my bottom lip in worry. If even Parker doesn't believe we can make things right... can we even get through this?
That night, Parker holds me while I cry until my tears dry up. I've never cried this much in my life, not even when Mom and Mark died. Never. Kade did this to me. He hurt me. He made me into a fucking mess crying for the boy he used to be and the monster he turned into.
I wait for his call even after my stepbrother falls asleep. I stare at my phone, willing it to ring, hoping Kade will reach out.
And the call never comes.
5 years ago
“Are we going or what, little sis?” Parker asks impatiently, smacking me on the butt.
I glare at him to make him stop, which means I nearly gouge my left eye out with the mascara wand I’m holding in my hand. The incident results with a black smudge over the left side of my face, and I gasp. “Parker!” I say with a raised voice. “Look what you’ve done. Now I have to start over!”
Parker snickers, and I shoot him a look but end up convulsing in giggles right along with him. I look like a tribal warrior with war paint on.
“I’ll leave you to your girl stuff,” Parker finally resigns and gets up from behind me, heading for the door. “I’ll be downstairs, find me when you’re ready.”
“Yes dear,” I say mockingly and stick my tongue out at him, but he just laughs and leaves me to the disaster that is my makeup look. I’m smiling as I reach for a cotton pad and makeup remover, spilling the liquid on the pad and smudging my makeup even further as I try to remove it. Parker and I are going to the movies, and once more, I’m thankful he decided—unlike Kade—to stay close to home when he went to college. While Kade finished early, Parker’s two years behind. He never was very good at traditional education. I have no idea what I’d do without his daily visits.
I finally manage to take all of my makeup off, and I toss the black-streaked pad into the trash. I sigh and try once again to make myself look presentable. Mascara first, and this time, I don’t fail so badly. But my eyelashes are a little clumpy, and I’m not happy when I investigate in the mirror. Staring back at me is a willowy, dark-haired, too tall girl, with awkwardly long limbs. But I have a pretty face, and I’m told that at every corner, so I’ve started to believe it myself. And I guess I am pretty, if you have a thing for too-big eyes, too-full lips, and a too-small nose. I smirk at myself but end up hopefully staring at my chest.
I’m flat as a board. Mom says they’ll grow eventually. I’ll be a late bloomer, just like her. But that isn’t much consolation when you’re sixteen freaking years old and starting to gain an interest in the opposite sex. I blush at the word. Sex. For some reason, the first picture, the first association to it, is still Kade.
Ever since Mom caught us in the treehouse, I've done everything and anything in my power to get my stepbrother out of my head. But I'm fighting a losing battle. How can you forget someone when you can't even bring yourself to stop thinking about them for five whole minutes? I shake my head to get rid of the thoughts, scrambling in my drawer to find some lipstick I've stolen from Mom.
I layer some on my lips, and finally, I’m satisfied with my appearance. I get up and reach for my favorite fragrance—a gift from my stepfather. It’s made in Grasse in France, custom to my liking, and it’s probably my favorite thing I own. I spray it on myself and inhale the well-known, enticing scent. I imagine Kade kissing me on the spot where I just sprayed it. Imagine a world where we could be together, where that would be acceptable. And before I know it, I'm saying his name softly.
“Kade…”
I’m so afraid someone will hear me I clamp a hand over my mouth, looking around in panic. But there’s no one here—only I know about my dirty, forbidden crush. And it better stay that way. Finally, I grab my purse and head for the door. Parker is waiting for me.
But he is nowhere to be found.
I’ve been to the kitchen, living room, and the lounge,