Sophia clicked 'like' on the last update, wishing the button would somehow teleport her across the world to somewhere warm, sunny and simple. She'd give her right arm to be relaxing on a beach a thousand miles from anyone who knew her, with nothing on her mind apart from the warm sun and a cool drink.
She clicked through to the attached photos, sighed, and spent a blissful few minutes imagining herself just out of frame: island hopping on little sail boats; zip lining through the treetops; driving a quad bike along dusty tracks, kicking up a trail that carried all her worries far away.
As she tapped the screen to return to her feed she noticed she was struggling a little to focus on the words. She could make them all out just fine if she stared at each one in turn, but it seemed as if something in her brain had just gone... kinda fuzzy? It was hard to line the words up in a row, as if the first was slipping out of her mind before she reached the end of a sentence.
OK, now you're really drunk, she realized You gotta get home to bed. She'd already had about five or six bottles before Remy had brought her the last one. That must have pushed her over the... Wait, was his name really Remy? That doesn't sound right. Robbie? Ronnie? Captain Blond Beard? Jesus, how drunk are you, girl? He introduced himself like five minutes ago.
The table in front of her began to swim in and out of focus. The sides of the booth seemed to be moving in and out like the walls of a breathing lung, and she barely noticed as her phone slipped out of a hand that didn't feel as if it belonged to her. She felt as if she was no longer in her body. Everything kinda tingled, and she almost laughed out loud at the idea that her spirit was pulling out of her body like she might pull off a pair of gloves, one finger at a time. I never knew being drunk felt like this.
Suddenly there was an arm beneath her, like a comfortable cushion she could lay down on and close her eyes. The voice in her ear was muffled and distant, but it sounded soothing. She could just rest here a moment. It was OK. People would take care of her.
She felt herself being lifted gently out of the seat. Her eyes felt heavy and she didn't really want to keep them open, but through the haze she could see, close up, a thin, patchy blonde beard.
Suddenly the voice became louder, and was joined by another, loud enough to pierce through the soft, comfortable cotton wool that seemed to surround her.
"Hey, man, relax, my girlfriend's just had a little too much. Chill the fuck out, OK? Man, what's your problem?"
The other voice sounded like Ryan. Oh, I love Ryan. He's so nice. I wish he could take me to bed with him.
"What the fuck do you mean, your girlfriend? This is my stepsister, you fucking creep!"
Sophia felt like a pinball bouncing around a table. The arm beneath her vanished and another one replaced it, but not before she felt something hit her head, hard. I didn't really hurt, but she could hear the bang. She struggled to open her eyes a little, and found she was looking up from the floor. Everyone seemed like giants looming over her. Ryan looked mad, and the guy with the beard and the beanie looked kinda scared. He started running for the door, but Ryan reached out with a long, muscular arm and grabbed his jacket by the collar. Why doesn't everyone just chill out? Relax, Ryan, relax.
There was some kind of struggle, but she couldn't really make out what was going on. It was like watching a Japanese game show or something. The stage looked familiar, but the language was all kinda messed up and confusing. Nothing made much sense, but it was fun to watch.
Ryan's friend reached into the beard guy's jacket as Ryan held onto his shoulders, and when his hand came out he was holding some little things, showing them to Ryan. They were white. He looked just as mad as Ryan.
"Hey, I have a prescription for those! Put 'em back, you crazy fuck!" The beard guy was yelling now, but it wasn't like Ryan's yelling. His voice came out all high pitched and squeaky, and his eyes were real wide like saucers. He looked funny.
"Are you fucking kidding me? How much did you give her?" Ryan's face was all red, and he shook the beard guy like a doll.
"Sophia, can you hear me honey? Come on honey, wake up." There was a pretty blond girl looking down at her. Her hair tickled Sophia's nose. She liked it, but the girl was too loud, and she was shaking her too hard. Sophia just wanted to sleep.
Ryan was hitting the beard guy now. His friend jumped in and tried to pull him back, but Ryan was too strong. The beard guy fell to the floor next to Sophia. His eyes were closed real tight and he was curled up in a ball, but Ryan didn't stop until the big barman jumped in the way.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" The beard guy started yelling, with spit spraying from his lips. Blood was pouring out of his nose and mixing with the beard. Sophia thought it made it look better. She liked big, jolly red beards. "I just gave her one, OK?! She'll be fine!" He must be talking about the beer. She felt bad for the beard guy, because she knew she'd had more than just that one beer. It wasn't his fault she was drunk.
The barman pulled the beard guy from the ground by his hair and dragged him to the door. The beard guy tried to grab at the barman's arm, and he was screaming. Maybe he was upset about losing his hat.
Ryan was there now, sitting next to her. She couldn't really hear what he was saying anymore, but it was nice and peaceful. She liked him better when he wasn't hitting the beard guy.
I love Ryan. He's so nice. I wish he could take me to bed with him.
*
Pink.
That was the first word that came to mind. Everything was pink. Categorically pink. Overwhelmingly, undeniably pink.
Sophia closed her eyes for a moment, but when she opened them again the pinkness remained. As her vision swam into focus, though, it all became a little clearer. She was looking at a pink pillowcase, a pink duvet and pink wallpaper, and somewhere between her blurry eyes and the wall was a row of pink soft toys, bunnies and teddy bears, all staring at her with gleaming black eyes looking out from a sea of pink fur.
She turned over, dislodging a few more soft toys from the bed, and saw a single non-pink thing: Ryan slumped in an uncomfortable looking wooden chair. He seemed to be dozing, but he stirred at the sound of Sophia's movement.
"Hey," he whispered hoarsely, smiling with relief as he rubbed his eyes. "Look who finally woke up. How do you feel?"
"I'm fine," she answered by force of habit, still a little groggy. "No, wait. Everything hurts. Where am I?"
Ryan sat up in his chair, leaned forward and reached out to her temple. "You're in my friend Sara's spare room. You slept here last night. How's your head?"
Sophia winced as Ryan touched her, and she reached up to find a sheet of gauze taped to her temple. It really fucking hurt. "What the hell happened to me?"
"You don't remember?"
She thought for a moment. "I remember... I remember drinking too much. And Bruce Springsteen. And... something about a beard?"
"Well, I guess that's better than nothing. Hold still," He said. He cupped her cheek with one hand as he slowly peeled off the gauze to inspect her wound. Sophia couldn't help but lean into the warmth of his palm." Your drink was spiked by a small fraction of a man. You remember anything about that?"
Something was coming back to her, just little fragments of memory. She remembered being uncomfortable, and then feeling really sleepy, but little else apart from that. "Ummm, no, not really." A sudden fear struck her. "Did anything happen? Did he... did he do anything?"
"No no no, don't worry. We caught him trying to carry you out of the bar. He dropped you as soon as we stopped him, which explains the small mountain growing out of your head. You hit it pretty hard on the table before Sara caught you."
She definitely remembered that. The sound of her head hitting the wood came flooding back to her. She remembered, just a fraction of a second later, the sound of glass bottles on the table hitting the table as they bounced.
Ryan flicked a lock of hair from her eyes, brushed it back with his fingers and taped the gauze carefully back to her head. "OK, looks like you won't need stitches. You mi
ght have a cool little scar as a souvenir, but you won't have to worry about it unless you ever go bald." He smiled and reached to the bedside table for a glass of water and a bottle of pills. "Here, take some of these. Don't worry, it's just paracetamol."
Sophia threw back two pills and chased them with a big gulp, grateful for anything that might get rid of the dwarves hitting her brain with tiny hammers. "I... think I might remember the guy. Did he have a shitty blond beard?"
Ryan nodded. "That's him." His eyes turned dark at the memory, and his hands bunched into fists as he spoke. "Robbie fucking Snipe. We roughed him up a little, but Chuck - that's the barman, Chuck - didn't need any trouble 'cause he serves underage, so he didn't call the cops. Josh's brother's on the force, so he made a call after we left and had the guy picked up. That fucker had a pocket full of roofies and a baggie of coke, so he won't be fucking with any women for a while."
Sophia shook her head in disbelief. "Jesus. I didn't know that sort of thing really happened. I thought it was just a movie thing," she muttered, realizing exactly how childish and naive she sounded as she spoke.
"It happens all the time. Didn't your mom teach you never to accept an open drink?"
"No. Mom didn't teach me anything about alcohol." She took another gulp of water. "She just told me not to drink it."
Ryan let out an exasperated sigh. "Yet another victory for abstinence education, then."
"Huh?" Sophia's brain still wasn't quite up to speed.
"Abstinence. You know, they teach kids to just say no but they don't bother to teach them about safe sex, so the kids all end up getting pregnant because nobody ever told them what a condom was for? Same thing goes for drinking. If nobody ever teaches you about the risks you won't know how to stay safe, and you'll end up drugged, or getting your stomach pumped because you didn't know you can't drink vodka by the pint. You know what I'm saying?"
"No, not really," she snapped. She was in too much pain to be condescended to by Ryan. "I don't think I'm in the mood for lectures, and especially not from a guy who was brought home by the cops last night, wasted. You know what I'm saying?"
Ryan looked away, embarrassed. "Yeah, that was pretty dumb, but I... y'know, there was a reason I was drinking. I don't think I need to tell you what it was."
Sophia felt bad for lashing out at him. "Yeah. Yeah, I know. Sorry."
"Don't worry about it," he replied, entirely unconvincingly. He stared at the carpet for a moment, as if steeling himself for what was to come. "So, look... I've decided to head out to Notre Dame a little earlier than expected. The coach has been bugging me to spend some time in training over the summer, and I thought it might be a good idea. Y'know, I gotta work on my fitness, and it'll give me a chance to, like, get to know the campus before classes start. It just makes sense."
Sophia didn't know how to respond. She didn't know if she could respond. She'd spent most of the last couple of weeks wishing she was anywhere but a wall away from Ryan, but right now... she didn't know what to think. The idea of there being a few states between them was just too much to take in.
"I don't want you to go." Her words came out almost a whisper, and she found herself reaching out for Ryan's hand.
He took it, and clasped both hands around hers. "I don't want to go either." He looked as if he was fighting with all his strength to hold back his emotions, and failing. "I don't want to be anywhere you're not, Sophia. I want to be with you." He squeezed her hand and looked deep into her eyes, and she had to fight to pull away from his gaze. She felt as if one more second would wash away her resolve.
"I want to be with you too, but you know why we can't be together." Her voice cracked a little as she spoke.
"No, I don't," Ryan forcefully replied. "I really don't. I don't care that our parents are getting married. I don't give a fuck that people might think its wrong. I just don't care, and I don't know why you do. I love you, Sophia. That's all that matters to me."
Sophia just couldn't find the words to express her feelings. Nothing seemed appropriate. There was nothing she could possibly say that would make Ryan understand... understand that her mother's happiness was more important than her own. That she couldn't do anything to hurt her. That the family was more important than she was, and that it always would be.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just can't. I love you, but I can't." She knew her words meant nothing, but they were all she had to offer.
Ryan stared at the carpet, clutching her hand as if the moment he let go she'd vanish. "I have to go now," he said. "It's for the best."
He stood from his chair, but Sophia held onto his hand. "Please stay," she pleaded, terrified that this would be the last time she saw him.
"I can't," he replied sadly, gently pulling his hand away. "I'm sorry."
With those final words he walked out the door, leaving Sophia staring through tearful eyes at her hand, wishing harder than she'd ever wished for anything that she could feel his touch once more.
*
The afternoon sunlight reached its fingers through the side streets, and as the cab passed out of the shadows at each intersection Sophia winced at the sudden stab of pain in her head. The Ray Bans Sara had lent her did little to help, even after a few more hours of sleep since Ryan had left, but they did hide her red-rimmed eyes.
"I just realized I haven't thanked you for last night," she said, turning to Sara. "I really appreciate it. I don't dare think what might have happened if you guys hadn't been there."
Sara smiled. "Don't worry about it, sweetie. I didn't really do much to help, I'm afraid. The guys did most of the heavy lifting." She grinned at the memory. "I have to admit I do like it when Josh acts all manly like that. He can be a bit of a pansy sometimes, and it's nice to see him bring out the muscle when he has to. Turns me on." She narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell him I said that, though, or he'll start getting into fights to impress me."
"Don't worry about it," Sophia laughed. "I don't really remember much of what happened. I don't even remember getting back to your place."
Sara shook her head. "I'm not even a little surprised. You were barely awake at the bar. Ryan kept you talking a little until we got you back to the apartment, but you didn't really wake up until we got some coffee in you. After that it was all we could do to keep your feet on the ground."
"What do you mean?"
Sara grinned. "You got a little, ummm, amorous once we woke you up. I mean, we knew you were full of alcohol and God knows what that fucking asshole put in your drink, so we knew you weren't yourself, but you... well, you kinda tried to sleep with Ryan."
Sophia felt her cheeks burn up. "God, really? Do I want to know what happened?"
"Oh, don't worry, Ryan was a perfect gentleman, and he sent Josh out of the room as soon as you started to strip."
Sophia stared, open-mouthed, hoping Sara was about to tell her she was only joking. "I got naked?"
"You stripped off as soon as the guys got you to the pink hell of my sister's old bedroom. You've got a great ass, by the way." She laughed, clearly enjoying Sophia's discomfort. "You, ummm, you kind of forced yourself on Ryan a little bit. Tried to get his pants off and pull him into bed." She paused for a moment. "He wouldn't have any of it. I mean, he got hard, because... well, you're hot and he's crazy about you, but he'd never do anything like that. He just tucked you into bed and stayed beside you all night. Kinda sweet, really. I know a lot of guys who wouldn't have thought twice before fucking you."
Sophia stayed silent, but it was clear Sara wanted to say more. She chewed on her thumbnail as if trying to keep herself from speaking.
"Look, I know it's none of my business, but I just don't get it. You have feelings for Ryan, right? You want to be with him? I just don't see what the problem is. Tell me to shut up if I've overstepped the line."
Sophia shook her head. "No, it's fine." She tried to marshal her thoughts, but she still didn't know how to put her feelings into words. "You know, for the longest time I hated Ryan. I me
an, really hated his living guts. I thought he was just a player who'd fuck anything that moved."
"Yeah, I can see why you might have thought that."
"But then I saw... well, you know I saw his messages to you guys, right? I know, I know, I did a horrible thing and I'll burn in Hell for it, but I read them. It was like a switch flicked in my mind. I can't even explain it, but it was like all that hate that had burned through me for two years just switched to love, just like that, in an instant. And it scared me. It fucking terrified me, because now he wasn't just some guy from school. He's the guy living in the next room over, and he's going to be my stepbrother."
Sara nodded. "I understand why that would feel weird, but -"
"Wait, I'm not done. It's not just that he's going to be my stepbrother. I mean, that's weird enough, and people would probably look at us funny our whole lives, but that's not what worries me. I could deal with the weirdness if it meant being able to be with him.
Stepbrother Forbidden (Stepbrother, Where Art Thou? Book 2) Page 3
