by Cassie Mae
But she doesn’t want me to mother, and for the life of me, I have no idea how to be a sister.
I take a deep breath and straighten my shoulders. “Okay, brat,” I say, letting the tease slip into my voice even though I’m worried as all get out. “I’ll take you home, but you owe me a cheesy pretzel.”
She whips around to face me, and her eyes that seem so frustrated and confused and sad slowly seep into amusement. Relief spreads through my chest, and I keep going in the direction I landed on. Whatever gets my sister to be happy, no matter how briefly.
Preteens are so fun.
We head out of Claire’s, and before we exit for the parking garage, Demi suddenly changes her mind and says, “I might as well get you that cheesy pretzel while we’re here.”
So we switch gears and sit at an empty booth in the food court, three pretzels, a pack of pretzel bites, and seven different dipping sauces strewn across the table. Since she didn’t beg for a Beanie Boo or any other number of accessories in Claire’s, I had enough for a smorgasbord.
I’m dying to ask her what her deal is, but I don’t want to disturb the peace either, so I keep my trap shut.
“So… where did you go last night?” she pipes up around a piece of her parmesan pretzel. I choke on the cheesy sauce and take a swig of water before answering.
“Uh… nowhere?”
She levels me with her piercing eleven-year-old gaze that sees right through my bullshit. I can’t exactly tell her I was boarding. She’ll ask where, because nowhere lets you board that late without a trespassing charge. And if I tell her the truth, she’ll bark it out at either Pete or Candace, and there goes Tanner’s job.
“Were you with a boy?”
Ah… so that’s the direction she’s hinting at. I let out a laugh and rip a piece off my cinnamon pretzel and dunk it in the icing. “You wish.”
“For real! You need a boyfriend, Mad.”
“Why?” I wrinkle my nose for effect. “He’d just get in the way.”
“Well, Pete thinks you’re jealous,” she says unapologetically, taking a dainty bite from her pretzel. Cheese collects in the corner, and she’s horrified for the brief second it takes for her to wipe it up.
“Jealous of what? Him and Candace?”
“Yep. That’s why you’ve been acting funny since he showed us the ring.”
Guess I haven’t been as poker-faced as I thought. It’s funny how their thoughts went that direction and not in the actual problem, and they are family. While Tanner was on the nose.
I plop another piece into my mouth and lick the icing from the corner instead of dabbing with a napkin. “I’m happy for them.”
“That’s what you say.”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“Then why do you look so sad when you say it?”
Pete and I have a pact never to let Demi experience the hardships we had to at her age, and venting about my money woes would break that pact in half.
“It’s dumb. Don’t worry about it.”
“But I do worry about it.” She leans forward, her elbows tilting the booth table slightly.
“Stop trying to mother me,” I tease, and she blows a big raspberry in my direction and takes my cheesy sauce. “Hey!” I reach for the sauce, but she swings it out of the way, and then the goodness dribbles from the ramekin and onto the bench seat next to her. She squeals and scoots away from it like a snake just landed, then holds out her hand that’s covered in cheese.
“Get it off!”
I laugh and pull out napkin after napkin. “Totally your fault,” I tell her as I clean her up. Thank heavens she forgets what we were talking about, and we spend the rest of our food court time talking about her nerves for starting middle school in a week. Gotta say, as nervous as she is, I’m way more scared.
After the food court, she lets me go to Boxed Lunch and cringes at my outfit choices. “Wear a skirt just once, Maddie!”
Um… no.
I get a new Star Wars top with Rey’s yellow lightsaber displayed across the chest and a pair of black shorts I plan on rocking for absolutely no one but Tanner tonight at Troublemakers. Like he gives a shit, but hey, they’ll be comfortable to board in.
It’s close to eight o’clock when we get home, and I grin as I throw the car in park, happy she changed her attitude after Claire’s. Not sure what was up, and I’m still surprised she didn’t want anything. In fact, I didn’t buy her anything, which is rare for a mall trip. She’s usually packing five or six bags into our little apartment, along with a giant smile.
The smile’s there tonight, but certainly not as bright as we truck up the four steps to our door. When we step inside, a loud shuffle and an “Ouch!” filters in from the living room. Recognizing Pete and Candace’s voices—and grunts, unfortunately—I give them a little time to right themselves and whatever clothing before turning around the corner.
Demi, however, doesn’t quite get the hint and takes off.
“Candace!”
“H-hey, girl.”
I crack a grin at the fumbled greeting, then follow my sister into the living room. As I thought, Candace runs her fingers through the strands of her auburn hair, brushing out the chaos Pete inflicted while they had the place to themselves.
Demi bounces on the couch next to Pete, ignoring his rumpled shirt and red cheeks. “Did you do it yet?”
Pete’s eyes bug out, and he quickly puts a finger to his lips.
“Do what?” Candace tilts her head. Her nail gets caught in a tangle in her hair, and I jump over and help her out with it.
Pete smooths out his shirt. “Oh, she wants to know if I’ve asked you to marry me.”
An electric shock that zaps through my spine stops my hands right there in Candace’s hair. I stare at my future sister-in-law—assuming she says yes—and wait to see if she takes him seriously.
Candace lets out a snort, and her gaze turns to Demi. “Oh that.” Then a wicked smile turns her lips, and I catch a glimmer of light reflecting off her thumb. “He sure did.”
Demi squeals so loud I shrink back from the sound. She bounces from one couch cushion to another until she’s leaping into Candace’s arms. “We’re gonna be sisters!”
Candace catches her, oofing at the weight. Demi’s small for her age—Pete is the only one who got the tall gene—but she’s no picnic to carry. Candace loses her grip and they topple down to the recliner that’s luckily right behind her.
I realize I’m not smiling. Actually, shock has rendered my entire body useless. Pete showed us the ring two days ago; I really thought I’d have more time to process, more time to prepare for the reality of it all… what his engagement will mean for our family dynamic. Now I’m plunged in, and I’m not ready.
Pete meets my gaze, and I watch his smile fade and fade into a twisted curl of concern, and I beg my face to be excited. I beg my eyes to show just how happy I should feel right now. I plead for my lips to curl upward. But they won’t listen. Fear has taken control of every single muscle.
“Why’s it on your thumb?” Demi asks from Candace’s lap as they admire the diamond.
“Your brother thought I had really big fingers, apparently.”
“Pete!” Demi giggles and swivels the ring around Candace’s thumb. There is nothing but happiness in that girl at least. Maybe she can send some of that over here. “Now she can’t show it off.”
“We’ll get it resized. Chill.” His grin is back, but not really. He keeps looking my way, and I know he’s waiting for a change in my reaction, but it’s not coming. I want to tell him I’m trying but my body ain’t working right, but my voice is packed behind panic, and it won’t budge its way out.
“Before the party?” Demi asks.
Candace’s dark brown eyes widen and shoot over to Pete. “What party…?”
A sheepish smile pulls his lips. “Our engagement party.”
She narrows her eyes. “No.”
“Yes.”
“Pete…”
“Candace.”
“You know how I feel about parties.”
“Yes, but I want to show people how I feel about you.”
Whomp, there it is. My brother, for all his faults, does know how to hit with the sweet stuff at the right time. And I know at that moment—and so does Candace—that there will be an engagement party.
Candace purses her lips and takes one look at Demi who can’t stop playing with the ring. I take stock of where my muscles are, if they’ll cooperate yet, but I’m stuck at a standstill, my fingers itching to text Tanner to add extra shifts to his schedule simply so he can sneak me inside every single night.
As if he knows I’m still struggling, Pete swivels his gaze to me again. “What’d you get?”
My brow furrows, and I’m grateful at least some part of my face is moving. “Hmm?” I croak.
He nods to the bags in my hand, the ones I completely forgot about.
“She got boring clothes,” Demi pipes in, and gratitude wraps around my heart and gets my voice working again.
“Which I’m going to try on,” I say, happy I have a great excuse to leave and process. “Congratulations, you guys.” Good… I think that sounded genuine. It gets a sweet smile from Candace, at least.
“Thanks, Maddie.”
I lift my bags like that will be a good substitute for my voice and head upstairs to my room. Lucky me, I got the master suite since I’m the oldest. So I can shut myself in here all night if I want… no need for hallway run-ins during a trip to the bathroom.
I plop on the bed and stare at the ceiling, the burn of tears crawling through the backs of my eyes and blurring my vision. The weight of what Pete’s engagement will do crushes to my chest, and I sink in the mattress, wheezing through the heaviness of it all.
He takes care of half of the expenses, so I will have to double my income somehow or make even more budget-friendly choices. If I don’t get a sponsorship, I’ll have to figure something out. Even if I do get one, I’ll have to make sure the contract is gonna work for me and Dem.
All of that is of course plaguing me, but I realize as I sit and cry in silence that there’s something else. Something hidden in the corners of my mind that I can’t seem to pinpoint until I start thinking about when Pete and I first moved out together just under a decade ago. Even before leaving our parents’ house, we had each other’s backs. It’s been the two of us for my whole life, and now it won’t be.
A fresh wave of tears hit me. I’m not just gaining all the responsibilities of the house; I’m losing my brother.
I’m going to do it.
I’m going to tell Mad I’m in love with her.
The silence around me as I boost up the lights over the Wheel Zone allows me to hear the unhealthy tremble of my breath. I swallow hard and pray to the high heavens that I don’t chicken out tonight.
We’re gonna be all alone here. I’ve got my board ready and a speech in case I need it. I binged The Office and watched the Casino episode on repeat, studying on how Jim perfected the art of telling a best friend that you are absolutely in love with them.
It’ll happen this time.
I pull my phone out and check the time. Mad said she’d be there at ten sharp; she needed the boarding time to put together a routine. I wasn’t working tonight, so I had to wait for everyone to leave before unlocking the back door and sneaking in. Wasn’t hard, either, which makes me a bit worried about our security here. But considering I’m one of the few with a key, maybe we’re okay.
After turning the lights on, I shake out some nerves and push the back door open. It’s 9:55, but Mad is exceptionally punctual.
Just as I thought, her silver Toyota Camry glides into the parking lot at 9:57. My heart kicks up, and I straighten my spine. I rehearsed it in my head. Do it before she boards. Do it before I have the chance to talk myself out of it.
She steps out of the car and gives me a tiny wave. My brows pull in. Her eyes are puffy again. She turns from me quickly and ducks in the backseat for her board and helmet, and my stomach ties itself into a bundle of concerned knots by the time she finally reaches me.
“Uh oh,” I say at the frown distorting her gorgeous lips.
“Yep.” She slithers past me and walks backward down the long hallway to the half-pipe. “Get ready for some real angry boarding.”
***
Mad’s been on the course for two hours and hasn’t said a word. I’ve taken the hint that she needs the quiet, she needs the therapy only boarding can give her. Since I don’t have nearly the stamina she’s got, I’m hunkered down at the top of a quarter pipe, my phone camera out, and I’m snapping stills and recording some great tricks she hasn’t done in a while.
Every time she falls, she pushes to her feet and jumps on the board before I have a chance to ask if she’s hurt. It’s been a rough run for her tonight, but she’s still going.
Around 12:10, she lands a toeflip and then boards toward me. She rolls up the quarter pipe, jumps off the board, and catches the thing before it hits me in the head. A large breath whooshes past her lips as she rests next to me, her body barely an inch away.
“I think I’ve finally figured it out,” she wheezes. I quickly hand her water.
“And what’s that?” Since I have no clue what the hell has got her so in her head tonight, and I don’t want to prod where I’m not wanted, I offer up an encouraging grin. “I mean… if you’re ready to divulge.”
He lets out a breathy laugh and takes another large gulp from the water bottle. Sweat rolls down her neck as she swallows, collecting in the hollows of her collarbones. Her chest rises and falls with the exertion of boarding for so long without a break, and heat spread throughout my body. If I could be bold, reach out and hold her, I could cool her off, be her sounding board.
Instead I lean back, propping myself up on my elbows, getting some much needed air.
She licks her lips free from the water and sweat, slowly screwing the cap back on the bottle. “Pete proposed tonight.”
I raise a brow. “That was fast.”
A hollow laugh billows from her mouth. “Yeah. The date is Valentine’s Day. So I’ve got a little more than six months to come up with a game plan.”
“And you think you’ve got it?”
She holds a finger up. “For the most part. Still thinking through the kinks. But another couple brainstorming sessions on a board should do it.”
I chuckle and push up off my elbows. “Just give me a head’s up for when you need help.”
“Will do.” She lets out a long exhale, and for the first time tonight, a smile teases the corner of her mouth. Her hazel eyes drift toward mine briefly before she drops her head to my shoulder. “You’re kind of the best, you know.”
I freeze underneath her, sweat building in my palms. I completely lose hold of my board, and it rolls down the quarter pipe and bangs against the grinding bar.
“Whoops,” I croak. She silently laughs against me, and I feel every movement, every shake of her amusement, every gorgeous and joyful hitch in her breathing.
“I will tell you all of my drama at some point,” she says, lifting her head and resting her chin on my shoulder. Her eyes are so alive right now, so full of passion. I love what boarding does for her, and what she does for me. “Just not tonight.”
“Hey, you don’t owe me anything,” I manage to say without croaking my way through it.
“I kinda do. You are breaking a lot of rules for me.” She sits back, breaking that small contact and washing me with a cold wave of clarity. “But even if you weren’t, you’re a real good person to talk it out with.”
“Objective party?” I ask.
“No.” She pushes to her feet and offers me a hand. “I like talking to you. I can tell you anything.”
I get to my feet, my shaking hand lingering in hers. “Likewise.”
Now could be it. Perfect segue. We can tell each other anything… including those three little words. My voice locks up behind my to
ngue, and I beg it to be of some use to me. Do it now.
A chime from Mad’s pocket rings through the air, and she drops my hand. “Damn,” she says, pulling out her phone with the R2D2 cover. “I gotta run. If I’m not back by 1:00, Pete gets suspicious.”
She hitches her board up on her shoulders, and we walk together to mine. I shut all the lights off, my brain still yelling at my voice to work, but it’s not listening. The moment’s gone, and I don’t think it’s coming back tonight.
Next time, though. I will tell her next time.
I’m gonna do it.
Today. Tonight, actually.
I’m gonna tell Brink I’m totally into her, and we should be a thing, but I’m gonna say it a lot better than that.
I tug at my collar, cringing against the material. Pete said this party wasn’t a formal thing, but to get out of my uniform. I don’t know… hearing engagement party triggered button-shirt images, and when I asked my mom, she said I should dress up.
The buttoned shirt had to be ironed, which hell if I know how to do that, so I stuck it in the dryer for an hour and went with that, but it still has some wrinkles in it. I don’t own a plain t-shirt, and I wanted to be prepared in case Mad wanted to board again tonight, so I’m wearing a blue tee with yellow print splayed across the chest that if people were to look really close, they’d see the graphic right through this buttoned-up mess.
I run a hand through my hair, forgetting that I pomaded the crap out of it, so my hand comes back waxy and greasy. Shit, this done-up stuff isn’t made for people like me.
I wipe the stuff on my jeans, forgetting I’m supposed to be keeping those nice too. Ugh, forget it.
Troublemakers is dark, the outside lights shut off and the sign on the door saying Closed for Private Party. The parking lot is packed. I don’t own a car, so I board down the street in my “formal wear” and kick my ride into my hands as I make my way to the door. I weave in between Pete’s motorcycle and Brink’s car, my heart double-timing as I see her helmet sitting in the backseat.
