by Hazel Kelly
It bothered me that I didn't see this coming, that I didn't know Mike was capable of being such a bad guy. But he wasn't as jealous and controlling in the beginning.
Then again, maybe he was, and I’d foolishly believed it was sweet.
I sighed and looked at the framed picture atop the dresser of Shane and Izzy with their parents on Christmas, each of them wearing an ugly sweater and a silly grin. Their whole family had such a great sense of humor, and the photo reminded me that I could probably get through anything as long as they were in my life.
The top drawer of the dresser was full of gym clothes, which made me recall the last time I’d seen Shane all sweaty after a workout.
Why didn't he have a girlfriend?
I knew there were a few girls he fooled around with regularly, and he seemed to choose between them when he needed a date for something- which was all the time for frat guys.
For a while, he was spending a lot of time with a Theta whose shiny hair went all the way to her waist. The only thing longer was her legs and- I suspect- the list of designer handbags she owned.
Then there was the Chi Omega with the blue eyes, blonde hair, and tight gymnast’s body. Worst of all, she actually seemed like a nice person, though I remember throwing up in my mouth a little once when I heard her admit to someone in the rec center that she and Shane were more than friends.
Lastly, there was that Indian supermodel who was in all his finance courses. And the fact that she was as intelligent as she was gorgeous- with her pretty brown skin and her obscenely long lashes- probably made her my least favorite.
Not that she wasn't an alright person. They were all alright. They just weren't good enough for Shane. Their senses of humor fell short for one. Most importantly, they didn't know and love him.
Not like I did anyway.
I still remember the day their family moved in down the street. My parents brought over a pie or something just to "welcome them to the neighborhood" (i.e. make a good first impression and let the new blood know they were being watched).
Anyway, when they got back, they told me the new neighbors had a little girl my age that I could be friends with.
This was great news because I was seven and three quarters and quite ready to expand my social girl. Or rather, I felt that I’d outgrown the girl at the bottom of the cul de sac who always seemed to have poison ivy.
But when I met Izzy later that day and realized she had a twin brother, it felt like Christmas morning.
Not only had I never met real twins before- which made them instantly fascinating to me- but when Shane showed me how he could burn a hole in a leaf with nothing but a magnifying glass, I knew he was the one to deliver the excitement that had been missing from my life.
Not that my parents didn't do their best, but I was an only child and the result of several costly rounds of IVF. As a result, they babied me so much that sometimes I felt like I might as well have been properly bubble wrapped to save my mom the extra hand wringing.
Every time I got so much as a scratch, she would act like it was the end of the world. She took me to the doctor for every fever, every sneeze, and every goddamn hiccup.
The worst, though, was if I bumped my head. She'd get so panicked I'd worry I lost brain cells that were crucial to my living up to her academic expectations.
It was so much pressure, and although I understood it, that didn't make it any easier.
But when the Jennings twins showed up on the scene, all that began to change. At first I thought it was the fact that I finally had a little gang looking out for me. But in hindsight, I suspect it was because Shane inspired so much confidence in people.
Not only was he eleven constantly mentioned minutes older than Izzy, but he was a natural born leader and his charm was the gift that kept on giving.
I'd hear a knock at the door and listen as he greeted my mom and made a fuss over whatever smell was billowing out of the kitchen. Then he'd ask if I could come out to play.
But the masterstroke was that- before we even hit the driveway- he'd say, "What time would you like Andi to be home, Mrs. Oliver?"
Every. Time.
And he always got me there, too, though the onus was usually on me to come up with a suitable story for what the hell we'd been doing all day since the truth was often more than my mother could handle.
But to say she was delighted that Shane and I were headed to the same college twelve years later would be the biggest understatement ever.
So I guess I wasn’t the only one that thought he was a good influence on me. Even Nervous Nancy felt that he was the cure for her darkest fears.
There was only one problem with him being so great, and that was that I couldn’t help but compare everyone to him.
And in fifteen years, no one had ever come close to measuring up.
Chapter 6: Shane
I was halfway home when I realized I was clenching my fists so hard they were getting sore.
Sure, I'd scolded Mike and knocked him around enough to get his attention, but as far as I was concerned, he got off too lightly.
On the plus side, I'd managed to successfully suppress how deep my feelings of hatred went for him.
Because it wasn’t entirely personal. I never liked any of the guys Andi went out with.
The least offensive was probably Jason De Marco, who took her to prom, and that was only because we played hockey together back then, and I thought he was a decent guy.
Of course, after Izzy told me he'd given Andi a fat purple hickey on her neck and that he tried to push her head down, I avoided him like the plague.
I don't know why exactly. I always thought it was simply because- next to Izzy- she'd always been the person I was most protective of.
What's more, I knew how special she was, and I had this idea in my mind of how I thought she deserved to be treated, an idea no one ever seemed to live up to.
At least Mike was out of the picture now, which was a relief. He was the worst guy to catch her attention yet.
And to be frank, I think the reason I hated him most was that his behavior reminded me of my own jealousy.
I still remember the first time I saw her flirt with someone in high school- like really flirt. Like hair twirling, eyelash batting, cheek blushing flirt. I remember wishing she'd look at me like that, that my attention would reduce her to a sweet, giggling mess.
Maybe I was too familiar for her to see me that way, or perhaps it was the fact that she and my sister were so close.
But that didn't stop me from noticing the curve of her ass or the twinkle in her eye or her shapely lips.
But noticing was one thing.
It would've been quite another to do anything that couldn't be laughed off or denied, anything that might challenge the deep trust she and Izzy had in me.
I pushed the door of Andi's favorite sandwich shop open and listened as the chime rang out under the floor mat. Then I ordered a wreck for me, a spicy turkey for her, and two Oreo milkshakes to go.
"Can you put some extra Oreos in the bag?" I asked.
The young man behind the counter nodded.
I was trying to remember what frat he was in when an elbow brushed against my arm.
"I didn't think you were an extra Oreos kind of guy?"
I turned towards the familiar voice and felt a surge of warmth in my stomach when my eyes found her crimson smile. "Sonia. Hey."
She glanced down at the leather boots sticking out of the bag in my hand.
"Oreos and drag, huh?" Her voice was as smooth as her clear brown skin.
"Not exactly," I said, trying to remember how long it had been since-
"I thought you were going to come out last weekend?"
I shrugged and accepted my change from the cashier. "I was going to, but my sister came to town so I had to change my plans." It wasn't a complete lie. Izzy's art school was only a few hours away, and she did swing by all the time. Last weekend just hadn't been one of them.
Sonia p
ursed her lips.
The guy across the counter slid the bag of sandwiches towards me and set down a tray with two shakes in it. "Your extra Oreos are in the bag."
"Thanks," I said.
"Well, I won't keep you," Sonia said, eyeing my meal for two. "But don't be a stranger." She put a hand on my shoulder and pressed her cinnamon smelling cheek to mine.
My mind flashed briefly to the last time we hung out. We’d pressed a lot more than our cheeks together.
But a moment later, I thought of Andi waiting anxiously in my bedroom, pining for food and an update on what I can only assume had been one of the worst nights of her life.
"See you around," I said, heading for the door and picking up my pace.
When I got back to the house, I climbed the stairs, shifted the bags to my left hand, balanced the shakes against my chest, and knocked, since the last thing she needed was someone barging in on her after the day she had, even if it was my room.
She opened the door wearing one of my hoodies a second later, the bottom of it so long it nearly made her frayed jean shorts disappear.
Her eyes lit up when she saw me and stayed bright as they bounced around my full arms.
"A little help?" I handed the shakes to her.
She smiled as she took them.
"I hope you're hungry," I said, setting the sandwiches down on my desk.
"How did it go?" she asked, eyeing the bag with the boots.
I handed it to her so she could see for herself.
She took it and rummaged through the spoils. "You got everything."
I furrowed my brow. "You said that as if you doubted me."
"Never," she said, throwing her arms around me and squeezing me just tight enough to remind me that she was still shaken up.
I held her head against my chest and didn't let go until I felt her loosen her grip.
"Thanks, Shane," she said, taking a step back and looking at me, her fat lip impossible to ignore. "I owe you one."
"Just stay away from him and we'll call it even," I said, taking the sandwiches out of the brown bag and laying them side by side.
"What did he say?" she asked, taking her sub to the edge of the bed and unwrapping it carefully so the paper became a little placemat.
"Not much." I took a sip of my shake. It was creamy and delicious and tasted like being a carefree kid again.
"Don't be vague," she said. "I've been going crazy here worrying he might hurt you or say nasty things about me to you or-"
"What the hell would that matter?" I asked. "You know I don’t give a shit what he thinks about anything."
She shrugged. "Still."
"Well, he didn't say anything nasty about you, and I had no trouble getting your stuff. Convincing him to leave you the hell alone was a bigger job than I anticipated, but it’s over now-"
"Did you hurt him?" she asked, her voice as soft as her chocolate eyes were wide.
"Just enough to scare him," I said. "Like he did to you."
She swallowed.
I took my sandwich over to the end of the bed and sat down beside her. "He's fine, though. Trust me. I only hurt him enough to get his attention."
She pursed her lips and looked down at her sandwich.
"I would've done the same for Izzy."
She nodded. "I know."
But by the look on her face, I got the feeling that she had no idea how much I really cared about her.
Then again, how could she?
I'd always kept it to myself.
Chapter 7: Andi
We didn't talk much as we ate our sandwiches. Instead, we listened to the mild domestic happening in the room next door until Shane put on some music to drown out the sound.
Not that I was really listening anyway. On the contrary, I was trying to process- and guess- what happened between him and Mike.
To be honest, though, I wished I could forget about Mike altogether.
Sure, things were fun in the beginning- and the sex had been energetic in a way that made it easy to ignore our increasingly animated fights- but for the most part, Shane was right.
He was no good for me.
My grades had dropped in two of my classes. I'd spent virtually no time with Shane, and I hadn't gone to visit Izzy once since Mike and I started going out.
But worst of all, I didn't like who I'd become as a result of dating him.
I was more meek lately and unsure of myself. I'd started lying to my parents about serious stuff, like my grades and how my boyfriend was treating me.
It was pathetic that someone could come into my life and overwhelm me like that until I hardly recognized myself.
And when he squeezed my jaw, I felt fragile for the first time in my life, and I hated it.
I wanted to feel strong and confident, and I wanted to be in a relationship where my grades didn't suffer and the guy I was sleeping with didn't do things I couldn't tell my friends about.
So I was grateful for Shane's help, grateful that I could count on him to talk some sense into me and force me to take action… especially when all I felt strong enough to do was curl up in the corner until the whole thing blew over.
But it wouldn't.
The only thing that was ever going to blow was Mike's temper as soon as something else set him off, and even though I felt like a coward for letting Shane do my dirty work for me, the important thing was that it was over and I was safe.
If only Shane didn't see me like a sister.
I swear our closeness was as much a blessing as it was a curse.
Just once I wanted him to look at me the way he looked at those girls I'd seen him with- like my feelings and insecurities were the last thing he was thinking about.
Maybe that's why I kept dating guys who had no real respect for me- because I couldn't figure out how else to get that possessive intensity that I always craved from Shane.
"God I needed that," he said, crumpling the crummy white paper that previously held his sandwich. "Is yours okay?"
"Perfect," I said, covering my full mouth. "I owe you one."
He furrowed his brow. "Stop saying that. You don't owe me anything."
I swallowed. "Sorry."
"And stop saying you’re sorry." He raised his hands and threw the wad of paper in a perfect arc so it landed squarely in the small green garbage in the corner. "It doesn't suit you."
I knew he was right. I felt like all I’d done the last two months with Mike was apologize. I'd started to say it even when it didn't make any sense.
"Can I save the rest of this?" I asked, realizing there was really another meal in the half eaten sandwich before me. "Chuck it in your fridge for the moment maybe?"
"Of course," he said, standing at the edge of the bed while I wrapped it up. "Besides, you need to save room for dessert."
I furrowed my brow. "I thought the milkshake was-"
"I got extra Oreos," he said.
I smiled. "Oreos, huh?"
He nodded and took my sandwich over to the fridge.
"Dessert and a distraction then?"
He looked over his shoulder at me. "My thoughts exactly."
My eyes traced the length of his defined jaw. "I didn't even know you could get extra cookies there. Is that another one of the perks of being big man on campus?"
He closed the fridge door with his foot. "More like one of the perks of saying please."
"I see." I propped some pillows up at the head of the bed. When I leaned against them, I was convinced a burst of his cologne released around me. "Do you have any milk?"
He scrunched his face. "There’s milk in the kitchen, but I have to warn you. At least thirty of the guys that live here are repeat offenders when it comes to drinking straight from the jug."
"Right," I said, crossing my ankles. "I'll stick with my milkshake then."
Shane laid down beside me and put the bag between us. "You go first."
I rolled onto my side, pulled an Oreo from the bag, and held it up between us.
His fingers brushed mine as he tried to get a good grip on the side of the cookie closest to him.
"Ready?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.
He nodded and began to twist.
The icing came off on my side. A surge of warmth burst in my stomach. "Truth or dare?" I asked.
