I kissed him like I hadn’t in a long time and even slid my hands up the back of his shirt. He took that as a sign I wanted to go further, when that wasn’t completely my intention. Ever since he’s been pushing me for more, and it’s not like him. Or like us. I’m starting to miss our comfortable relationship.
“Oh. Right.” Alyssa’s eyes are practically plastered to the problem in front of her.
“Do you suddenly have a problem with James?” I realize it’s been a while since we all three hung out.
“No, why?” She scribbles out the next step in the problem she’s working through.
“I don’t know.” Mostly ‘cause she’s not looking at me, and I don’t know if I’m being paranoid or if they got in an argument or something.
“You’re funny, Ziah. It’s just senior year and busy.” She shrugs before sitting up and closing her text, but she’s also still not looking at me.
“Hey.” James stops the second he’s in my room, and his eyes go from me to Alyssa and then back to me.
“I gotta run. My parents need my babysitting skills tonight.” And Alyssa’s gone before I really have time to process her leaving.
In the next second, James’s lips are on mine.
“Hey.” I laugh as he kisses me again without giving me a chance to breathe. I want to ask him what happened between him and Alyssa, and if I’m going to have to start scheduling around their sudden dislike of each other.
“Hey.” His smile is brief before his lips are on mine again.
For the past month, every time we’re together, he wants to pick up where we left off the last time. If we left off with his hands up the back of my shirt, we’re at that place again within a few minutes of getting together. It doesn’t feel like it’s about me anymore. It feels like it’s about doing more.
His hand slides up the front of my shirt. This is something new as of a few days ago. I don’t stop him, but it doesn’t really do anything for me except make me self-conscious. What does he think about my bra? Are my boobs right? Do they feel like they’re supposed to? Is my skin being pushed or pulled in a way that makes him think I’m fat?
Now his weight is on me, and his mouth is on mine. I should be feeling something more. Like, shouldn’t I want him the way he so obviously wants me?
A horn honks outside, which almost has to mean that Lora’s here.
James groans before rolling off me. “I’ll walk you down.”
He stands and offers me a hand, which I take. His arms go around me again as he pulls me into another kiss.
“James.” I try to pull away. “My sister.”
“Okay, okay…” He clasps my hand tightly as we walk down the stairs.
He stops at the bottom and leans into me. I really just want around him and to see my sister.
“Ziah.” He puts his hands on my face.
I finally relax and look at him, realizing he wants something else before he goes. “James.”
“I love you. I just… I want to try to find some time to be with you over break.” He gives me a soft kiss.
“We’ll see each other.” I shrug and start to move around him again.
“No. You know. Alone.”
Now I get that he wants a few hours where we can fool around. I’m just not sure if I want that right now. Not for that long. “I’ll call you. It’s always busy when Lora’s in town.”
He nods as I finally step around him and out the front door. I think I preferred James when he was more like my old-man boyfriend.
Lora steps out of the passenger’s side of a sleek, black Mercedes, which is a bit unexpected. I didn’t know she’d be arriving in some overpriced, over-glamorized car. Some guy with almost black hair and striking blue eyes steps out of the driver’s side, and this is it. This is the guy. My stomach flips over, and I wish it weren’t too late to run inside and hide.
“Hey!” Lora half talks, half squeals and waves me down the stairs.
I’m frozen.
“Well, see you soon.” James kisses my cheek and runs his hand up the back of my shirt before moving toward the steps. I’m still sort of stunned that the fiancé is real.
Lora and I are almost twins. Her blonde is a shade lighter than mine, and she has Mom’s little button nose instead of Dad’s thin, straight one I got stuck with. But we’re built exactly the same and look one another in the eye. Before I can move down the steps, her and the guy and the first load of bags is on the porch.
It’s so weird that she’s here with a guy she thinks she’s going to marry. Before I can make any smart comments about how much crap he’s unloading for a simple Christmas Break visit, her arms are around me practically suffocating me. He’s back down the stairs for load number two.
James gives me a last wave and smile before climbing into his car. He’s been around long enough to know getting between me and my sister is futile.
“Nice to see you, too.” I try to laugh as she squeezes even tighter before letting me go.
“This is Derrick.” Her smile practically splits her face in half as she grabs his arm and pulls him a step closer to me. “Derrick, this is my little sister Ziah.”
Now is when we should shake. I reach my hand out, and wow does he have blue eyes. Party-boy blue.
“Great to meet you,” he says. It’s a good, firm shake—not too hard, not too soft.
“Yeah. You, too.”
Only I have no idea if it’s great or not. It’s starting to hit me. She wants this guy to be part of our family. Our family. Shouldn’t we all get a say in this? I’m not saying I want an arranged marriage, but I’m now seeing the benefits. It’s not that I don’t like him because I don’t know him. The whole marriage thing feels so irresponsible when they’re both working toward degrees.
“I think we’re all getting together for dinner tonight, so I’ll see you then. I gotta get home.” His smile is equal parts charming and sweet. Of course it is—it took something to lure my sister in. I just thought she was above falling for someone over his looks… and smile. And his handshake, though I’m pretty sure the handshake wasn’t the final sale. I’m starting to deflate further. Or maybe at this point, I’m shrinking.
Lora gives me a look like she wants me to tell her right now how awesome he is, when really all I know about
him is he drives a nice car, is strong enough to carry her bags, and is really cute.
“I guess I’ll see you then.” I tuck my hands in my back pockets, because my whole body feels sorta weird—like I don’t belong here. I’m not sure what else to do.
Lora walks him down to his car. When they kiss, they don’t come up for air for so long, it’s a little weird and makes me wish I’d stepped inside the house.
Finally he leaves, and Lora and I are on the porch with her mound of bags and her smile. It’s a toss-up as to which is bigger.
“Wow,” I say, because there really isn’t anything else to say.
“I know!” She digs into the huge bag she’s carried for the past year and sets a stack of bridal magazines between us. “This is going to be so much fun! We have like three hours before dinner, so I thought we could jump in—at least for a while.”
I’m stunned speechless because we haven’t even stepped inside yet, and it’s not exactly warm this time of year. And now there are girlie magazines on our porch.
“So. This is what I want to do.” She opens a magazine to a picture of a bride and groom underneath this elaborate trellis thing that’s covered in those pale pink roses she likes so much. It has a chandelier in the middle. A chandelier.
Derrick must be loaded because there’s no way Mom and Dad would pay for something like that. The whole thing is a little much for me. Way too girly and dramatic.
“Uh…” My thoughts can’t completely come together. Too much fiancé with blue eyes and Alyssa being weird around James and James pushing us to be together and Lora home and this guy going to be part of our family... And her bags are still on the freaking porch.
“Anything we find in all these magazines that matches up with what’s in this picture, we mark. Cool?” Her finger rests on the original photo, and the stack of magazines suddenly looks like a mountain.
“Umm….” She wants me to look for pink flowers? Or what?
“Come on.” She grabs the stack, my arm, and hauls me into the house, leaving her bags outside. “I’ll do up your favorite muffins and hot chocolate. We’ll have so much fun!”
I’m already feeling like I’m caught in this Lora vortex of wedding and new guy and James and… I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be here.
***
I’m stuffed with muffins, and all the magazines are starting to look the same. I flip a page. “Lora! You gotta see this ridiculous article.” I laugh as I slide deeper into the couch.
She primping for the engagement dinner tonight and packing a bag in case she stays over. Which means she’ll definitely stay over. After that kiss next to his car, I’m amazed she was able to be away from him for just a few hours.
“What is it?” she calls down.
“Please don’t yell in the house,” Dad asks.
I jump at the sound of his voice. My parents are so rarely home it throws me when they are. He’s reading in his oversized chair in the corner.
“Sorry.” I slump lower and glance at the article.
“Signs Your Boyfriend is Cheating.” And this in a bridal magazine? Hopefully soon-to-be brides are past this. Only as I read down, I start to get this weird, itchy feeling in my gut as I skim the short, paragraph stories.
My best friend and my boyfriend suddenly couldn’t be in the same room, and my boyfriend was acting different toward me. Turns out they hooked up at a party, and…
I’m choking. This sounds way too familiar. No. Not James and Alyssa. That would be… well, unbelievably horrible. I’m pretty sure they’re fighting about something. My fingers shake as I pull out my phone. Lora’s rummaging around behind me in the kitchen.
I start to call James, but now I’m worried about talking to him. Why would I worry about talking to James? Instead I go for non-committal. A text.
ME: TELL ME ABT U AND ALYSSA
That could reference their weird behavior without being specific. Put him in the position where he has to come up with some info.
I wait for his call. And wait. I stare at my phone. And then I get a text.
Lora kisses my head. “See ya tomorrow!”
I open my mouth to tell her to wait, but James’ message hits me like a brick, silencing me. The door slams closed behind her.
JAMES: I’M SORRY. I TOLD HER I WANTED TO BE THE ONE TO SAY SOMETHING. CAN WE TALK?
My body shakes. Lora’s gone. Dad’s behind his paper. Do I want to know everything or nothing? I jump up and start for the stairs. The first sob hits me just as I step through my bedroom door. What just happened?
Five
~Dylan~
I haven’t talked to the sellout, a.k.a., my brother, since he dropped his crazy bomb about taking the plunge into…holy matrimony. I don’t know why, but for some reason holy matrimony is easier to think than the M-word. It’s still screwed up--like something old people do. Or boring people. Or lonely people… Not a guy in college who still has all his mental faculties. Hence, temporary insanity being the only option here.
Does he remember what happened to Dad after Mom was gone? Did college wipe out his memories and what we swore to one another? I don’t get it. He’ll end up just as broken as Dad. He’s letting someone in just to risk losing them. It’s not worth getting stomped on. That’s what it feels like he’s doing to me, letting his foot come down on my head over and over, by forgetting the pact we made. What about the Gibson Boys?
My fingers tighten on the steering wheel. I’m almost home, so I turn up the music, hoping it will help me clear my head before I see him. He’s coming home for Christmas and bringing the old ball and chain with him. Guess a guy can’t spend time with his real family alone anymore.
Honestly, I don’t even know what to say when I see him. Part of me just wants to open the conversation with a punch to the head and hope it takes care of the insanity thing. Then we can skip the heart-to-heart altogether.
Maybe I can kidnap him. Drag his lame ass out of here and stage an intervention. We can go on the road and have fun, and he’ll forget he ever wanted a life sentence with his fian... fianc… I can’t even think the word.
“Damn.” I pull into my driveway and kill the engine. I’m freaking out here, and it’s kind of embarrassing. I think this girl is actually staying with us or something. We haven’t really had any girls here for longer than a few hours since Mom’s been gone. What if she starts running around the house with a towel on her head, yelling at Derrick to do this and that? And then he’ll wake up tomorrow and she’ll be gone.
Chill out, Dylan. This isn’t me. I don’t stress out like this. What’s the point? That’s what I need to try and remember now.
I climb the porch stairs. The door pulls open, and Derrick is standing there. He looks the same, just like me but older. Same black hair, same blue eyes, except mine are brighter. Girls always tell me I have nice, thick eyelashes, too. I don’t know about that, but they seem to like it. So I’m cool with it.
“About time you got your slow ass home. And don’t think I’m not pissed at you for ignoring my phone calls.” Derrick holds out an arm. I sort of want to be an ass and ignore him now, too, but I don’t. We give each other a half-hug before he moves out of the way to let me in. “I missed you, little brother.”
I push my way inside. My face is hot. My whole body is hot.
“I missed you, little brother?” My brain is yelling at my mouth to shut up, but I’ve never been good at listening to that warning. “That’s all you have to say after springing a wedding on me?”
Holy shit. I sound like parent. Or a spouse. Or a nutcase. Whatever it is, I don’t sound like Dylan, but I don’t care.
“Have you lost your mind? Or…” Damn! How did this not occur to me sooner? “You got her pregnant? You always made sure I had condoms. Wrap it or lack it remember? Forget how to use one, yourself?”
I’m lecturing my older brother. There is definitely something wrong with this picture. Again, my brain is screaming at me, but, dude… he got this girl pregnant?
Derrick holds up his hands and shakes his head. “Chill out, Dylan. You’re giving me a headache. Come on. Let’s go have a drink.”
I follow my brother through the kitchen. He grabs two sodas out of the fridge, and then we head out to the back porch.
“Dad home?” I ask him.
“Of course not,” he replies.
Funny, he can remember that but seems to forget why things are that way. He hands me the soda, which I take. “A Pepsi doesn’t make you seem any less crazy.”
I plop down in our porch chair. It’s cold as hell and a little drizzly. There’s a small puddle of water at the bottom of the stairs, and I watch as drops hit it and echo out. Why we couldn’t do this inside, I don’t know.
Derrick sits next to me. “She’s not pregnant, dumbass.” He thumps my head. I push his hand away.
“So you are crazy?”
He shakes his head and is quiet for a few seconds. He looks like he’s trying to figure out what to say, and I want to tell him just to spit it out. But before I get the chance, he opens his mouth and says, “I love her, bro. She’s awesome. You’ll like her, too.”
I scratch my neck, not sure what to say. Stupid, but I totally didn’t expect him to say that. I want him to tell me I’m right. Or that he made a mistake, or that she’s just fun or cool. Not that he loves her. He’s dumb to risk loving anyone.
“Yeah, I’m sure she’s cool. It’s one thing to like a girl. I like a lot of girls. It’s one thing to think she’s cool, but married? Are you that whipped? Where’s your collar?” I try to make light of the moment when I really feel like I’m going to explode.
Derrick’s voice is tense when he says, “Watch it. I can still kick your ass and don’t think I won’t.”
Crossing my arms, I look away from him. I can’t believe he’s doing this. I can’t believe he’s bailing on us. On me. “What about the pact?” I finally ask. “We always said it was the Gibson Boys. That we wouldn’t let a girl come between us.”
