23. Izzy
23
IZZY
Derrick is down the street at the diner, breaking the news to his kids. Meanwhile, my sister is waiting inside the coffee shop—no doubt watching me have an internal freakout on the sidewalk outside.
Stop being a wimp!
Why am I so scared? I can’t imagine my sister lecturing me. I’m a grown woman, not a silly teenager with a crush.
With a succinct nod, I repeat that phrase and head for the door. It’s time to do this.
Before I can reach for the door handle, my sister pushes it open from the inside. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks, brow furrowed. “You’re hopping around like your tampon is in wrong.”
“Via,” I laugh, the vise in my chest loosening.
Years ago, my straitlaced sister would never have made a comment like that. It makes my heart ache in a good way to watch her grow into herself.
“Get in here.” She steps to one side. “I already ordered you a matcha.”
I follow her to where our drinks sit at the counter, waving to Cindy behind the register, then to a table by the front window.
She tucks a strand of hair, the same dark brown shade as mine, behind her ear with nails painted a bright orange color. That’s something else that’s changed. Before she moved to Parkerville, she only wore muted pinks on her nails. Tones that complemented demure, professional clothing. Now, she gets to express herself.
“I hate that we’ve spent so little time together since you got here. Thank you for inviting me this morning.”
I take a sip of my drink to give myself a moment to collect my thoughts, sure she’ll be blindsided by what I have to say.
“Yeah, I thought we should catch up.”
“So”—she smiles, giving my hand a pat—“what’s going on with you? Are you heading back to LA soon?”
“Uh, no, actually.” I rub my nose, stalling. “I like living with Derrick. He’s going to let me film some before and after builds for my channel.”
She perks up, holding her cup with both hands. “That’s cool. Do you think it’ll go over well with your audience? It’s different from your normal content.”
I wipe at the condensation already forming on my cup. “I hope so. It was getting a little monotonous. I thought I’d try something new.”
“It’s good you’re enjoying it.” Her lips kick up on one side. “And how is it living with Derrick? ”
My face instantly gets hot. I can only imagine how red it is. I’m assaulted by memories of the way he fucked me on his bathroom counter. I don’t think I’m ever going to stop thinking about that. I take a long drink of my ice-cold matcha, willing it to lower my body temperature.
“It’s going well. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Ooh!” She brightens, patting my hand where it rests on the table. “Are you thinking about buying a place here? If you plan on staying a lot, it would be nice for you to have your own space.”
“Actually—”
“Oh, is that why you’re filming the before and after thing? Is Derrick fixing up a place for you?”
“Via, I… no, I’m not buying a house. At least not right now.”
“Sorry.” Her smile falls. “I got a bit carried away.”
“It’s okay.” I rub my fingers over my mouth, working up the nerve to get the words out. “That’s not what I wanted to tell you.”
“Okay, tell me. I’m all ears.” She mimes zipping her lips.
God, I’m embarrassed. Not because I’m ashamed of Derrick in any way, but because of the overall situation. Because of the likely awkwardness it’ll create.
“I’m seeing Derrick. We’ve… there’s chemistry between us, and we’ve decided to give this a shot. See where it goes.” I shrug, like it’s no big deal, when in reality, it’s everything.
When she’s silent, her mouth parted in shock, I find my own running to fill that void. “I really like him, Via-Mia. More than I’ve ever liked a guy, and you know how big my crush on Tyler Vandell was my sophomore year. ”
Via shakes her head like she’s freeing herself from her stupor. “You and Derrick?”
“Yes.” I nod, tracing my index finger over a whorl in the wooden tabletop. “We don’t want to keep this a secret. You guys mean too much to us to do that, so while this is extremely new, and may seem strange to you, we wanted to be up front about it.”
She tilts her head, looking at me in the way only my older sister can—with understanding and a little bit of humor.
“I can’t say I’m surprised. I figured you’d hook up with him at some point, but I thought that’s all it would be.”
My heart lurches. “Why would you think that?”
With a snort, she wraps her fingers around her cup. “The way you look at him makes it obvious, and I guess I can’t blame you. He’s a good-looking man.”
“Oh, God.” I cringe, hiding my face behind my hands. “How do I look at him?”
“With hearts in your eyes.”
I flush with embarrassment, wishing I could sink beneath the table. Maybe even the floorboards themselves. “I can’t help it. He’s so hot. In a rugged, good with his hands, lumberjack kind of way.”
Via dissolves into laughter, practically melting into the table when she crosses her arms and lays her head on them.
“I can’t believe you’re laughing right now,” I cry. “I thought you were going to freak out and judge me and tell me he’s too old for me.”
Straightening, she sobers. “Izzy.” She clutches my hand and gives it a squeeze. There are already specks of paint on her fingers like she woke up this morning and couldn’t resist working on a piece. “It would be hypocritical of me to judge you for being with an older man when I’m with a man who’s eleven years younger than I am.”
“I’m the same age as Layla,” I say, voicing one of my biggest worries. “That’s weird, right?”
She hums, thoughtful. “I’m not going to sugarcoat that part for you. She’s your friend and she works for you, so it may be hard for her to come to terms with. But if you and I are having this conversation, then is it safe to assume that you’ve decided it’s worth the risk?”
“Yes.” With a sharp nod, I reach up to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, but I lower it when I remember I put my hair in a ponytail today. “I have.”
“It’s okay to be scared, but focus on what the two of you are building. Don’t stress about the other stuff. Everything works out in the end. Just look at Reid and me.”
“You’re okay with this?”
She gives a soft laugh. “Of course I am. You’re an adult, so is he. All that matters to me is that you’re happy.”
“Thank you.”
My heart lifts, floating like a buoy. I needed her love and support even more than I realized.
“Are you telling Mom and Dad?”
I grimace. “Not yet. You know how Mom is.”
My relationship with our parents might be less strained than hers, but it doesn’t mean our mom doesn’t judge me as well. There’s no way she’d ever approve of this.
She laughs. “Believe me, I know. I don’t blame you for keeping it to yourself. Should we head down to the shop? Are you in the mood to paint?”
I sag against the back of my seat, thankful for her ability to lighten the moment and get life back on track. “Yeah, that would be great. ”
Outside, drink in hand, I link my arm with hers.
In this moment, I feel eons away from the girl who was canceled all those months ago. I still have plenty of healing to do and mountains of details to figure out, but I think I’m finally stepping into the person I was always meant to be.