Page 125 of Not In The Contract

She fell back onto her pillows with a sigh, her eyes never leaving mine. “Two birds, huh?”

I gave a small nod and looked away. There was no such thing as prolonged eye contact in this. Not if I had any intention of making it out of her room in one piece.

“I’ll still be shadowing you at work, but that’s it,” I said, my trembling fingers tracing patterns on her duvet. “I figured that would be the best way forward, without interfering in your… family dynamics.”

“If you just give me some more time, I’ll figure it out.” She sounded defeated already. Didn’t make for a very convincing rebuttal.

“What’s there to figure out? She’s your sister. She’s important to you, and I get that.”

This time Alex didn’t change her mind. She took my hand in hers, clasping it tightly. Desperately?

“You’re important to me,” she said. “Both of those things can be true. Why can’t you just-”

“I don’t want to be in the way, Alex.” I took back my hand, instantly missing her warmth. “If I stick around here it’ll end up making things more complicated.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

It was the finality of her tone that surprised me. As though she held a deep knowing that I’d never be able to fathom. Despite this being my life and my work.

I rose from her bed, dragging the last of my dignity with me as I smiled down at her. “I’ll be out by tomorrow. Good night, Alex.”

If she said anything else, I didn’t hear it. Couldn’t hear it, not over the choked up sob throbbing in my ears as I rushed out of her bedroom.

42. Bubbling Under and Over

Alex

“Don’tlookatmelike that. The guest of honor is supposed to be late.” Jamie didn’t take her eyes off her reflection in the mirror.

She was on her umpteenth outfit change of the night, and I was on my last nerve.

I groaned, turning over onto my back as I spread-eagled across my bed. “Fashionably late, Jamie. That qualifier creates a specific pocket of time for you to work with.”

“Well, it’s my birthday party, so thisqualifiesme to do whatever the fuck I want,” she snarked, and I heard her peel off the ripped skinny jeans she’d just wrestled herself into.

“What’s your excuse every other day?” I muttered, my fingers absently fiddling with the corner of my pillow.

No, not mine. Not really. It was the side of the bed that belonged to Devon. Somewhere, deep inside me, I felt the faintest pang of missing someone.

Jamie stopped what she was doing and straightened, a pair of black leather pants clutched in her hands.

“Oh, right, I’m always getting everything I want,” she deadpanned. “Aging out of the foster system, surfing on the couches of strangers because I couldn’t afford my own place… You know, all the fun stuff.”

“Jesus.” I sat up, head in my hands. “Are we ever going to have a conversation where we don’t end up circling the same fucking drain?”

Frustration was getting the better of me. We were late, I was hungry, and the one person who’d undoubtedly make me feel better about all of it wasn’t here.

“I don’t know, Al. You tell me,” Jamie’s voice came out a little tight and breathless. Such was the battle of the leather pants. “I don’t know what it’s like to have life work out the way I want, or to have money dripping from my pores. I’m just guessing, but I think that might have something to do with forgetting the drain exists.”

I rounded on her, flipping over on the bed so I was on my knees. “You know what? Screw you.”

She shrunk under my unmoving glare, the stubborn zipper on her pants becoming nothing but background. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you heard me…” All those talks with my friends and most recently, Devon’s words, swirled in my head. “Screw you and your tired little woe-is-me act you’re always leveraging to get your way. You’re my sister and I love you, but I’m done. With all of it.”

Jamie’s nostrils flared with her rising temper. It sucked the air out of the room and replaced it with bone-chilling tension. “So now it’s an act?” Her tone was painfully constrained. I knew what was coming, and I was ready for it.

“Not back then, maybe not. But now? Still? What else could it be, Jamie?” My shoulders drooped with the relief of finally saying the thing that needed to be said. “You’re not the only kid to get fucked over by the system, and you’re certainly not the last time it’ll happen. So many people come out of it without living the rest of their lives feeling sorry for themsel-”