15. Luke
CHAPTER 15
Luke
The two of us sit on opposite ends of a very long, very expensive-looking couch; a luxury that we never had in my childhood home in Kinsdale Springs. When we moved in there from Marble Crest after Mom died, Dad got us a two-seater from Craigslist. Becca was a baby by then, and with him being gone a lot, it was mostly just me using it. When Dad started looking for happiness at the bottom of liquor bottles, he got himself a rocking chair for the living room. Who knows? Maybe alcohol hits better when you’re swaying back and forth at eleven at night in the dark.
I wonder if the girl swirling her wine around in her glass here with me knows that her stepdad was an alcoholic. I can’t imagine him putting that on the bio of whatever online dating profile he created.
“This wine tastes like shit.” Gigi’s voice echoes in the living room of the farmhouse.
“Boxed wine not up to your standard, princess?”
“Whatever,” she says, rolling her eyes that are glued to her screen. “Anyway, I found a good list of questions online.” Gigi closes the distance between us, scooting over and handing me her phone. “I’ll go first. Easy. Midnight owl or early riser?”
“Midnight owl,” I answer without hesitation. “I like to sleep in.” My finger accidentally clicks on the arrow at the bottom, and I feel my lips twitching into a smile when I see Gigi put ‘questions for breaking the ice with someone who’s quiet’ into the search bar. Ever since Kai and Zoey became official and our group of friends merged into one, I’ve been realizing more and more that I might have misjudged this girl when we first met. Her niceness is actually not a facade; she’s actually pretty cool. “I got one. Would you rather be able to shapeshift or teleport?”
“Hmmm.” She taps her chin with her finger like she’s taking this seriously. She probably fucking is. “Teleport. Tickets to New York are expensive as hell.”
“How much do they go for?” I ask.
“Around four hundred bucks during the high season. I had to cut my budget for presents way down when I went last Christmas.”
“Do the ticket prices change?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
Gigi looks at me with an amused look, her head slightly tilted. “Of course?”
My face is all heat right now. “I…I’ve never been on a plane before,” I admit in a low voice. I’ve never even crossed state lines.
I’m mentally getting ready for Gigi to make fun of me, but she says nothing. She doesn’t even fucking flinch to what I said. Gigi just grabs the phone from me and smiles, saving me from further embarrassment. “My turn. Milk first or cereal first?”
“Neither,” I say, grinning. “I don’t like milk. It tastes like soaked cardboard.” When she just shakes her head, I grab the phone from her and try to pick a more interesting question. The alcohol must already be working, because she’s laughing so hard when the one I’m asking isn’t even all that funny. “The longest time you’ve vegged out on a couch watching TV?”
“Latchkey kid here,” she says, raising her hand like she’s in school. “The TV was basically my nanny. I spent most of my evenings and weekends glued to the screen.”
Not the New York life I’ve pictured her having . “Was it lonely? Being an only child?”
She nods. “That’s why I was so happy when Mom said she was going to marry your dad. I knew you were going to leave for college when they announced their engagement, but I always wanted to have a little sister. Becca doesn’t disappoint. She’s the best.”
We continue on with our stupid interview, but my mind can’t shake what Gigi said. How she feels about Becca. I’ve never seen Gigi as my sister, but the fact that she was there for mine makes me feel…happy? Thankful? The wine must be getting to me as well.
I don’t know when it started, but the stakes of the questioning got higher. We moved on from harmless ones to shit like when was the first time you fell in love and what is your biggest life goal. The booze is up a notch as well, considering the fact we’re on our second shot of vodka.
“You ready?” she asks, her phone in her hand. “Do you believe in heaven?” Her face pales when she realizes what she just asked me. “So…sorry, Luke. I’ll look for another one.”
“It’s fine,” I answer with a smile to reassure her. “I’d like to think that there’s a Heaven somewhere. If Heaven looks anything like Earth, Marble Crest must be filled with Palmers.” Maybe I’m drunker than fuck right now, or maybe it’s the way she doesn’t look at me with pity, but the thought of all of my dead family members doesn’t hurt me tonight. “What about you?” I ask.
“If there is one…” she slurs her words just like I’m slurring mine. “I think Andrew is laughing his head off looking at us right now. Being friends.” She’s not wrong. He probably would.
I don’t answer that, but I do groan when I see her pouring us another glass of wine for us. “Gi, fuck. You’re drinking me under the table,” I say, rubbing my eyes. By now, both of us are slouched on the floor like rugs, using the couch as a backrest.
“You’re a late bloomer, Luke Palmer.” She shrugs, bringing her glass closer to her lips as she hands me mine.
“You’re using my confession against me.” I can’t help the grin that breaks out on my face. Before we started drinking vodka out of coffee mugs, I told her the first time I properly started drinking for fun was when I was a college freshman. When Kai took me to my first house party, I made a mental note to stop the moment I graduated, swearing to myself that I’d never binge drink like my dad after I stepped into the real adult world.
“I am not!” Gigi squeals. “It’s just what it is, Luke. Nobody gets a trophy for having a high alcohol tolerance, anyway.” Tell that to my dad . “I have to pee.”
Gigi stands up, only to wobble back down again. She falls on me, both of our bodies creating a plus sign with her head facing down. Her eyes widen in horror when she sees that my hoodie is all purple, courtesy of my wine that just spilled. Her eyes immediately scan the room, probably to look for a tissue.
“Let’s call it a night, yeah? I think you’ve had enough.”
“Shit, I’m really sorry, Luke.”
Gigi looks like she’s in panic mode as she frantically tries to rub the stain with the sleeve of her shirt. I grab her hand in mine so that she’d stop. “Gi, all good. Promise,” I say. “Just go pee and get yourself ready for bed. I’ll clean up.”
The girl doesn’t move, though. She’s still sitting on my lap with her palms on my chest and her dark hair all wild. My fingers, having a mind of their own, tuck the loose strands of her hair behind her ear. Both of our bodies stiffen after that. Her gray eyes snap up to meet mine, and I’m not sure what they’re trying to fucking tell me. I swallow the lump in my throat when I realize how close we are at this second. One small move forward and our noses would be touching.
The questions…the way Gigi’s body was on me…the way she made me laugh…I shouldn’t be having these feelings for her. For a lot of fucking reasons . How did she go from being someone I only meet two days a year at most to a girl who I’m going to spend the whole week with? This would be the perfect setup for a hookup, except she’s off-limits. The most off-limits there can be.