3. Reese
3
REESE
“What the hell were you thinking?” Lilian screeches, her eyes flashing with renewed horror. I instinctively look down like I always do whenever I get yelled at.
My sister is only a year older than me, but in many ways, she’s always been a maternal figure to me. Probably because she was practically the only one who raised me my entire life. Our dad wasn’t in the picture, and our mom’s a piece of work.
“I wasn’t thinking,” I admit with a cringe. “But, Lili, he looked awful?—”
“He could have been a criminal!” she booms, her voice sharp as a blade, and I almost flinch.
My mouth curves into something reassuring before I return my attention to the breakfast sandwich I’m making. “He wasn’t. He goes to Belford?—”
“Ah, yes,” she says dryly, “because criminals would never lie about their lives.”
“Lili.” I set the sandwich down and push the plate toward her.
Her gaze remains on me, a troubled expression crossing her face. “You could have gotten hurt,” she hisses, stressing out every syllable as the amount of focus in her eyes doubles.
“I wasn’t,” I murmur, but I know she has a point. Taking a stranger back to my place was not a good call.
“You should have called me,” she adds, and the note of hurt in her angry tone sends a wave of regret through my heart. “I could have helped you.”
Ducking my head, I turn my back to her so that I’m facing my kitchen stove, no longer hungry as guilt assails me. My stomach twists into a complicated knot. “I didn’t want to bother you,” I whisper lamely, admitting the truth.
Lilian has done so much for me.
Almost two years ago, my sister and her sorority hosted a bunch of fundraisers to help pay for my medical bills.
Last year, she’d been my emotional rock, always consistently by my side, so I’d never felt alone. It took a lot of swaying from me to convince her to live at her sorority house again this year—that I’ll be fine living by myself, and we can save a lot of money by not renting an on-campus apartment together again, especially when campus housing is absurdly expensive.
But beyond that, she’s always been there for me through everything, and I feel like a never-ending source of responsibility to her. I don’t want to be her responsibility. I just want to be her sister again.
“You don’t bother me,” she snaps. “This bothers me.”
“What happened happened,” I whisper, feigning nonchalance. I quickly fix my own egg sandwich, eagerly seeking any distraction I can afford. “And he didn’t steal anything.”
I don’t point out that I have nothing to steal. Besides my expensive laptop, which is immediately locked away in my desk’s drawer the moment I come home from school or work.
“I wouldn’t have minded him taking the blankets,” I add, swallowing hard. The bloodied throw blankets were what alerted Lilian to what had happened in the first place.
Her protective mama bear instincts came in first; then her overprotective sister mode kicked in seconds later when she found out the days-old bloodstains weren’t from me.
I can understand why she freaked out, though. I couldn’t stomach looking at the throws when I tossed them into the washer downstairs, either.
With my sandwich made, I slide into the seat beside her, waiting for her to chew me out some more. The atmosphere is taut with silence; the tension hangs palpably in the air.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” she reluctantly admits, her voice softening.
Wordlessly, I peek over at her in surprise. A flicker of skepticism sparks inside me. I love my sister, but she can be headstrong and bullheaded on certain things the moment her mind’s made up, and that’s me being polite with my choice of words.
She sighs loudly, pressing her thumb against her brow bone. “It was nice of you to offer him a place to stay, but he could have bled to death on your futon.”
My chest tightens. Her face falters.
“Sorry. Poor choice of words. What I mean is that he's not your responsibility,” she explains. “You should have called the police.”
“I know.” Truthfully, I don’t think it’ll do me any good to argue with her that the guy was the one who wouldn't stop insisting on no cops. I finally look up again to meet her moody gaze. “How are the girls?”
“Fine.” Lilian sniffs, blessedly going along with the shift in conversation. She’s usually not the type to let the topic derail from what she wants to talk about. “Lauren’s throwing something next week if you want to come.”
The idea of going to a sorority party is as appealing as getting a root canal. I don’t say that out loud, of course. I just let my grimace speak for me.
My sister’s been trying to get me out of my shell. That’s been her game plan since the moment I stepped foot on Belford U’s campus, and she’s doubled down on it in the year since. She thinks it’ll do me some good and help me get my mind off of things. More importantly, it’ll help me with my healing process or whatever it was she said at the beginning of the semester.
It won’t, but I’m not telling her that. I don’t want to set off her alarm bells. As long as she thinks I’m better than ever, she’ll cut me some slack. And I’d much rather my sister not worry herself sick over me.
Besides, I am doing better. I’m not in as bad a place as I was two years ago or even last year. There’s been some improvement. I’m just moving at my own pace.
“Everyone is going to be there,” Lilian adds before I can say anything. It’s probably the understatement of the year. They throw the biggest ragers at their off-campus house, and anyone who’s someone always shows up. “Like Caleb.”
Heat blooms on my cheeks. My shoulders hunch while I stare at my egg sandwich like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. “ Shh .”
“It’s not like he’s here.” She makes a circular motion with her hand, gesturing to my bedroom door. “Unless he’s hiding in there while we’re having breakfast.”
My sister and I usually have breakfast together on the weekends, even though I know it means she bailed on her sorority brunches. Usually, I enjoy spending time with her, but lately, we haven’t gone one day without her bringing up my crush.
“Just ask him out,” she tells me, like it’s not hard. Maybe for her, it isn’t.
“No way.” I shake my head. “He doesn’t know who I am.”
“Yes, he does,” she insists, and I stifle a groan.
I know she means well, but I wish she’d take a step back and let me breathe a little. I’ve been working up the courage to ask Caleb out myself, and her pushiness has only set me back, if anything.
“He knows who you are.”
“Yeah, as Lili Vann’s younger sister .”
She allows herself a weary sigh. “Maybe you can point me out to him there.”
Shooting her a sidelong glance, I furrow a brow. “Caleb?”
“The guy you saved,” my sister clarifies.
“Oh.” I shrug a shoulder. “Yeah, maybe.”
My sister loves parties, but I’m not keen on them.
There are just too many people. Too many strangers. Too much noise. It’s overwhelming, and I get overstimulated fast. I feel even crappier when Lilian sticks to me like a second shadow, so I don’t feel alone or out of my element.
As much as I appreciate the gesture, it makes me feel guilty that I’m keeping her from enjoying her sorority’s parties because she’s too busy practically babysitting me.
I decide not to point out that I have been keeping an eye out for him for a couple of days now. It’s not like he’d be hard to miss with how bad his face looked. But I can’t blame him for missing classes if he’s trying to rest and recuperate.
Unless he bled to death…
Oh God, Reese. What if he’s like a cat ? The ones that’ll let their natural instincts kick in and isolate themselves to die alone ? You should have forced him to go to the hospital.
Yeah, how would you manage that ? He’s twice your size and could probably overpower you even when he’s injured.
That’s not a comforting thought at all. My stomach churns, and I set my sandwich down.
“So, you’ll be there?” my sister asks, breaking my train of thought.
“I guess,” I hedge, picking up my mug. “If I don’t have work that night.”
“Great!” Lilian beams, ever the optimist.
I take a huge mouthful of coffee and swallow it down so that I don’t have to say anything else.
“Are you sure you’re gonna be fine here?” My sister’s standing in the doorway, reluctance ringing in her deep voice.
“You’re going to be downstairs,” I remind her. With my body curled under her violet-colored comforter, I’m practically tucked away in the room she shares with her roommate, Karla. “Go have fun.”
I’m just thankful they’re letting me hang out here instead of forcing me to mingle with people downstairs. This seems to be the silent compromise Lili and I have agreed upon. At least they’re respecting my boundaries.
She heaves out a sigh, streaking her fingers through her glossy blonde hair. Trepidation shines across her heart-shaped face. “Text me if you need anything.” With a rare warm smile I haven’t seen in a long while, she shuts the door behind her.
Readjusting myself so that my back’s pressed against the corner and I get a good view of the door, I spend the next two hours combing through on-campus job listings to see what else is out there.
Art pop plays softly through my trusty pair of headphones. I can hear EDM blaring downstairs and vibrating through the floor, but I mostly ignore it.
Browsing the list, a part-time gig at an ice cream shop snares my attention. I click on the link, ready to send in a copy of my resume when I hear the creaky sound of a door opening.
I look up and scoot backward, elbow immediately connecting with the headboard of Lilian’s bed. Terror seizes every muscle in my body, and I’m rendered frozen. Stock-still. Nausea creeps up my throat just as the guy pulls his hoodie down and steps into the room.
“Whoa, I didn’t realize anyone was up here.”
“Caleb?” My heart goes from thumping wildly out of sheer fear to thumping wildly out of panic as my stupid crush returns in full force.
He flashes his dreamy smile, and my pulse flatlines. “Mind if I use the bathroom?” He gestures to the door near the foot of Karla's bed.
“Go ahead,” I tell him, a blush creeping up my neck at how squeaky my voice is.
It’s just Caleb , I remind myself, wringing the fabric of Lili’s comforter. You know he’s a nice guy . An absolute sweetheart.
The first time I saw him was at a sorority party Lilian dragged me to last year. I was overwhelmed, not having a good time, and doing my best not to freak out in front of Lili, so I snuck to the kitchen for a breather. That’s when I saw him. He was in the middle of rescuing a spider from its shoe-stomping doom and setting it free outside in the backyard. Since then, I’ve been carrying a silly crush on him.
Another smile is sent my way, one that makes his green eyes crease and my heart stutter, before he ducks into the bathroom.
I exhale deeply when the bathroom door shuts, counting to ten repeatedly. My fingers rake my hair, and I’m suddenly aware of how messy it is—and that my sweater is off, exposing my collarbones with the thin tank top I’m wearing.
I’m quick to grab one of Lili’s blankets and wrap it around myself, bundling up as if it’s not a hot September evening.
He emerges from the bathroom a minute later, and my mouth twists into something awkward, tight-lipped out of sheer nervousness. And so I can refrain from the horrifying idea of stammering at him.
“So,” he prompts, glancing my way. “Why are you hiding up here?”
“Me? Hiding?” I cough awkwardly. He’s not wrong. I am hiding, but that sounds lame to say out loud. I rack my brain for a legitimate excuse. “I’m not in the partying mood.”
“Me neither,” he admits, sparing a soft chuckle as his eyes scan the room. They land on a picture on Lilian’s desk. It’s a framed picture of us two when we were kids, looking out of place with how dramatically dark her side of the room is. Her half is decorated in shades of black, violet, and lavender. “Not really feeling it, either.”
“Then why are you here?” I blurt, then wince at my outburst.
“My friends dragged me here.” He blows out a breath. “If I had my way, I’d be at home right now, reading.”
He reads for fun? Oh God, my silly crush on him grows even bigger.
“What are you reading?” I ask, curious. It doesn’t escape me that this is probably the longest conversation we’ve ever had, and it’s taking all of my willpower to stay calm and not freak out.
He bashfully runs his hand through his curly brown hair, hesitating for a moment. “It’s this book that takes place on a spaceship. The engine stops running, the hatch to the shuttle bay is faulty, and people start to turn on each other?—”
“Wait. Is this the one where they have to vote who they’re going to send outside to fix the engine and pretty much sacrifice themselves?” I ask, my heart drumming against my breastbone in a steady thrum. When he nods, I sit up straight, excitement buzzing across my entire body. “Oh my God, I’ve been reading that book.”
“Really?”
“ Yes .” I grin at him. “I haven’t had a chance to finish it, though.”
“I’m not done with it either,” he says. “Maybe we can be reading buddies?”
The corners of my lips hitch upward into something bright and untamable. “Really?” I say, nodding enthusiastically. “Okay. Sure.”
I can’t tell if it’s because I like the idea of having someone to be reading buddies with, or if I’m enthusiastic about getting to do something with Caleb Marsden. Both, obviously.
“Cool.” His tongue clicks a beat. “We should exchange numbers.”
“Of course.” I unplug my phone from a charger on Lilian’s nightstand and hand it to him, watching him punch a string of digits.
“I’m Caleb, by the way.”
I know. I don’t point out that we’ve interacted a few times last year. Or that Lilian’s sorority sisters would gently tease me and try to no avail to get me to ask him out. Instead, something shy graces my lips. “Reese.”
His mouth curves. God, it’s such a nice smile. “Nice to meet you, Reese.”
My heartbeat begins to race. He called me Reese. Not Lili Vann’s younger sister. Reese.