Chapter One #2
Shae rolled her eyes, darting them back to her sister, but in-side her stomach had dropped. Em had always been beautiful, but oh my God. Was she always this gorgeous? She had changed a lot in the years since Shae had last seen her. She was softer in all the right places.
“Hey.” Em’s voice was faint. She took a step toward Shae, then stalled.
Like a kid with a crush on the playground, she wanted to both hug Em and push her at the same time. Shae barreled past her, not bothering to look at her. So many feelings were flooding in, and she needed to get out of there.
“Hey,” she said as she passed, a gnawing in her chest, an aching to say more that she ignored.
“Need any help?” Em called as Shae swept past her and up the stairs. Her suitcase thudded behind her on each step, leaving the answer to that question and many more unanswered.
Shae didn’t have the energy to unpack her suitcase or the mess of emotions crawling under her skin.
This had been one of the longest days she’d had in a while, and she needed calm, silence…
anything resembling peace. She sniffed at her armpits, scrunching up her nose. Ugh, and a shower! She needed a shower.
She dragged her suitcase to the closet, popped it open, and dug around for something cozy.
Pulling out her favorite black over-sized sweats and a cropped band tee, she peeled off her travel clothes as she padded toward her en-suite.
She tugged the tie from her hair, a flicker of a thought crossing her mind.
Maybe she’d pack a bag and drive out to Boston to stay at her parents’ house after all.
At least it was quiet there, predictable.
She stood under the shower, letting the water fall over her until it ran cool, along with her anger.
When she got out, she didn’t pack for Boston, the likely better option.
She crawled into bed and wrapped herself in the comforter she’d slept under for most of her youth.
She was exhausted, but she stared up at the ceiling anyway, waiting for sleep to find her.
Then, curled up, exhaling, finally beginning to unclench her muscles.
That is, until the music downstairs started up again, startling her out of her almost peaceful moment and sending vibrations through the floor beneath her mattress. She could pinpoint every voice below her by tone and the cadence in their speech.
Each outburst of laughter made her somewhat envious and curious as to what could possibly be so funny at this point. A shriek that was uniquely Claire’s rang out, and a thud that sounded suspiciously like someone jumping or perhaps falling off a piece of furniture, followed by loud cackling.
Lennon’s smug, “It’s just the crew,” from earlier sent a spike of anger rolling through her.
Shae sat up with a groan, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes.
There was no chance in hell she was sleeping through that.
She threw off the covers, padding barefoot down the hallway, and ducked into the game room.
The mini fridge hummed in the corner. She yanked it open and grabbed a cold beer, cracking it with a soft hiss.
“Welcome home, Shae,” she muttered to herself. “Four years, four years I’ve been gone, and they act like it’s been four days.”
She opened the door to the second-floor balcony and settled down in her usual spot on the ground by the railing, tucking her feet in the space under the bars, letting them dangle into the open night air.
She strained to hear the soft crash of waves below that had soothed her so many times in the past, but everything was too loud, her thoughts were clamoring, her head spinning.
She wrestled with finding peace in this moment and wanting to strangle the partygoers below, trying hard to avoid them.
She willed herself to focus on the ocean or where she knew it to be.
All she could see was an endless stretch of black swallowing the horizon. She had forgotten how dark it got out here at night.
She leaned back, staring up at the moon, bright and full, the stars blinking softly around it. The sight of it brought an old ache pressing at her ribs, a feeling she’d nearly forgotten. She was so lost in it, she barely registered the door opening behind her.
“I thought that was you up here,” Em said gently.
Shae froze at the sound of her voice.
“Can I sit with you?”
Shae’s pulse picked up speed, but she said nothing.
“I’m gonna sit with you.”
Shae lifted herself to sitting, acutely aware of Em’s presence.
Em’s quiet footsteps came from behind her, followed by the soft thud of a bottle against the wood, and the scent that always gave her away, sweet and nostalgic, like sunscreen and amber and a memory Shae didn’t want to revisit.
Em sat beside her from a careful distance.
“How was Europe?” Em asked, testing the silence as if it might break beneath her.
Shae took a sip of her drink before answering.
“Good.”
“Did you see everything you wanted to see? Take any price-less pics?”
Shae shrugged.
Sitting that close to Em again after so many years was un-earthing so much of what Shae had spent years trying to bury. Em was already beginning to draw her in, making her fingers tingle with the ridiculous urge to touch her, but she refused to give in to it.
“So… we graduated. What’s next for you?”
Shae stared straight ahead, her eyes still seeking the water. “Not sure.”
Shae didn’t get it. Why was Em here on this balcony with her instead of downstairs, where the party was? Where she could joke around and gossip or do whatever it was that she usually did.
“I’m not sure either,” Em said. “My parents want me to come stay with them in Colorado for a while. Not sure if Len told you, but they moved there a couple years ago. They’re doing much better now. They’re happier.”
Em scrutinized Shae’s face, awaiting a response.
“I don’t know, though,” she continued. “I started training last week with a volunteer program in town for the summer. So I’ll see how that goes.” Em smiled faintly, rubbing her thumb along the edge of her bottle. “I kind of wouldn’t mind doing some traveling myself, though.”
Shae turned to face her. Em was close enough to see her features clearly in the dim of the porchlight, and yet difficult to read. A pressure rose in Shae’s chest, making her want to snap. To make Em leave. To do anything but sit there close to her.
“Why are you being nice to me?” Her voice was low and stripped of pretense.
Em’s eyes narrowed, “What?”
“Did my sister ask you to?” Shae’s voice was sharper now, her eyes locked onto Em’s. “Is this some sort of peace mission Len-non cooked up?”
The truth was, the last time Shae saw Em, their interaction had ended with a passion-filled “I hate you” coming from Em. It was a distinct moment that had simmered in Shae’s memory. Shae didn’t blame her for it, though, not anymore. She hated who she’d become in the aftermath of Em, too.
She glared at Em, searching for the crack in her story. But Em didn’t speak. She sat there, frozen, like she was holding something in.
Em sucked in her bottom lip, her shoulders lifting slightly, but still no answer. Shae caught her eyes, a mixture of confusion and what? Em’s gaze dipped briefly to Shae’s mouth, and Shae caught it, her insides tying in knots with a feeling she’d hoped she’d moved past.
“I thought so,” Shae said, turning back toward the ocean.
She lifted the bottle to her lips, draining the last of it, then set it down beside her and stood, brushing her hands on her thighs, not sparing Em another glance.
Behind her, she heard a whisper, a soft, “Goodnight,” before the door clicked closed, leaving behind the wind and waves and all the silence Em didn’t fill.