Chapter 8
EIGHT
JESSICA
I’m on my bed, watching a TV show, when my sister raps her knuckles on the door and pops her head inside. “Knock, knock.”
Summer opens the door farther and walks in.
“Everything okay? You seemed distracted at dinner.” She shuts the door then sits on the edge of the bed, and I close my laptop, patting the space next to me.
“Ever done something you shouldn’t have done?” I ask when she joins me.
She tucks her curly hair behind her ear. “I mean, maybe, I guess.”
A weak smile tugs at the corner of my mouth, and I rest my head on her shoulder. My sister is too good for this world. She isn’t broken like me. She doesn’t get off on taking control and forcing men to submit.
Ever since I returned home, I’ve cringed every time I think back on what I did to Kane. It was hot, but he must think I have a screw loose. Because who does that? Who points a gun at someone and tells them to jerk off? And why do I want to do it again?
“Did something happen?” Summer asks, her voice filled with concern.
“No.” My head shakes softly. “Nothing happened.”
Interlacing our fingers, she rests her temple on mine. “I went to see Mom today.”
My throat clogs up, and I clear it. I visit our mom almost every day, but a certain someone distracted me today, and I’m not sure how to feel about it.
On the one hand, Mom won’t notice my absence because of how progressed her illness is. But on the other hand, guilt still gnaws at me. I shouldn’t get distracted. I should be there.
“How was she?”
“She was sleeping,” Summer says quietly, tracing my fingers. “The nurse explained that the new medication is making her sleepy.”
My nose pricks, and I wiggle it as tears start to burn.
Summer stays silent, but I can hear her smile when she finally says, “Remember the time Mom made a fort in the yard out of blankets and cushions, and we camped for the night?”
Those were happier times. If only I had a time machine that could take me back.
“I was upset that we couldn’t afford a tent.” I wipe away a stray tear. “Madison had told everyone about her amazing camping trip with her family, and I wanted us to do the same: sleep beneath the stars, light a campfire, burn marshmallows.”
“Instead, she got us one of those disposable barbecues, and Chris almost set fire to the fort trying to light it.”
“Dad was drunk that night, remember?”
“I remember. He smacked Mom because she forgot to pick up more beer.” She falls silent.
“She didn’t forget,” I murmur. “She just didn’t want him drinking in the house.”
Summer steers us back to happier memories. “My favorite part was when Chris ate so many marshmallows that he was sick for hours.”
“That’s just typical Chris,” I reply, shifting to face her. “He has always liked a challenge.”
“Whose fault is that?” Summer asks when I tuck her blonde hair behind her ears and wipe tears from her cheeks. But at least she’s smiling again. “You were always challenging him to a competition.”
We all know Chris is stubborn to a fault. We’re always feeding off each other’s energy. He once challenged me to ride a bike down this steep, grassy hill behind Mr. Perez’s house when I was ten and he was twelve. He said I wouldn’t be able to do it without falling off. We bet twenty bucks.
Turns out he was right. I crashed into a nettle bush and almost broke my arm. Mom was beside herself, and Dad whooped Chris’s ass that night. My brother hobbled past me the following morning, sporting a busted lip and a bruised cheek and said, “You still owe me that twenty bucks.”
I rub the center of my chest where a warmth spreads, and Summer sighs.
“I miss Mom,” she whispers. “I miss her smile and hugs. She always knew what to do.”
“She did,” I agree.
Summer smiles weakly and reaches for my hands again, fidgeting with the best friend bracelet around my wrist, which Mom showed me how to make one summer when I was eight.
I wanted to give it to my friend, Amber, but I never got the chance because we fell out over Logan, a skinny boy who told everyone who would listen that we’d kissed on the lips. It wasn’t true, but it didn’t take long for the word to spread.
Chris and Malice beat him up the following week and forced him to make a public apology in the cafeteria. I wear the bracelet now because it reminds me of my mom.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Ah. Gee. I should confide in her.
“If I tell you something, can you promise not to tell Chris?”
“You know you can trust me.”
Okay. Here it is. Let’s rip off the plaster.
“I was at the race the other night.”
“Okay?” she replies uncertainly, like she isn’t sure where this is going.
I cringe. “I was in Kane Ravenscourt’s car.”
Her eyes bug out. “What?! Why were you in his car?”
Oh shit… There’s no easy way to explain this. I worry she won’t understand. Or that she’ll get mad at me.
“Remember when we broke into the party at his house?”
“Did something happen that you didn’t tell me?”
“Well…” I clear my throat, my cheeks heating. “Kane sort of caught me stealing from his father.”
“No!? He did?” I didn’t think Summer’s eyes could grow any bigger, but I was wrong.
“Yep!” I pop the ‘P’. “He caught me in the act and things got… interesting.”
“Interesting how?” She’s invested now, leaning closer. I expected her to get upset and shout at me, to storm out and phone Chris. But her eyes sparkle with intrigue instead.
I trap my bottom lip between my teeth and wince. This isn’t something I want to admit to my sister. Maybe it’s best if I skirt around the subject? She won’t understand. “Things turned sexual.”
“You had SEX?” she all but shouts, and I slap my hand over her mouth, shushing her, even though Chris isn’t home.
“No!” I glance at the door, as if he’ll pop up like a jack-in-the-box, because that would be my luck. “We didn’t have sex.”
When I remove my hand, she lowers her voice conspiratorially. “So… What did you do?”
“We… Uhm.” Shit, why is this so hard? If it were some random guy from the Falls, I wouldn’t think twice to share this information, but it’s Kane Ravencourt. I don’t even like him.
“I won’t judge. Pinky promise.”
I look down at her pinky between us and hook mine in hers. “I jerked him off.”
She chokes on air. “A hand job? You touched his…his…”
“Dick. Yes, I touched it.”
“Was it… big?”
Okay, my lips twitch now, because she’s adorable when she’s curious. “Meh! It was okay.”
She hides her mouth behind her hand, laughter caught in her throat. “You’re such a liar. It was huge, wasn’t it?”
We press our mouths into tight lines for a beat, trying not to laugh, and then we lose it completely. We needed this. Just two sisters talking about boys and laughing together. No illness. No grief. No Falls vs. Heights. No rich vs. poor. None of the bullshit.
When we finally calm down, she smiles softly and studies my face. It feels good to confide in someone. She’s not judging me.
“I won’t tell Chris,” she says, hesitating as she smooths out the blanket. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
“No.” Another adamant shake of my head, and I smooth the blanket too, because why does it feel like I’m lying to myself?
“Let me rephrase that,” she says. “Do you want to see him again?”
I pinch the blanket, struggling to look her in the eye. “He’s from the Heights.”
“What if he was from the Falls?”
I finally look up, and she tilts her head slightly to the side.
“Would you want to see him then?”
A lump forms in my throat. Would I want to see him then?
It’s not that straightforward. For starters, we’re from different worlds—he’ll go on to become one of the most powerful men in the country, while I’ll be lucky to even graduate at this point.
Our futures couldn’t be more opposite. What’s more, a man like him is expected to marry an heiress.
I bite my cheek. “No, he’s not right for me. Besides, I don’t even like him.”
“You liked him enough to touch his dick.”
I press my lips together, the corners threatening to curve up anyway. “Low blow, sis.”
When I’m nervous, I talk with my hands a lot, and Summer watches them move between us now when I say, “I don’t know what came over me. It just sort of… happened.”
“Sure…Your hand fell into his pants.”
“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” I give her a light shove, and she giggles, her shoulders shaking.
I love the sound. I love seeing her happy and carefree. I love that she’s my sister.
“Come here.” I open my arms, and she curls up in my embrace. “Want to watch a movie with me?” I ask as we listen to the smatter of rain on the windows.
Nodding, she sits up and ties her hair up with the tie around her wrist while I slide my laptop closer and open the lid.
“Did you watch The Life List with Sofia Carson yet?” she asks.
I suppress an eyeroll. Summer loves her romcoms.
“The Life List, it is.”
Well, fuck.
When the credits roll on the screen, I wipe my cheeks dry. Summer is asleep beside me, locks of her blonde hair obscuring her cheek. It’s good that she’s sleeping because I will never admit to crying during a romcom. Not even if you point a gun at my head—
“You’re crazy, you know that, right?”
“All the best women are, Kane. You’ll soon learn that.”
Fucking Kane… invading my thoughts again.
I carefully slide the laptop aside and climb out of bed as Summer mutters something in her sleep.
“You’ll owe me two orgasms after this. And I will collect.”
Why can’t I get Kane Ravencourt out of my head?
I rub my face before my attention catches on my mobile phone on the nightstand, and I pick it up to check the time as I leave the room to get a drink. Chris is out tonight, and my dad is God knows where, probably drunk as usual.
After flipping the light in the kitchen, I open the fridge, and a weight of lead settles in the pit of my stomach when I see the empty shelves. There are a couple of bottles of condiments, a loaf of bread, and an off-brand cheese. That’s all.