by Violet Blaze
“This is the ladies room, Flor. It's for ladies, as in people that are not you. Get out.” I tried to turn away towards the stalls, but he caught my wrist, holding me in place. I refused to look back at him. “Why can't you just leave me alone for a minute?” I asked.
“Do you remember when I stole a bottle of champagne from my aunt's wedding reception? When we climbed out onto the roof, barefoot, and drank it together?” I snorted, but refused to answer him. Of course I remembered that. I could still see the sky painted with fingers of pink and orange, still hear my stepmother's laughter ringing across the open space, still taste the bubbles against my tongue. Flor was sixteen at the time, and I was only thirteen, but I'd wanted to be cool like him so, even though I was scared of being caught, I'd gone along with it. After the contents of the bottle had disappeared, I'd leaned against my stepbrother, breathed in his scent and fell asleep with my head against his shoulder.
“That's … I knew that I loved you then. I think I always had, but … it took me until that moment to realize it.”
Jesus.
My heart did a somersault in my chest, the sensation made all the worse by the fact that it was still coming undone. How, why, would he do this to me now, after so clearly rejecting me?
“So, when?” he asked again, tugging me a step closer. “When did it happen for you?”
I shook my head and felt tears fall from my eyes. I could not do this anymore. When, he wanted to know, had I fallen in love with him? If I had to hazard a guess, it would've been that first day, when I'd first made contact with those green eyes of his. Obviously I'd been a child at the time, but I'd loved him anyway. I'd always loved Flor.
When I didn't answer, he pulled me back and spun me so that I was facing him, one hand sliding under my chin to lift my face to his, the other releasing my wrist and curling around my waist. Flor pressed us into the wall and growled low under his breath, letting go of my chin and burying his face in my hair.
“Abi … ”
“Stop it, Flor,” I cried, letting go of my emotions. Why hide them anymore? What was the point? “I can't do it anymore.” My voice was hardly audible, choked with sobs, blurred by tears. “When you touch me, I fall apart. You're all I think about. And I … you make me so crazy, my stomach is always twisted up in knots. When I see you with other girls, I want to die. No, I … I want them to die, and I hate myself for it, so stop. Just stop and let me go.”
“But I can't,” he snarled angrily, his breath hot against the back of my neck. I squirmed in his grip, but he didn't let go, instead moving his hand down, sliding it up under my skirt and feeling his way along my bare thigh, just like he'd done all those years ago. Just as it had back then, his touch burned now, brought a whimper to my lips that Flor kissed away, sealing my emotions with a simple press of his mouth against mine.
Tears poured down my cheeks, salty wetness blurring between kisses as his tongue found mine and my arms, slowly, treacherously, found their way around his neck. Flor pulled back so I could catch my breath, kissing his way across my moist cheeks, brushing my curls back, finding my throat. Meanwhile, his hand roved further up, cupping my ass, squeezing my flesh with desperate fingers. I could feel him hard and desperate against me and adjusted my body to get a better angle. A better angle for what? my brain asked me as I leaned back and felt the metal of the locket slide against the skin of my chest.
My head cleared suddenly, like storm clouds moving over the sun, and I gasped.
My hands found Flor's chest and pushed. Surprised, he stumbled back and I moved around him just in time to bump into the door as it opened.
“Sorry,” I mumbled to the startled woman, and then I was gone, running through the restaurant and past the table. I didn't look back to see if Flor was following me, and I didn't bother to pay for my burger.
My stepbrother had just broken my heart – again – so the least he could do was foot the bill.
Family freaking dinner.
I sat across the table from Flor, my hands shaking as I gripped the fork and listened to my stepmom talk about some construction that was happening near her office. I hadn't expected Florian to come, not after what had happened between us earlier, but here he was, arrogant and unapologetic. His eyes followed me around the room, and I had this itchy feeling between my shoulder blades, like he was just waiting to get me alone.
“Anyway,” River said, straightening out the cloth napkin on her lap and shaking her head, “enough about that. Florian, how's Rhonda?” I kept my attention focused on my plate. After a moment of silence, I glanced up and found those sharp emerald irises locked onto my face and swallowed. How could he frown like that? Wear his hair all mussy and beautiful? Come here with rumpled clothes and a bad attitude, like this was all my fault? “Florian,” River snapped and he blinked like he was coming back to life, dragging his gaze from me.
My dad's blue eyes traveled between the two of us and I had to swallow hard and struggle not to be alarmed by the intense look in them. He sensed something. Oh my God. What would he do if he found out? I couldn't even imagine. He'd think I was a freak, a pervert, call me an incestuous whore and kick me out of his life.
My nerves had never been stretched so taut.
“What?” Flor snapped back at his mom. River narrowed her eyes on her son and then glanced over at me with pursed lips. So she felt it, too. Great.
“How's Rhonda?” she asked again, trying her very best to keep calm. I could see her irritation in the set of her slender shoulders. “You haven't mentioned her once tonight.”
“Oh, uh,” Flor began, looking back at me. I kept my face neutral, or at least I tried. My dad had already commented on my puffy eyes and swollen face; I'd been crying all day. I'd lied and told him I'd gotten an F on my chem test, and he'd actually hugged me. And then he'd lectured me on the importance of keeping up my grades, warning me against future failures. I squeezed my hands into fists. “Rhonda is fine, but she wants to move too fast. I think I'm going to break up with her.”
“Really?” River asked skeptically, reaching out and squeezing her son's hand. “Florian, this is the only girl you've ever brought home. She must be special. What exactly does she want?”
“She wants to get engaged,” Florian said, stuffing his mouth full of mashed potatoes, so he didn't need to elaborate. I stared at his face, trying to keep the shock off of mine.
“Hmm,” River mused, looking over at me. “What did you think of her, Abi?” I quickly copied Flor and stuffed food into my mouth, so I didn't have to answer right away.
“Nee-chan doesn't like her, do you, Abigail?” Flor asked, putting down his fork and reaching into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes.
“Outside, Florian,” my dad warned as my stepbrother pushed his chair back and watched me carefully. I looked down at the carpet and shrugged.
“She was okay, I guess,” I whispered. In all reality, I wasn't that worried about Rhonda. Flor had brought her home, but … I'd seen him look at other girls a hell of a lot more seriously. Rhonda wasn't going to make it much longer than any of the others.
“You know,” River said, grabbing Flor's arm and extracting the cigarettes from him. She placed them on the tablecloth and patted his chair. River and my father were pretty old fashioned when it came to dinner. You ate together until everyone was done. Flor frowned at her, but sat back down. Sometimes, I forgot that he was only twenty-one; his eyes seemed so much older. “That reminds me. Whatever happened to that sweet boy you were dating, Abi? Addison's friend?”
Crap.
I called out my brother's name in bed.
“He … didn't work out,” I answered, trying to avoid the subject of Max.
“Didn't Abi tell you?” Flor said in his best know-it-all asshole tone. “She's dating Max now.”
My father seriously started choking on his green beans.
My stepmom patted his back until he calmed down and then they both stared across the table at me.
“Abigail,” my fa
ther began and I felt my cheeks heating. Shit. “Does Max have anything to do with the bad grade on your exam?” Underneath his words were all the things he couldn't say with Flor and my stepmom around. Max is no good. He's a loser, just like your brother. He's exactly the sort of man that will ruin your life and smile in the rearview mirror as he drives away. I knew that my dad was desperate not to see me screw up my life for a guy, or make a mistake choosing a partner like he had with my mom, but the look in his eyes still stung.
“Yeah, Abi,” Flor said, leaning back and weaving his fingers together behind his head, “does he?” I wanted to pick my fork up and throw it at him, but instead, I just folded my hands in my lap and shook my head. I won't think about that kiss today or the one last night. I won't think about Flor's words either. Why should I, if he didn't really mean them?
I knew that I loved you then. I think I always had, but … it took me until that moment to realize it.
I looked straight back at Flor, met his eyes across the dinner table like I'd done a thousand times when we were kids. When we were really little, before Flor had discovered girls and started breaking my heart, we'd passed notes to each other under the table. In fact … I reached up and traced my fingers along the wood, searching for something that I knew couldn't possibly be there but was anyway.
My notebook.
Flor and I had taped miniature notebooks and pencils at each of our seats, so we could communicate quietly while our parents droned on. Like I said, family dinners had always been long, dictated by good manners and polite waiting. This was made even worse when my stepmom or dad had clients or colleagues over to eat. The notes had made it all worth it and now, years after we'd written our last notes, mine was still stuck to the table.
“Max and I … we're breaking up, too. Looks like Flor and I are both single again.” I adjusted my fork and let it clink against my plate, using the noise to disguise the sound of the ancient tape peeling away from the table. I yanked it into my lap and flicked open the front cover while my father and stepmother exchanged yet another look.
I miss you when you're gone.
My own handwriting stared right back at me as I struggled to fight back tears. Here was a note I never sent, that got forgotten as Flor and I had gotten older, as he'd started leaving the house more, skipping dinner more.
I traced my fingers over the pale yellow paper, the daisies printed across the top of the page.
“Oh, come on, Abi, Max is my best friend. We've been friends for, God, almost as long as I've known you.” I looked up at Flor, at his cruel smile and wondered what the hell he was doing. I decided to ask him, crossing out the I miss you and scribbling what the hell are you trying to do? in its place. “If he's done something to hurt you, you should tell me. I'll give him a talking to, clear up this little misunderstanding.”
“Maybe it's for the best,” my dad grumbled, wiping his mouth with a napkin and taking a sip of his wine. “I never really liked that boy anyway.”
“Art,” River warned, giving Flor a look. I watched as my stepbrother narrowed his eyes on his stepfather. The two of them had always had an odd relationship. Even if, somehow, Flor would stop being an asshole and we could figure out some way to make things work between us, my dad would never accept it. He hardly accepted Flor as the distant stepson he barely saw anymore. As my lover? A future husband? Father to my kids? Kids who would only have one set of grandparents between us. Eww. I swallowed hard and, even though Flor and I weren't at all related to one another, felt a flutter of disgust in my belly. Too bad it did little to stifle the desire I felt for him.
As was our signal so long ago, I kicked Flor under the table and held my hand underneath, stretched out as far as I could without rousing suspicion. If he didn't remember the notes or the signal, I was going to look like even more of an idiot than I already felt like.
But there, his fingers, warm and comforting and oh so familiar, curling around mine, fingertips sliding along my palm as he extracted the note from my hand.
A flush crept up the back of my neck and my heart sang inside my chest. Stupid. I couldn't even believe that I was still feeling this way after what had happened today.
Of course I want to fuck you. What guy wouldn't? But I've resisted for years because, obviously, there's a little something standing between us. We're family and you don't fuck your family, Abi.
Flor hunched over, pretending to check out and stare down at his lap, something he'd often done anyway, just to show how little he really wanted to be here anymore. I watched him read the note and then glance up at me. Our eyes met again and my heart sped up, galloping along at an unnatural speed that threatened to make me feel faint. Why did he have to be so beautiful? That tight T-shirt, those muscles, those freaking eyes. But I had a feeling that no matter what Flor looked like, I'd have found him beautiful anyway. Love is weird like that, and I loved him, I did.
Just not as a brother, more like a childhood friend. Like a boy. Like a man.
I turned away and reached out to finger my water glass.
“Boys can be quite the distraction, can't they, Abi?” River said with a sympathetic smile. Her mouth was so like Flor's, her eyes green like his, only not as piercing. “But just remember that there's nothing more important than a good education.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Obviously I was aware of how important school was, and I'd been taking care of myself in that department for a long time. I never brought home anything less than an A as my final grade, barely skipped class, even tutored Flor who was three years my senior.
I wanted to say something like Flor might. Sure thing, River. I'll be sure to remember that. But I didn't, just smiled and shoveled some food into my mouth, nearly choking on the bite when a foot bumped into my shin. I reached down and took Flor's note.
Why'd you run away? We need to talk. Fuck this dinner.
I stared at the page just long enough to read it, but River caught me looking anyway.
“Texting at the table?” she asked, like she was slightly irritated with me, but could do nothing about it. I raised my head and caught Flor smirking at me, like this was funny, like anything could be funny ever again.
“I, uh, sorry.” I tucked the page into my back pocket and kept smiling. “Addi is … homesick right now, so I'm sort of helping her through that.”
“Addi, the Battle-axe? Please,” Flor said, not at all helping the situation. He drummed his colorful fingers on the tabletop and spun his right lip ring with his tongue.
“Homesickness is a completely normal and natural feeling,” River began, switching right into psychologist mode. Uh oh. I'd been on the receiving end of these lectures many, many times before. Too bad she couldn't help me with the problem I needed to solve the most: her own son. “If she's feeling that way, there's usually some specific reasons. Is she having trouble with Patrick?” In fact, Patrick was due to leave back to San Diego for a few weeks, so my lie wasn't entirely made up. I'm sure that once Patrick really did leave, Addi would need my help. “What she needs to do is make sure she has an established routine in place.”
I felt another kick and reached out my fingers, this time finding my hand wrapped in Flor's. No note, just the dry warmth of his palm, the delicate strength that allowed him to be such an established artist. I licked my lower lip and tried to drag my hand away, but he wouldn't let me. After a moment, he released me and then nudged me again with his foot, passing over a blue sheet from his own notebook. Wow, talk about nostalgia. And confusion. One minute he was telling me to shut up and the next he was confessing his own love for me. I didn't even know how to feel anymore.
I pulled the note onto my lap and unfolded it carefully, pretending to adjust my napkin, so I could read it while River talked at me.
I know I'm not making much sense. I'm confused, too. Come over after.
Come over? To his place. I did everything in my power to stay away from that den of sin, not the least of which was because I wanted to be the one sinni
ng in it with him. Every time I went over there, I found myself looking at his couch, wondering how many girls he'd brought there. I could hardly even bear looking in his room or at his bed. Did I mention that Max was Flor's roommate? Yeah, not exactly a place I wanted to be.
No.
I sent the note back to him, both hating and loving the constant brush of his fingers.
“Bring Addi over to dinner again,” River was saying as I nodded, getting back a response from Flor at the same time.
Kittens? I can teach you to feed them. No Max tonight. Please?
I shook my head and saw River raise an eyebrow. My dad was looking funny at me again.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry. My head's in the clouds.” I tried to smile but nobody was buying it.
“Looks like we're all finished then?” River said, standing up and sliding her son's cigarettes over to him. She started clearing away dishes while my dad gave me yet another look, this one rife with disappointment. I'd managed to upset my stepmother, again.
“Are you two staying for dessert?” she asked from the kitchen. I opened my mouth to answer, but Flor answered for me.
“Abigail and I have plans,” he said suddenly, standing up and putting a cigarette between his lips. He nodded at my dad and moved around the table to give his mother a kiss on the cheek when she reentered the dining room.
“Plans?” my dad asked, his voice low. If he was this suspicious of Flor now, how would he feel knowing everything that had happened between us? I turned to Flor, as curious to hear about these supposed plans as my dad was. Whatever lie he managed to come up with, I wasn't going along with it. As soon as I walked out these doors, I was getting in my car and going home.
