Page 10 of Little Liar
“Mom and Dad will smell it on you when we get home. I’m not sticking up for you again when they corner you in the kitchen.”
I shrug and blow a cloud of smoke above my head, leaning against a tree stump while watching her stretch. She’s bending over again, touching her toes, and I lift my eyes to the sky before I get caught looking down her top.
This is new.
A little fucked up too.
But over the last few months, I can’t stop looking at Olivia and noticing that not only is she as beautiful as she always has been, but she’s also really, really attractive. Not in a way a brother should be noticing or thinking about.
I get this feeling inside me when she giggles or when she smiles at me—like a flock of butterflies are going wild. It’s addictive. To be happy and excited. I try to be with her at all times to maintain the feeling and try to argue with the voices in my head that it’s all kinds of fucked up to have a crush on someone you call a sibling and were raised with.
Dad would hang me—then shoot me to make sure I’m dead.
I reckon I’d still find a way to be around Olivia. The ghost in her closet or the monster under her bed she befriends and cuddles to sleep.
I frown at my own ridiculous and immature thoughts while she types on her phone.
The sun is starting to rise. There’s a soft glow around us, peeking through the tree canopy from above. Through the woods, we can see the sun growing brighter in the distance. It’s the same view, but we always end up trapped by it.
But this time it seems I’m the only one paying attention because Olivia comes up beside me, takes my cigarette, then tosses it into the lake.
Her narrowing eyes make me smirk.
Do you want to go into the lake next?I sign.Because I’m seconds from tossing you in too.
Crossing her arms, she pops out her hip. “You wouldn’t.”
She squeals as I grab her, lifting her off her feet and throwing her over my shoulder while walking towards the edge of the lake. She’s kicking her bare legs, screaming my name, and slapping my shoulders. Standing an inch from the water, I silently laugh, sliding her down my front and pretending to swing her in, causing her to tighten her arm around my neck.
I pause when she wraps her legs around my waist and brackets her thighs.
“Please don’t,” she pleads. “I’m begging you.”
Fuck.
Too close.
I drop her like she’s burned me, and she catches herself before she topples in. She slaps my chest. “You asshole!”
I have the sudden urge to grab her face and kiss her.
It’s abrupt and absurd and new. I’ve kissed Olivia a million times, but not the way I want to right now. It’s wrong in so many ways.
I’m attracted to my sister. I must be, right? There’s no way in hell I can’t be attracted to her—to me, she’s a masterpiece.
Realization hits me like a fucking plane crash and makes me blink a few times and look away. My heart beats wildly in my chest at my bad luck. I always knew I was fucked up, but this? This takes the fucking cake. Dad wants me to go back to therapy and get myself medicated. Maybe I should—not for my twisted thoughts, but for the feelings I shouldn’t have for Olivia.
Is there medication that stops you from wanting to kiss your sister?
Before, it was all about protecting her—I always felt an attachment, but not like this. I want to kiss her the way boyfriends and girlfriends do.
My breathing changes, and I’m so damn confused by the way I feel—she’s still too close to me, and I flex my fingers, needing to wrap them in her top and tug her to me, to smash my mouth down on hers, but I step back instead and swallow hard.
She goes back to typing on her phone while I light another cigarette, refusing to look at her. She’s unaffected and none the wiser that her brother is fighting an inner war not to ruin everything by acting on impulse. We’re sixteen and seventeen now, but we’re still too young for me to be thinking the way I do.
Now I’m angry. Because I have a crush on someone I can never have. I want to explode at the world, or maybe pick a fight with my father and see if he’s all talk about beating my ass when he threatens me.
Coming to stand by my side, she nudges me with her shoulder and tips her chin to the sunrise. “I know you have a heart of stone, but you gotta admit that it’s pretty.”
Table of Contents
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- Page 10 (reading here)
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