Chapter Five
Keith stares down at me for the longest time as if he's not quite understanding why I'm so freaked out. But to be fair, it isn't really my fault that I'm so caught off guard. The trip was supposed to be just Allison, Becca, and I. He wasn't supposed to be anywhere near it.
Maybe he's just coming to say goodbye to Becca. Maybe he's just too stupid to realize that this trip is supposed to be a surprise for my sister.
That's just mean, though. Just because I'm still slightly irked at him for reasons I still have yet to understand doesn't justify my calling him names such as "stupid." But still, there's no way in hell Allison would dare invite him along. She must know what went on between the two of us. There's no doubt in my mind that he's told her.
Although maybe she invited him along just too piss me off. That's just the type of girl she is-it's one of the many reasons why she's been able to stay such good friends with my sister. The two clash and mold in an almost perfect way. Sometimes I find myself imagining that they might be best friends until the day they die; and maybe even after.
"Um..." I murmur, sucking in my lips. "I thought it was just supposed to be us girls going."
He raises a dark brow at me, before opening his lips. They're heavily chapped from the cold, with a split running right down the middle of the bottom one. It's hard for me to imagine that just a little over a week ago, they were moving against mine, soft as a baby's bottom.
I blink, realizing that I'd been staring, before flickering my gaze back up to his russet colored eyes as he begins to speak. "Didn't Allison tell you? She's been sucked into some family thing, so she can't go with. She invited me along, instead."
"She what?!" I find myself shrieking in a very unattractive way. Normally I would've managed to keep my voice at a proper level, but I can't help it. This is so horrible. Being trapped in a small car-and a hotel room-for nearly an entire day with my sister and her best guy friend-who also just happens to be the boy I made out with-sounds like my own personal kind of hell.
"Is that a problem?" he asks. His voice is innocent enough, but I manage to detect just the barest hints of a challenge in it. As if he's daring me to tell him there is.
"No," I say instead, with a shake of my head, hoping that I come off more composed than I feel. "Of course it's not a problem. I was just caught off guard is all." I motion for him to come in out of the cold.
"Oh!" I blink as something else occurs to me, pushing all thoughts of how awkward this will be out of my head. "Shoot! I wasn't expecting Allison for at least another hour so we aren't quite ready yet! Wait in the kitchen while I finish! It should just be a minute or two! And whatever you do, don't let Becca know you're here! This is supposed to be a surprise!"
I spin on my heel and begin to sprint for the stairs, no doubt that Keith will do as I say. Having known me ever since Kindergarten, he probably knows that everything I've just said isn't a suggestion. It's a command. I don't ask, I tell. Always have, always will.
I almost trip over Sketch while I sprint up the stairs. Becca's stupid black cat weaves expertly between my feet, probably heading off to his litter box. Technically, he belongs to all of us and we all do our part in taking care of him, but he's taken a special liking to my sister. It's always her lap he hops onto, always when she's using the restroom that he feels the need to be in there as well. He'd probably even sleep in her bed if it weren't for the fact that he's not allowed to take a single step inside her room.
As promised, it doesn't take long for me to finish packing. For the most part, everything has already been put away (I did it all while Becca was away at work) so it's really just a double checking to make sure I have everything. Once I'm sure we're all good, I lug the three suitcases onto the floor and begin dragging them to the door.
I pause as I near the threshold. The fear of this trip that had briefly left me suddenly returns, gripping tight onto my stomach. Why the hell did Allison have to be such a bitch? Is this supposed to do anything to help me? Most definitely not, I'm sure.
And how horrible for her to do to him, as well. Send him on another quest for the woman he loves, knowing that she'll just end up in the arms of another man. Isn't that just pouring a bit too much salt on a still-open wound?
I shake my head, pushing any doubt from my mind. I'm being stupid. The only reason why I'm freaking out about this is because he just happens to be my sister's best guy friend. Other than that, he's no more special than any of the other boys I've hooked up with. So there's no reason for me to feel as shitty as I do.
That's all bullshit, I know. But it's what I have to tell myself to be able to force myself to grab the handle, turn it, and open the door.
"Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. It seemed to me that I stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while I could not enter..."
The beginning lines to Alfred Hitchock's film Rebecca floats up to me. It's one of Becca's favorite movies to watch when she needs something to listen to without ever actually having to pay attention to it. It also happens to be the movie where her namesake came from.
My mom has always had a sort of soft spot for fictional characters whom she believed died before their time. So when she started having children, she came up with the totally original idea to give them the names of those "deceased." Beth from Little Women. Emil and Marie from Oh Pioneers! Rebecca from Rebecca. And Lenny from Of Mice and Men.
"Here," I say, bringing the luggage into the kitchen and dropping them as silently as I could in front of Keith. "Bring these out to the car. Becca and I will be out in a few minutes."
My sister is laying on the couch, her feet propped up on the back with towels wrapped around them as she gives the television a half-assed stare. Lenny is no where to be found, obviously having retreated to his room after he found out he was no longer needed.
"Hey," I say, slightly pleased to see that she's no longer in her work clothes, although that's not much of a surprise. She despises her work, and goes so far as to have a pair of pajamas set out on the couch everyday so that she can change as quickly as possible and forget that the dreaded place exists. "Get up. We need to run a quick errand."
Becca groans and shakes her head. "I just got back from a nine hour shift, Marie," she whines. "Can't you get Lenny to take you?"
"No, it has to be you," I argue, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Mom insists that we go. Now. You don't wanna make her mad, do you?"
Becca lifts here gaze to meet mine, before her eyes flicker just barely past my shoulder. Even if the threat of our mother getting pissed at us weren't enough to scare her into doing what I asked, I would've won, anyway. We have this bet going that when we're having an argument, whoever breaks eye contact first is the one who loses. Thanks to her "introverted ways", I've won everytime we played. Is it unfair of me to continue to play this game? Definitely. But it cuts our arguments down by nearly 1000% most of the time so it's worth it.
"Alright, Becca," I sigh, allowing a small smile to grace my features. "I win. Now get up."
"How quick of an errand will this be?" she shoots as she stiffly pushes herself into a sitting position. "I only have three more days to finish four books."
"Don't worry," I roll my eyes, suddenly thankful that I remembered to pack her pile of unread books. I can't even imagine the fit she would've thrown if she found out that she would be gone for a week without any type of reading material.
Crap, though. I totally forgot her iPad. Whipping out my phone, I begin to text Lenny, hoping that he's staring at his own phone like usual as I say; "You'll have plenty of time to finish your books."
"You'd better hope," Becca groans, slowly standing up and shaking off the towels. She tosses them onto the arm of the couch where her feet had just been, obviously thinking she'll be back soon so she can take care of them then. God, I hope Lenny finds them before one of our parents get home. They'll have a hay day if they find them.
Becca hangs onto my shoulder and walks ever so slightly on her tiptoes as we make our way to the front door. She's been working a lot of eight or nine hour shifts the past few months, causing her heels-which is where she puts all her weight-to be sore as fuck.
Lenny sprints past us, her iPad in hand right as we reach the entrance. If Becca notices that he's carrying one of her most prized possessions, she doesn't mention it. Instead, she merely raises her eyebrow as he leaves the house, clearly shocked at the fact that he would dare go outside, before pulling on her black ankle boots. Aside from her work shoes, they're the only pair of close-toed shoes she owns. My twin has been known for going into denial everytime winter comes around.
"Um, Marie?" she says once we've exited the house and she catches sight of Keith in his large black car-with our younger brother handing her iPad to him-sitting in the driveway. "What the hell is going on?"
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