13 #3
My legs wrap around him to pull him even closer, his hands move up my thigh, his fingers touching the rim of my pink lace underwear.
We briefly pull back and I see his eyes are glazed over.
His face is a wonder, it’s no surprise every newspaper in the country agrees he is an esoteric beauty. One of a kind.
Lost in a trance, I find my way back to his swollen lips. I’m not sure how long we kiss for but a loud bang has us drifting apart, which is when I finally come back to my senses.
Too close, he is too close.
In an instant I shove him away, remembering exactly why we wouldn’t be doing this, and he staggers back then tries to touch me but I flinch.
“St. Annabel.”
“Don’t… don’t say anything,” I whisper, the realisation of what I have done settles in and the crippling guilt that fills my lungs makes it too hard to breathe. I claw at my throat and basically run out on him.
I exit the bathroom, walking as fast as I can on shaky legs, without looking back to see if Arden follows behind.
Hoping no one has noticed how long I have been gone.
How long we have both been gone. I stew on it and decide it best that I go home and come up with an excuse as to why I have to leave so abruptly.
I text our group chat fibbing about a headache, although at this point I’m not so sure it is much of a lie.
Then I send a separate text to the cause, Make sure Harley gets home safe .
I switch off my phone without waiting to see a response. And that is the last of all I remember before I get home and pass out.
The violent headache that greets me the next morning is nothing compared to the sinking feeling that returns once I remembered the details of the night before.
I kissed a man who isn’t mine. And I loved it. What kind of a person does that make me? Willing to indulge in fleeting temptation at the expense of someone who is dear to me. I can’t even blame the alcohol. I was mostly sober by then.
“Looking like crap must be a common occurrence for you,” Harley says from the entrance of the sitting room, I lift my head up from my sofa as she passes me a cup of coffee. She splits the curtains wide open, not even apologetic as the sun blinds me.
“Regret is the vibe for the day,” I grumble, muttering my thanks before taking a sip. Yuck. There is almost no milk in this, but I can’t complain, Harley making this is her extending an olive branch.
“Why did you leave last night without saying anything?”
“Almost blacked out on my way to the bathroom,” I lie . “Did you get home okay?”
“Your friend, Richie, gave me a ride,” Harley replies, and my face twists in amused horror at the nickname.
“Please, tell me you didn’t call him that to his face?”
“Once or twice,” she says with a one arm shrug and a smirk. I start to laugh but immediately groan once my headache resumes.
She sits down on the far end of the sofa, which is notably as far away from me as possible on the other end of the sofa, which quickly reminds me we are due a conversation that neither of us can run away from.
Father always told me being the eldest meant being a guiding light and in times of unrest I would have to be the one to step up to the plate. I’m not the oldest anymore, still I take the first step in broaching the subject we were both avoiding as we lay back sipping on bad coffee.
“I’m sorry about our screaming match,” I breathe out, “especially in front of everyone like that. That was entirely out of character for me.
“I feel like I haven't given you the chance to see the real me, but you haven't either,” I accuse, and she at least had the courtesy to look a little guilty. “Ever since you got here, you've had one foot in and one foot out.” She starts to speak but I cut her off.
“Fair enough, you’ve told me your plan from the moment you arrived.
Milk our father for his money then leave.
” I keep my eyes pointed at her as she glares at her coffee cup as though it is more interesting than the conversation that we are having.
“And I respect that completely but I can’t help the part of me that at least wants to know the girl who is meant to be my sister. ”
“Maybe we won't ever be the best of friends,” I continue, “but I do want us to be cordial. You are going to be living here and nothing good will come from being at each other's throats. We’re going to still be sisters whether or not you decide to leave right now or in a year.”
“Is that all?” Harley responds with an eyebrow raised. I nod, spreading my hands to give her the floor to speak. “You weren’t the only one at fault that day.” She sighs before continuing, “In all fairness, you and I both know I started it but I appreciate you trying to take some of the heat.”
Abruptly, she stands up almost like giving an apology burns her, she mutters, “You’re right. I can be cordial.”
She leaves me sitting there on my own but gives me as much of a smile as she can muster before leaving my line of sight.
The smile on my face that appeared as a result was unbreakable.
I can feel myself being able to breathe a little better.
I am able to stop at least one thing in my life from going wrong and I am proud of that.
It is a start and that’s all I can ask for.