Three Strikes (Four of a Kind Book 3)

by Kellie Bean

  I look up at the door just as my parents sneak past and retreat to their room, probably to give Reece and John a little more privacy.

  "I should go see if I can..." I finish my sentence early, well aware that getting involved would not be the right move.

  I hate when people fight. It's our birthday too. Today was supposed to be perfect.

  My sisters and I stand around in silence for a few minutes longer. Only a few snippets of whatever is happening downstairs are loud enough to reach us. I'm doing my best not to listen in, shutting the door to Reagan's room when I think I hear the sound of someone crying. The extra barrier isn't loud enough to mask the sound of the front door slamming. My whole body flinches.

  "Do you think they left?" I whisper.

  A second later, Reagan's door flies open and Reece barrels inside, her face streaked with tears.

  "I couldn't do it anymore."

  My eyes grow wide as my stomach rolls. Watching my sister, I search for any sign that I've misunderstood. She's crying openly now, soundlessly curling herself into Reagan's bed. Like magnets, the rest of us follow her, somehow managing to fit onto the twin mattress.

  I have no idea what to say, so I settle for rubbing Reece's back over the silky smooth fabric of her favorite blue top-the shirt she chose when she thought she was going to be having yet another awesome birthday.

  More than anything, I wish I could do something to make this better, to cheer her up. Over the next hour, any attempt to get Reece talking is shut down immediately. She's not ready. She asks us not to leave either, she doesn't want to be alone. So I don't leave her side.

  I must have fallen asleep, because I wake up to Reagan nudging me in the side. My eyes blink a few times before they're ready to function again. From the sound of her breathing, it sounds like Reece fell asleep beside me. Reagan's looking at me, and I'm not sure what she needs. I tilt my head, trying to ask the question without risking waking Reece.

  Reagan holds her phone out to me, letting me read the screen.

  Rosie: Is everything okay? I've been trying to get a hold of Reilly for like an hour now, she's not picking up. I'm kind of freaking out here.

  Rosie...

  CHAPTER NINE

  I run to the park where I was supposed to meet Rosie as fast as my legs will carry me. By the time I make it, it's nearly dark outside. I feel like a sweaty mess, but I have to find her.

  It had taken me almost five minutes of running around the house in a panic to find where I'd left my phone. Rosie hadn't answered any of my texts since then.

  I reach the bench where we'd planned to meet, but there's no one else here.

  I've already missed her.

  For the third time that night, I try calling. The phone rings once, then again.

  She isn't going to answer me. Not this time.

  Moving in a slow circle, still listening to the hollow ringtone through my phone, I search the park with my eyes, with my heart.

  How long had she waited before giving up on me?

  Just as I'm about to collapse onto the bench to cry as readily as Reece had earlier, I see her. Or I see her back, retreating down the street from the opposite end of the large green space in the heart of Fairview. In the din of the evening, it probably should be hard to make out exactly what I'm seeing. I'd know her black hair, tied in up in a ponytail, or her dark blue jacket anywhere.

  With an extra surge of energy I never would have guessed I had, I push forward again, only pausing for half a second as I dart across the street at the end of the park. By the time I make it across, Rosie had rounded the corner onto Piece Street almost a full minute ago. I'm already trying to remember the fastest path from the park to her mom's house when I turn the corner, my legs still moving as fast as they can.

  I nearly crash right into her.

  "I didn't think you could move that fast," Rosie says, eyebrows raised in alarm as she takes a step back.

  Catching my breath, all I can manage is to stare at her, openmouthed. There's a small chance I'm about to pass out.

  "You're here!" I say once I can talk again.

  "Yeah. You were supposed to be too." Rosie's expression is completely blank. In theory, completely unreadable. In reality, it's an easy guess at what she's feeling.

  Pissed. Angry. Hurt.

  All because I let her down.

  "I was so worried, Reilly. I thought something had happened to you."

  "Reece—" As soon as I start talking, Rosie cuts me off.

  "Reagan already explained. Or she tried to. She bent over backwards trying to explain. I get it. I get that your sister was hurting, and you needed to be there for her, Reilly. What about me though? I really do understand that things come up. But sometimes you get this tunnel vision. Like, it never even crossed your mind to call me, Reilly. What am I supposed to take away from that?"

  My lip quivers. I bite down on it to make it stop. I'm the one that screwed up here. Devolving into a crying mess wouldn't be fair to Rosie, but when I try to take a breath to calm myself down, the air rattles through my throat.

  I will not cry. I won't!

  "I'm so sorry, Rosie. Please..." Please what? I think to myself, the tone in my head more than a little mocking. Please ignore the fact that you have the world's worst girlfriend? No.

  I don't know what to say to make this better. Rosie is still staring at me, waiting.

  What makes it all worse, she looks amazing. She's obviously put a lot of work into looking good tonight. For me. And I left her waiting on her own.

  "I'm so sorry," I say again. There's no excuse. It's all I've got.

  "About what? About that time you ditched me after I came out to my mom? About having to reschedule my birthday surprise so you could sit around your house with your sisters only to then what... forget about me again?"

  Despite how easy it would be to put enough bite behind each of her accusations to rip me in two, Rosie sounds more tired than angry. "Do you even want this, Reilly? Do you even want me?"

  I'm nodding before she even finishes talking. "Of course. More than anything! I was looking forward to this more than anything today." Without thinking, I reach out to grab Rosie's hand, but she pulls away before I can reach her.

  "It doesn't feel like that. There's always someone else you want to be with more."

  “They needed me! Reece..." Everything I try to come up with sounds pathetic. "It's not that I don't want to be with you, I just—"

  Rosie shakes her head, slow and resigned. "You don't know how to walk away from someone who needs your help. That's one of the things I... It's what makes you special. I get that helping other people is a part of who you are, but what about what you want? What about me?"

  Under the harsh glare of the streetlamp overhead, I make out the slightest quiver around Rosie's mouth.

  I'm not the only one trying not to cry. If I can't manage that much, I at least have to try and fix this, to take back some of the hurt I've caused.

  "I'm sorry," I start, because I really can't say it enough. "I screwed up. That night with your mom, I think about it all the time."

  Rosie waves a hand, like she's pushing a stray thought aside. "Forget about that. Forget everything before tonight. What happened?"

  "Reece started crying. It was like I could feel what she was feeling. She was hurting, so I wanted to make it better. Everything else just disappeared. I needed to help. I'm so sorry."

  How many apologies does it take for the words to stop sounding real?

  The two of us stand there in silence for what feels like eternity, before the tension in Rosie's shoulders seems to melt away. Whatever she was considering, she's made up her mind.

  Is tonight going to be the night I lose everything? Some birthday for the Donovan sisters.

  "This can't keep happening, Rye. I don't know how to keep doing this."

  There it is. She's done. She's leaving me.

  She'll probably be better off for it.

  "You're right. I understand.
Look, I'll stay out of your way. It'll be like I never existed. Except for Reagan, I guess you're stuck seeing her. Although, I can ask if she wouldn't mind giving you some distance for a while, so you don't have to look at anyone who looks like me."

  Rosie's head tilts sideways. "What!?"

  "I swear, this will be the world’s easiest breakup. Whatever you need, I'll give it to you." Like I should have while we were together.

  "What are you talking about? Are you breaking up with me?"

  "No...you're breaking up with me."

  I'm confused. Or maybe she is.

  Either way, my head is absolutely spinning and I don't know which way is up.

  I've lost her.

  "Reilly..." she says softly, finally, finally taking a step toward me. "We're just having a fight. I'm not dumping you."

  "If you wanted to, I would totally understand."

  "Stop trying to talk me into breaking up with you, you weirdo. Do you want to break up?"

  "No!" My head shakes back and forth wildly. "Never!"

  "Good, me neither. Tonight has been absolute crap, I'll give you that much. Tomorrow will be better, okay?"

  Relief rushes through me, fast and frantic. Rosie still wants me!

  I'm smiling without meaning to; even though I'm also half-sure tears are still leaking from my eyes. I'm feeling everything at once.

  "Did you want to go back to the park for a bit and talk?" I ask.

  Rosie shakes her head no. "I already told my mom I was on my way home."

  "She must really hate me by now. I'll make this up to both of you, I swear."

  "I didn't tell her what happened. I didn't even know what happened, so what was I going to say?"

  "Right. I'm sorry."

  "You can stop saying that now," Rosie answers back, the slightest hint of teasing in her voice. "I know you're sorry. I absolutely know that you never would have done this to hurt me. I mean it hurt anyway. But I know that's not who you are."

  I press my lips together, fighting back the words ‘thank you’ and ‘I'm sorry’ at the same time.

  "I'll see you at school tomorrow then?"

  "Obviously." Rosie smiles, and even though it looks forced, it feels like the best thing in the world anyway.

  Rosie's hand reaches out to mine. I take it automatically, moving in toward her as slowly as I can, giving her every chance to change her mind, to back away. To leave me.

  Because the world is apparently a pretty wonderful place, she stays.

  I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into a hug so I can squeeze her entire body close to mine, rather than just a hand. She hugs me back, only for a second before she tilts her head back and her lips find mine. Her lips are sticky and taste like cherries. I never want to stop kissing her.

  Tonight though, karma is not on my side. Eventually Rosie pulls away, leaving me cold where the warmth of her body had sheltered me only a moment before.

  "We're okay?" I ask as she moves back away from me, wanting to keep her here just a little longer if I can.

  "Better than okay. We're the best."

  I stay put as she walks away, already trying to figure out how to make this up to her, when she turns back around to look at me from the other end of the block.

  "Stop worrying so much," she calls, loud enough that I have no problem hearing her. "We're okay!" She pauses for a second and smiles. "Also...Happy birthday, Reilly!"

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Hello?” A woman’s voice calls out from the front hallway.

  I can’t quite place it right away, but that’s not all that surprising. In the two and a half weeks since our birthday, our house has practically becoming a train station for how many people are coming in and out all the time. The schedule insanity of back to school and our birthdays somehow managed to transition to the routine chaos of the school year at the Donovan house.

  On this one Sunday alone, Rhiannon has had a couple people over to study for a chemistry test on Monday, Rosie and Kent have come over to hang out around lunch time, and I don’t even know how many of Reece’s friends are here now. Ever since she broke it off with John, she’s had friends with her almost all the time, to the point where it’s hard for the rest of us to get close to her for more than a few minutes. She’s almost always out, having people over, or locked in her room taking a nap. Just busy enough that no one can ask her how she’s doing or if she’s okay.

  “Is anyone there?” The voice calls again nearly a minute later, this time prompting me to actually sit up from the couch, pulling my feet off of Rosie’s lap. I’d assumed that whoever was at the door would have found who they were looking for already. There’s something about the sing-songy accent that seems out of place here.

  “Fine then, I guess I’ll just hop on a plane and head back across the pond.”

  “Aunt Grace?” I wonder out loud, as the voice strikes a chord in my memory. Sitting in the chair across from me, Reagan looks just as confused as I am. “Aunt Grace?” I say again, loud enough that if I’m right, I’ll be heard from the front door. Not that it matters. I’m already up and racing toward the front of the house, my sister at my heels.

  Sure enough, my dad’s older sister is standing in our front hallway. The front door is still open with three brightly colored suitcases at my aunt’s feet. A shrill squeal escapes my lips as I rush to the front door, flinging my arms around her. Reagan latches on a half-second later, and for a long moment the three of us are just jumping around as we giggle and shriek in excitement.

  When a fourth body joins the fray, I’m solidly squished between my aunt’s body and one of my sisters’. How much could oxygen really matter when it comes to being reunited with one of your all time favorite people?

  I only catch a full lungful of air when everyone finally pulls apart from one another. Rhiannon, Reagan and I step back to give our aunt some space just as Reece starts her way down the stairs.

  “Are your parents not home?” Aunt Grace asks, looking around at the small crowd that has gathered to welcome her. I doubt my aunt was quite expecting this kind of welcoming committee, although if there's anyone I know who I'd say is usually ready for just about anything, it’s her.

  “I guess not,” Reece says once she’s in hugging range, wrapping her arms around Grace for a quick second. “Did they know you were coming? How did we not know you were coming?”

  “This was all kind of last minute. It was supposed to be a surprise. Surprise! I almost caved and called your dad for a lift from the airport, but I managed. Now we get to surprise them all over again whenever they get home!”

  Reagan laughs from her spot, leaning against the wall near the mirrored front closet. “That’ll be perfect. They’ll come home and you’ll just be sitting there in the kitchen, having a cup of tea like it’s the most natural thing in the world.”

  “Oh, brilliant!” Aunt Grace claps her hands together, her smile wide. “I love it!”

  Aunt Grace is my dad’s only sibling, and they look quite a bit like one another. Even with Grace dressed in a bright yellow dress and purple pumps that perfectly match the thin framed glasses that rest on her nose. It's a much more exciting ensemble than my dad’s usual jeans and t-shirt combo. There’s still no denying they’re family. She has the same light hair as my sisters and I, though hers is now peppered throughout with white.

  “I suppose,” Aunt Grace starts to say, kicking off her shoes, “there’s no point in playing our little game anymore.” She turns to me first, her smile widening even further. “Miss Reilly with the flowers.” Her gaze shifts to my sisters. “Reagan, Reece, and Rhiannon.” We all nod. “Facebook ruins all my fun. I haven’t seen you girls in what, four years, but I feel like I see you all the time.”

  “Someone should point that out to Grannie and Grandad,” Rhiannon says.

  Of all our relatives, Dad’s parents are the only real holdouts for being able to tell us apart. Not so strange, considering we’ve only met them a few times, but it’s always felt like th
at set of grandparents essentially just sees us as all the same person who somehow manages to be in more than one spot at once.

  “Now, this big old house of yours must have a spare room somewhere to stash a crazy old aunt.” Nobody answers right away. “Don’t everyone speak up at once.”

  “We actually just put two new rooms upstairs, so we all have our own now,” I say. “You can take mine, if you’d like. How long are you here for?”

  “That’s a very good question. But where's the fun in having an answer to a question like that? As long as I like, I suppose. I’m planning to drive around a bit while I’m here, take in some of the sights. You know how I am.”

  I can’t help but laugh appreciatively. My sisters and I all grew up hearing about our aunt’s adventures. She never married, swearing up and down that it had everything to do with simply never being able to find the time. There were always too many things to see and places to go, and ever since she started her own copywriting business back when we were kids, she’s been able to take her work everywhere. Though, she still spends about half of each year back in Ireland in the same town where her parents live while the rest of her time is usually spent adventuring around the world with her best friend Rachel.

  Aunt Grace talks nearly non-stop for the next ten minutes as my sisters and I transfer all of her bags from the front of the house back to the kitchen. Once you get Aunt Grace going, the only way to get her quiet again is to put a cup of tea in her hands. I move to the kettle as soon as we make it to the kitchen, as Aunt Grace asks question after question about our new house without ever actually pausing long enough to get an answer.

  “Can I do anything to help?” Rosie asks, whispering in my ear from behind me as I fish around in the cupboards for a mug.

  Mug in hand, I turn around to face her. She looks about as bewildered as everyone else. There’s about a dozen of us in the kitchen, like a hurricane of people with Grace at our center. “Sorry,” I whisper back, “This is not how I saw today going.” I ask, an idea forming, “If you’re feeling brave, I can make you the most popular person in the room?”