Three Strikes (Four of a Kind Book 3)

by Kellie Bean

  "We do, all the time," I point out. It's not quite true, but there have always been at least a couple days a week where there's just no way we're able to hang out.

  "Sure you do."

  "Come on, Reagan," I plead, hating that she's been hurting this whole time and hasn't said anything to me. "Please don't be mad. I know she was your friend first, but we've really tried to make sure she hasn't ditched you guys or anything."

  "What? You think I'm mad at you because you started spending time with one of my friends?" Reagan blinks, startled. "Seriously?"

  It's my turn to be confused. Is that not what we're fighting about?

  "Yes?"

  “No!" Reagan throws her hands up, covering her face as she shakes her head dramatically. "I'm mad, no, annoyed, at Rosie for stealing all my time with you! Not the other way around. I've barely seen you this summer. It's like I've lost my sister to my friend since you two are always running around together."

  Oh.

  I search my brain, trying to figure out if she's right. I still see her every day. I have been around less, but so has she. It doesn't take me long to realize it doesn't matter if she's right, it matters how she feels. I still wish she'd said something sooner, but at least now I can try and make it better.

  "I'm sorry." It's the best start I have. "I didn't realize..."

  It had never occurred to me that it wasn't going to be Rosie's time Reagan got jealous of, but mine.

  "You're still one third of my best friend, this hasn't changed that."

  "I know." Reagan's face takes on a silly grimace, like she's appalled I'd ever even suggest otherwise. "You're never getting rid of me. I just...I miss you."

  "Did you want to do something today?" I ask. "I can tell Rosie something came up, no problem. She'll totally understand."

  Ray shakes her head. "Maybe the three of us could do something though. To get us out of this house and out of volunteering-to-help range?" she asks.

  "Yes!" I agree right away.

  Rosie and I had planned on either spending the day at her house or giving in to the inevitable and helping out my sisters, but this sounds way better.

  This feels like acceptance.

  CHAPTER SIX

  "Ahem."

  Someone coughs behind me, pulling me away from the endless text thread that Rosie and I have been adding to every few minutes. Putting down my phone, I swivel in place on my bed to find Reece standing near my dresser. It's not even her room anymore, but she still has no problem letting herself in.

  "What's up?" I ask, smiling away any hint of annoyance.

  My sister is practically glowing, her smile is so wide.

  "I had sex!"

  I blink. Reece blinks, still grinning. Reagan runs into the room through the bathroom.

  "What!?"

  Reece's head bobs up and down, sending her blonde hair swishing around her shoulder.

  "Just now?" I ask, looking around, still kind of bewildered.

  "Nope. Like a week ago. John wanted us to have some time where only we knew before everyone else got the update. And by everyone else, I just mean you guys. At first, he didn't want me to tell anyone at all, but I told him there was no way I could keep this from you guys. It's my secret too, so he came around...eventually." Reece is practically beaming.

  My mind spins as Reece continues to chatter about what they had for lunch on the day before they did the deed. She's nervous, I realize. For all her excitement and enthusiasm, she's worried about what we're going to think. I'm not sure why; it's not like we didn't all know this was coming eventually.

  Should I have known it was coming this soon? I'm feeling blindsided, but not by Reece's news. Usually, when big things happen in our lives there are signs, hints. Sometimes we don't even need to tell one another what it is we're thinking. I guess this was always something Reece was going to do without checking in with family first. This has nothing to do with us.

  "Congratulations?" Reagan says, once Reece finally takes a breath.

  "You know, I really thought you and Kent would do it first. I mean you've been dating way longer than we have."

  Reagan shrugs and looks down at her feet.

  "We're waiting."

  It's the same explanation she's given every time someone—okay, only Reece—has asked. It's all the explanation I've ever needed.

  "Have you told Rhi?" I ask, a little surprised that Reece hadn't gathered us all in one place to make her big announcement.

  "Not yet. I probably should, hmm? I just couldn't wait. I think she went out with Mom and Dad. Back to school stuff."

  I was the one she wanted to tell first. That's actually kind of sweet of her.

  "Hey!" Reagan says, sounding a little hurt. "I was home. You didn't bother to come get me."

  Reece tilts her head downward, only a little sheepish. "I knew you'd hear me."

  I don't believe her, so odds are Reagan doesn’t either, but the last thing any of us wants is for this to devolve into a fight. This is a big deal!

  "Alright," I say, keeping my tone light, "So how much detail are we supposed to ask for here?"

  Ray makes a face, retreating a step into the bathroom.

  "Eww, none."

  Reece rolls her eyes. "Grow up."

  How is it they're fighting the same way they always have since they were five, except now we're talking about sex? For just a second, it hits me. Reece had sex, and we're about to be seniors. At some point the rest of us will lose our virginity too. Although, I still haven't figured out exactly what that means for me. Then, we'll all move away. I might not even notice the last time it feels like it does right now, like we're all still in this together, even when we can't all get along.

  Ten years seems to pass in the span of a heartbeat, my sisters and I growing farther apart by the second. However, we're not there yet–we still have a few firsts left to get through together before I have to start worrying about lasts.

  "Are you guys hungry?" I ask, hopefully cutting off any more bickering. "We've probably still got a few minutes before everyone else gets back. Come downstairs, I'll make pancakes. You can tell us whatever you want to share."

  My glance shifts from Reece to Reagan, raising my eyebrows and hopefully warning her not to push.

  Lucky for me, pancakes are enough of a distraction for a cease fire.

  I don't see much of Reece for the next few weeks; then again, I don't see much of anyone other than Rosie. The end of summer is looming over us, along with all of the pressures that we've been warned will come with the last year of high school. Right now, for today and tomorrow, and as many days as I can get away with, I'm happy to put the future off for at least a little longer.

  Rosie and I are sitting in her living room, surrounded by stacks of old tabloid magazines and an eclectic collection of furniture. Rosie's feet lay across my lap, and one of her hands intertwines with mine. I'm doing my best to enjoy the experience. Instead, I'm hyper aware of the fact that her dad is sitting in the kitchen, with only a half-height wall separating us. Her dad, who barely said hello to me when I came in. Her dad, who Rosie says refuses to acknowledge anything to do with our relationship.

  Now, Rosie is refusing to acknowledge his refusal right back at him, and I'm doing my best to go along with it. I don't want to be a part of ripping Rosie's family any farther apart than they already are. Even more than that, I don't want to be the reason that someone Rosie loves does anything to hurt her. So for now, I just get to enjoy being near her.

  "So..." I say, bracing myself as the cop drama rerun we've been watching flips to commercial, "Have you figured out where you're going to be applying?"

  It's the one big subject that we've somehow managed to skirt around all summer, never quite bringing it up. Now, I'm trying—really, trying—not to let myself get caught up in what Rosie's answers might mean for us.

  Rosie's eyes leave the screen and find my face. It feels like she can see right through the encouraging smile I'm wearing. She squeezes my han
d and my heart stops for a moment before returning to something close to a normal rhythm. Whatever I'm feeling, she gets it.

  "TBD," she answers. "I'm still working through the list of schools with the best fine arts programs. My goal is probably to apply big, hoping for the best in terms of scholarships. I also have some backups that I might have a chance of covering with loans or whatever, since there's no way we'll be able to afford it on our own." She glances around her dad's house, like she's offering some kind of explanation.

  "So, just art schools then?" I ask, though I'm not really surprised.

  It's hard to imagine Rosie anywhere where she wouldn’t have a paintbrush in her hand, or a stick of charcoal tucked behind her ear. Whatever school she ends up at, they will be lucky to have her.

  "Of course! I mean, I know I should really be working on beefing up my portfolio, but every time I try to start, I end up doing anything else. It's a problem." she sighs.

  "You'll get there. You've already got some amazing stuff that I'm sure professors everywhere will fall in love with." It's my turn to squeeze her hand, hoping I can transfer over some of my unwavering confidence in how incredible her work is.

  "What about you? Do you have a dream school you've been imagining yourself at for years already?"

  "Nope. Although, Rhiannon's got lists of ideas for all of us, not just her. I should probably have a look at it. I feel like I'll probably stay local."

  "At least we live in the right quarter of the country for most of the art programs. Hopefully we'll both end up somewhere within driving difference of one another."

  A smile forms on my face immediately. She still sees us being together a year from now! Maybe more. She wants to still see me when we're away at school. Even better! I do my best to play it cool, but I can't seem to wrestle the grin from my face.

  "I probably won't be aiming for any art programs," I say.

  Right away, Rosie's own shy smile disappears.

  "I mean, I still want to be able to see you all the time!" I quickly add, worried I've somehow said the wrong thing.

  "You're just giving up? You aren't going to work on your drawing after this year?"

  "I am," I say slowly, trying to figure out what exactly upset her.

  Honestly, I'm surprised that she's surprised, and more than a little embarrassed about what I have to say next. "I mean, I'd love to go somewhere that has art electives, try some new styles and all of that. I'm definitely not good enough to really make anything of it, and I'm okay with that. I'll find something else."

  "What are you talking about!?" Rosie sits up a little straighter, angling herself to face me. "The pencil sketches you've been doing have been so good! Hands aren't easy for anyone, and yours are way better than the smudgy messes I can pull off."

  "I don't know, I think I'd be okay studying something else. Doing something where I get to work with people could be a lot of fun, and really, the odds of getting a job doing something artsy aren’t—"

  "I hate that excuse!" Rosie said, letting go of my hand, and bringing both her fists up to her face in frustration as a few dark strands of hair fall in front of her eyes. "There are more jobs for artists than ever! More books, more advertisements, and a crazy amount of digital stuff. CGI, special effects, animation!"

  I know Rosie's trying to get me as excited as she is, but I'm not sure I see things the same way she does. Yeah, there are a lot of jobs, I just don't know if any of them are right for me.

  "I don't know how to do anything digitally. I don't know how to do anything beyond sketching in my notebook, or playing around with paints in class."

  "That's why you go to school. So you can learn that kind of stuff." Rosie raises an eyebrow, challenging me.

  She's not wrong, and I know it. It's more complicated than that. I don't know what I want to do with the rest of my life yet, which is terrifying on its own. For me, drawing and creating have always been my escape. It's fun for me, and I like it that way. Maybe I just never really considered that I could do something fun with the rest of my life.

  Rosie's still watching me expectantly. I don't really know how to respond. I've got to say something!

  "Thankfully, we still have time to think about all of this. To figure stuff out."

  "Just promise me you'll think about it?" Rosie asks. "I mean, how cool would it be if we ended up at the same school? Maybe they'll let us be roommates!" She gives me the quickest of winks and suddenly my heart is in my throat. The moment passes quickly as Rosie reaches for my hand again.

  "You will think about it, right?"

  "I can do that." I should probably be considering all of my options anyway.

  Right away, Rosie's smile is back, so I have no regrets.

  If the idea of seeing more of me makes this gorgeous girl this happy, considering the possibility is the very least I can do.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The first day of senior year also happens to be the first day that I really get to enjoy one of the biggest benefits of having my own room. If any of my sisters decided to set their alarms way earlier than they needed to in order to spend a ton of time getting ready, I don't have to know about it.

  My own alarm goes off at the same time it had every morning last year, which still gives me plenty of time to do my hair and makeup. Since Reagan usually throws her own look together about five minutes before it’s time to leave, I also have the luxury of getting my bathroom to myself.

  As soon as I start drying my hair while watching myself in the mirror, I can't help but wish I'd given myself more time. My hair is determined to part in any direction other than the one I want it to go in, while two mountain-sized zits have taken up residence on my chin.

  Even in my favorite jeans with an off-the-shoulder daisy printed top I got over the summer, I still feel gross. The more I think about it, the more certain I am that there are going to be way more eyes on me than usual. Maybe as many as my first day at Fairview two years ago. This time,it's not going to be me and my sisters that people are looking at. It’s me and Rosie.

  Reece has promised me that no one she knows has been weird about it at all, but then again, she's also made it perfectly clear that my new girlfriend and I are officially the school's most interesting couple. Which still feels weird to me.

  My phone buzzes from the counter, giving me an excuse to abandon my hairdryer for a chance to regroup.

  Rosie: What time are you going to get to school?

  Reilly: Knowing Ray, five minutes before the bell.

  Rosie: Wake her up! I want to see you!

  Reilly: Is everything okay?

  Rosie: Yup! Just miss you!

  Reilly: You saw me yesterday...

  I pause before hitting send. I’m tempted to share my worries with Rosie, but either she's already totally aware of what we're in for, or she hasn't thought about it, not needing to be extra nervous. I don't need to put that on her too. So, I quickly add in a line about promising to get in as soon as I can, hitting send and calling it a day. Once I see Rosie, I'll feel better. With that sorted, I realize I'm also going to need a little more help than my usual mascara and lip gloss combo to feel brave.

  The stairs creak as I make my way up to the attic. I can already hear my sisters talking upstairs. Rhiannon has always been an early morning person, but in the last little while, she's managed to convert Reece as well. I find them both in the bathroom; Reece is still putting on her makeup, but otherwise, they both look about ready to take on the world. Reece looks about the same—and as awesome—as she usually does. She could tie her hair up and run a mile at a moment's notice.

  Rhiannon is a different story. She looks like a freaking rock star. Her black jeans match the short cropped jacket she's wearing, teamed with a jewel toned purple tank top. Long earrings dangle down to her shoulders, drawing my eye up to an intricate hair-do that I know she's been practicing for months.

  It’s not either of those things that pique my interest most; it's her face and her feet that have me d
oing a double take. She's chosen a deep red lipstick, red, and short black heels to finish off the outfit.

  "Rhi, you look incredible," I say as soon as she sees me approaching. "I came up here because I was feeling shluby and gross. Now I feel more like a bridge troll."

  "One, thank you. Two, don't talk about my sister like that. There are no trolls here. Unless you count the way Reece smells after soccer practice."

  My other sister grunts, kicking her leg out behind her until she makes contact with Rhi's knee, never once breaking her concentration as she blends out her eyeshadow.

  "Everything okay?" Rhiannon asks, still looking at me.

  That's all it takes for me to crack and explain everything I've been worry about for the last week. Doubly so since I rolled out of bed today. Every insecurity bubbles up to spill out of my mouth, which even manages to draw Reece away from her own reflection long enough for her to help attempt to reassure me. It helps. A little.

  While Reece is always ready with a pep talk, Rhiannon will forever be the first of my sisters to jump in with an actual plan. I'm only a little nervous as I sit down on the closed toilet seat, letting my sister work her magic. Apparently, waking up early means there's always a little extra time for an impromptu makeover.

  At least, that's what I think she's doing.

  Rhiannon flutters around in front of my face, ordering me to open and shut my eyes, look up then look down, blot. She spends a few minutes on my hair, then just as much time again working over each spot on my chin with concealer, giving me an up close and personal view of her own flawless skin. She looks so much like me, but at the same time, so little like me. It's almost like staring through the looking glass into an alternate dimension of what could have been.

  She steps back just as our dad calls up the stairs to make sure everyone is up and moving, sending Reece scrambling downstairs for food. I'm holding my breath as I get up, bracing myself to look in the mirror. Rhi looks gorgeous, but her look is way too intense for me.

  When I see myself, I can't help but grin. There's no dramatic colors or intense eyeliner. I look like me, only better. I love it!