by Claire Adams
I held out my hand to shake Mr. Thomas's in farewell. He ignored it and walked away.
"Are you really going?" Quinn asked. "At least grab a sandwich or something first."
I should have left, but I followed her to the kitchen. The quiet caterers moved easily around Quinn. Their manager came right over. "You want a plate, Ms. Thomas?"
"Yes, please. Two. Whatever you've got," she said. She was anxious to retreat again. Her eyes kept scanning the doorways.
"We're so sorry for your loss, Ms. Thomas," the manager said. "It sounds like your sister was an amazing person and you were following in her footsteps. Your parents are lucky to have you."
Quinn gave me a painful look. She had been surviving comparisons to Sienna all her life, but today everything was compounded. "Let's hope I don't go too far," Quinn said.
The nearest server fumbled a handful of silverware.
"How about a little something from the bar, as well?" I said. I took Quinn's arm and steered her back towards the basement.
"Quinn, what on earth are you doing with him?" Mrs. Thomas hissed from the doorway.
"You mean Owen?" Quinn spun to face her mother, the color bright on her cheeks. "Trying to get through this awful day, same as you."
"Well, he can't be helping," her mother said.
"How can you say that? Don't you remember how many times Owen came to Thanksgiving? Nine. He made the stuffing and the gravy at four," Quinn said. "And remember who did all the touch-ups when you fired the painters? These walls would be splotchy if he had not taken a whole day to fix them for you."
"It's okay, Quinn. I should go," I said.
"No. How can they forget that you're my friend?" she asked. "You didn't like him dating Sienna, but you had no problem with him driving me to Los Angeles. It wasn't an issue when you scheduled a cruise during Sienna's cheerleading camp week and Owen had to stay here so I wouldn't be alone."
"Really, Quinn, you are just being silly. I'm sure it’s the stress of all this, but you should stop before you make a fool of yourself," Mrs. Thomas said.
"A fool of myself?" Quinn asked. "I'm not hunting around for someone to blame."
Mrs. Thomas gripped her narrow waist until her knuckles turned white. "He certainly did not help Sienna, did he? You don't think she realized how close you two were? You don't think we all knew about your 'friendship’?"
"Sienna was happy I was spending time with Quinn," I said. "She knew we like the same things."
"Childish things, little kid games," Mrs. Thomas spat. "Well, at least you realized Sienna was too good for you. I was glad when you two started drifting apart."
"You wanted him out of Sienna's life, but you expected him to be there and prevent all of this?" Quinn asked. She threw her hands up in disgust. "You don't even know what you're saying."
"No one does today. It's alright, Quinn. I'm going to leave," I said.
"I'll walk you to your car," she said.
Mrs. Thomas opened her mouth to protest, but Quinn brushed past her. I had no choice but to follow her out the front door. She moved fast, her long legs flying down the front steps. Her black high heels clicked quickly along the sidewalk and I had to hurry to catch up.
"Quinn? Are you alright?" I asked.
"No. Yes. I have no idea," she said, finally slowing down.
"They feel the same way," I said. "You can't listen to anything they say."
"Except they're right," Quinn said. "You were Sienna's boyfriend, not my buddy. I shouldn't have pestered you. I should have stuck by my mother and kept her calm."
"You're allowed to grieve, too. You're allowed to need someone in your corner." I caught her arm. "I'm on your side, Quinn. I've always been on your side."
"Sienna didn't mind us being friends, did she?" Quinn asked, tears in her eyes.
"She encouraged it. Sienna was the one that pointed out how much we have in common. She made us friends," I said. I bit my lip to stop from saying more.
Quinn threw her arms around my neck and hugged me hard. I steadied myself, then wrapped my arms around her. I could not think about how her every curve fit alongside my body. We came together too easily to ignore, but Quinn needed comfort, not complications.
I would not tell her how many times Sienna confronted me about my feelings for her little sister. Quinn did not need to know how often Sienna complained that her little sister had a crush on me. No one needed to know how that always thrilled me. I kept up with Sienna as long as I could. Now that she was gone, my connection to Quinn was even stronger. We needed each other.
"It's going to get better," I said.
"I know, I know," Quinn's voice was muffled against my neck. "Just promise me we won't drift apart." She pulled back and looked into my eyes. "I didn't know you and Sienna were drifting apart."
"For a long time, but that doesn't matter now," I said. I set Quinn carefully back on her high heels. "I'm here if you need me."
She looked at my car and shook her head. "Sienna hated this car."
"Get in if you want. I can drive you to the cemetery or you can hang out at my place if you want," I said.
Quinn brushed her chestnut hair back and smoothed it down. "No. I have to ride with my parents. It wouldn't look right if I wasn't with them."
I wanted to ask her what it mattered how things looked. I wanted to tell her that grief was messy. It was too late. I watched as Quinn straightened her shoulders and marched back to be the dutiful daughter.
Chapter Three
Quinn
The house was spotless when we returned from the cemetery. Even the funeral flowers had been removed. White roses replaced the normal vases of cut flowers my mother ordered, but that was the only change. It was as if nothing had happened.
I went to change clothes and then came back down to join my parents. They seemed confused.
"Oh, Quinn, you startled me," my mother said. She and my father sat in their normal spots in the living room. My father was reading and my mother was watching a raucous reality television show.
He put his book down, and my mother paused the television. The same heavy expression they had worn all day returned. If I had not reappeared, they could have convinced themselves both daughters were at UCLA and all was as it should be. I was an unwelcome reminder that Sienna was gone.
"I was just coming to say goodnight," I said.
"It’s only 8 pm," my father said.
"I'm just really tired," I rubbed my forehead.
"Sienna says studying before bed is a good idea because your mind works on what you learned all night," my mother told me.
"Yes, good idea," I said. I did not tell them I had left all my study material at school.
Upstairs again, the weight overtook me. I sank to the floor next to my bed. Sienna was gone and I could just as easily disappear. In fact, I slipped out of my parents' lives just by leaving the room. I could just leave and they would never even notice. Where would I go and what would I do?
I knew, but I was not ready to think about it.
I must have been sitting there for nearly an hour when the phone rang. "Hello?"
"Quinn, I had to call. How are you?"
"Darla? Hi. I don't know. I survived," I said. I pulled myself off the floor and wandered around the room as we talked. "How are things on campus?"
"Crazy. There were about a dozen memorials for Sienna today. The administration has gone into hyperspeed about mental health. I swear to God they would screen us all if they could. There's even talk of a suicide prevention team being formed. They want you to be a part of it. I actually had to explain to them why today was not a good day to call and discuss it," Darla said.
"How am I supposed to come back?" I groaned. "Owen was right, maybe now is a good time to take a break and find out what I really want to do."
"Owen?" Darla asked. "Yes, of course he was at the funeral."
"I hid out in the basement playing video games. He found me and we hung out. It was just like old times."
/> "Old times like when you had a mad crush on him? Like when he was flirting with you but dating your sister?" Darla asked.
"Exactly," I said.
She sighed. "Well, at least that got a little smile out of you. I heard it."
"I know, I know, but it was really great. He's the only one I can actually talk to around here."
"And it doesn't hurt that he's a 6-foot, blue-eyed blond that's built like a Norse god," Darla said. "I'd let him comfort me anytime."
"Want to know something weird?" I asked. "My mother was crazy today and trying to place the blame on Owen. While she was ranting at him, she said the strangest thing. She said everyone knew about Owen and me. Sienna even knew how well we got along and she encouraged Owen to hang out with me."
"Well, she did only use him as eye candy," Darla said. "Maybe your sister realized you two share something a little deeper."
"But she still dated him."
"Was your sister ever any good at sharing?" Darla asked. "Sorry."
"No, it's good. Owen and I spent all day listening to memories of Sienna that had passed through a perfecting lens. No one wanted to remember that she was real," I said. I flopped back on my bed. "I don't want my sister to be a saint. I just want to remember my actual sister."
"Oh, Quinn, I'm so sorry. You and Sienna loved each other. Sisters don't always get along, sisters don't always share, and sisters certainly don't take it easy on each other. No one knew her like you."
"Thanks, Darla. I'll be back on campus soon," I said. We said our goodbyes and I hung up.
Darla was right. I knew Sienna better than anyone. And now that I thought about it, she had always talked about Owen and me together. She had talked to me about movies Owen and I would like, stores we should visit, and places we should go. Sometimes she sent us off together while she was busy. At the time I would be embarrassed, thinking she was using Owen to babysit me, but now I wondered.
My thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the window. It was followed by a smattering of clicks, pebbles hitting the glass. I pulled myself off my bed and went to the window. Owen waved from the lawn and pointed to the kitchen door.
It was the way he used to sneak into the house during high school. I turned and tiptoed down to the kitchen to let him in. I warned him not to say a thing. We slipped along the hallway and down the basement to the safety of the old leather sofa.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay. I drove to the cemetery. I didn't join everyone at the graveside, but I was there. You didn't look like you were doing too good," Owen said.
I rubbed my forehead again. "It, it was a tough drive there and back."
"Your parents? I figured."
For a moment, I thought he was going to pull me into a hug, but Owen hesitated and I took a step back. Instead, he sat down on the sofa and opened the backpack he had brought with him.
"I realized I still had some things of Sienna's that I thought you might want back," Owen said. He pulled out a dog-eared copy of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.
I laughed and took it from him. "This is mine. My favorite book," I said.
Owen smiled. "Yeah, that makes more sense. I remember making Sienna read it before we watched the movie, but she was not into it."
"I remember," I said. "Sienna ended up inviting cheerleaders over and making pep rally signs. She sent me downstairs and you started the movie over so I could watch too."
"Well, here's what else I found," Owen said.
I sifted through the few articles he dumped on the sofa between us. "My constellation map. I wondered where this went."
"Sienna gave it to me after the meteor shower last year," Owen said. "I didn't know it was yours."
"Actually, so is the CD mix," I said.
"I loved that mix. I always wondered how Sienna got all the songs. Not really her type of music," he said. "Sorry. This was supposed to help you remember your sister."
I took his hand and squeezed. "But it did! Much more than the rest of today. Sienna knew we liked the same things and she wanted to give you things you liked, so she gave you my stuff."
Owen smiled. "Yeah, Sienna always figured out how to remove the guesswork from anything."
We sat for a moment, and I was happy to finally be remembering my sister for who she was. When I realized I was still holding Owen's hand, the heat went directly to my cheeks.
"Sorry," I said.
"It’s okay, Quinn," Owen said. He moved closer and took my hand again. "Don't you ever think Sienna might have wanted this? She was always matching us up, always putting us together."
"Then why were you dating?"
"Sienna wanted a high school sweetheart. Those stories don't include breaking up freshman year and spending the rest of high school trying to find someone else," Owen said.
"You wanted to break up freshman year?"
"It was pretty easy to discover that Sienna and I did not like the same things," he shrugged.
"Then why were you dating Sienna?" I asked. I thought about my beautiful, perfect sister and my cheeks flared even hotter. "Never mind."
"No, Quinn, it wasn't like that. Sienna made things easy for me. I'm not a joiner, I don't like being in the middle of things. I never would have experienced half of high school if it wasn't for her. I would have been down here." He looked around our basement family room.
"With me?"
I was not ready when Owen looked back. His blue eyes were too bright, his grip on my hand too warm and tight. He leaned forward and the nearer he came, the less breath I was able to capture. I sat airless, and in the vacuum, hope, excitement, and fear fought. We couldn't do this, could we?
"Quinn? Are you down there again?"
"Father?" I asked. I dropped Owen's hand as if it had burned me.
"We're going to order a pizza. Come up and join us," my father said.
I thought about all the food from the funeral and realized the thought of it turned my stomach as well. I had hardly eaten all day and pizza sounded good. Even though all my father's invitations sounded like orders.
"I'll be up in a minute." I turned to Owen and whispered. "Wait a couple of minutes and go out the kitchen door."
He smiled and patted my leg. "Don't worry. I've done this before."
In the kitchen, my stomach was still fluttering with excitement. I felt as if my brain had no control over my emotions anymore and I swung from one feeling to the next without thought. Sienna was gone, I was still reeling in shock, and yet Owen felt the same. About everything. All those years of longing and the feelings might not have been unrequited. I clung to that joyful thought.
"Oh, there you are, darling. I ordered the pizza with the sun-dried tomatoes. Just like you like," my mother said.
"That was Sienna," I said.
"Oh, yes, sorry. I forgot you were home," my mother said. She poured a glass of white wine. "There's a special on the bridges of Paris, your father thought you might want to watch it while we eat. The pizza should be ready any minute."
"That was Sienna, too," I said. "You start without me and I'll go pick up the pizza."
Sienna loved Paris. It was her daydream city. Whenever she was feeling sad or pressured or stressed, she made imaginary plans to go to Paris.
"It feels good to think about leaving it all behind and going somewhere I've always longed to go," Sienna had explained. "Where would you go? And you can't say Paris."
"Las Vegas," I had told her.
"We live in Las Vegas."
"The Strip. All the lights, all the people from other places," I had tried to explain.
"All the flashing screens and video games?" Sienna had cocked an eyebrow at me. "You sound just like Owen. He's always wanting to go there. I mean, it’s fun once or twice, but I'm not into playing video games on wall-sized screens or whatever it is you two like to do."
I fought the overwhelming urge to get in the car and drive the 15 minutes to the Strip. People who lived in and a
round Las Vegas generally avoided that area like the plague. To me, it had a comforting aspect – like a part of my imagination come to life. And it did not hurt that no one there knew me or Sienna or what had happened.
#
"If you're ready now, we can take the long way into town. I know you love that drive," my father said. He strolled into the kitchen, checking his watch.
"That was Sienna," I said. "Sienna liked to take the long way because she had a dream house picked out on top of the hill."
Summerlin was a relatively small community, so the long way was actually just a tour of the neighborhoods. The houses were impressive and it was fun to drive at night and peek into other people's lives.
The pizza place we liked was only a few minutes away, but Sienna and my father were sometimes gone for nearly 45 minutes. They drove around and plotted her perfect future. She wanted to be surgeon at one of the exclusive private hospitals in Las Vegas where she could treat rich people from all over the world without leaving her hometown. My father had even taken on clients from those hospitals to make sure Sienna would have the contacts she needed.
My father stopped and his watch arm dropped. He just stood in the corner of the kitchen and stared at the floor. "Well, the pizza will be ready soon. We should leave in about 15 minutes."
He shuffled back towards the front room as I leaned on the counter. I clung to Sienna's idea of a daydream city. It was easy to picture Las Vegas. I always started with the Paris Casino, the faux Eiffel Tower was something I often teased Sienna about. From there, I pictured the Bellagio's dancing fountains and the Luxor's sleek black lines. I also loved the rollercoaster facade of New York, New York and the white columns of Caesar's Palace.
I focused in on the arcade at the MGM Grand. Beyond the normal kid games, they had interactive and full-sized gaming consoles where you could actually feel like you were inside the game. I wanted to step inside one and let everything else fade away.
Still, my daydream was not holding. Sienna was right. Tonight, Las Vegas was not far enough away, and I had 15 minutes to escape. I put my head on my arms as I leaned on the counter and tried again.
