Page 152 of Wild Like Us

I smile big as I shake her hand into a fist-bump, then it devolves in a much longer sequence. A secret greeting formed one muggy summer at Camp Calloway. Two hip-bumps, we throw our arms in the air, rattling them to the sky, then spin in two circles. Crouching low, we’re face to face again and flutter fingertips to fingertips. Then I hook her elbow with mine and we skip ‘round, howling at the sky.

And we don’t pull apart.

Instead, we draw nearer, our foreheads pressed together in a huddle. My arms around her shoulders, her arms around mine. This close, she’s all I see.

I’m all she sees.

Private. At least for us. We’re fucking aware other people are watching. They’re always watching, but in this moment, in our huddles, it’s just me and my sister.

Winona whispers with a smile, “I wish you would’ve been on the plane ride here—Greer wasrollingat my farts.”

I laugh, smiling so much my face hurts, realizing just how much I missed her.

“They smelledhorrible.I tried to hold them in.”

“You did?” I whisper skeptically.

“I did,” she grins. “My stomach hurt when we landed I tried so hard. I didn’t want to asphyxiate every passenger, they werethatbad, Sulli.” We laugh together. “This one prick behind us thought Greer was the farter. It got so bad that the guy told Greer to stop passing gas, and I told him,sir, I’ve been farting, not him.The guy looked like he saw a ghost. He said nothing, just shrunk backwards in his seat.”

We laugh again, and as the sound fades, her brown, hazel-flecked eyes rest softly on my green. It’s my turn to share in our safe, private huddle.

I could bring up something funny. Like how my boob itches from at least three ant bites. But that’s not really what I need to share. What Iwantto share.

Because I want to tell her the truth about what I did. I’m just scared of my sister’s reaction.

Foreheads still pressed together, I drop my gaze. “After a practice climb on this route called The Bitterroot Buttress, Akara, Banks, and I were hiking back to our camp…and two cougars stalked us.”

Winona holds her breath. I’m not looking, but I feel air vacuum between us.

“I killed a cougar, Nona.” Pressure mounts on my chest like the animal is back on my body. “I used the gun Dad gave me, and I killed her.” I finally raise my eyes to hers.

Tears are streaming down her soft cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” My voice breaks.

“I’m crying because you’re crying.” Her chin quakes. My face is wet.

I try to laugh but it cracks. “I’m sorry, Nona.” I’m so afraid she’s going to look at me differently, but her wet lashes and glassy eyes stay on me with condolences and love.

“I don’t think I could’ve done it, Sulli.” She cries with me. “I would’ve let the cougar kill me.”

“Stop.”

“No, I would’ve. And it’s good. It’s good that you were the one there…” We’re both nodding to each other, foreheads together, sucking in snotty tears. “It’s good,” Winona breathes, “because Mom and Dad can’t lose either of us. And I can’t lose you, not to an animal, not to a mountain—I just can’t.” We shift our heads and come together in the tightest hug, tears soaking each other’s shoulders.

We stay like that for a few more minutes. And she asks if I got hurt. I tell her about everyone’s wounds, but that we’re all okay.

She’s not disappointed in me for taking an animal’s life. She’s just happy that I’m alive. Weight eases off my chest.

When we separate, we dry our faces with our shirts, and she rests her head on my shoulder for a beat. For once, I feel like the older sister. And I realize it’s her fear of losing me that causes this change.

* * *

While Akara dotsall the Is and crosses the Ts, all the paperwork involved in renting an RV, Winona and I loiter around the office’s vending machines. We unscrew bottles of Ziff and chat about her suspension.

I’ve done a decent job hiding the love triangle because she hasn’t said a thing or even done a double-take.

Score for Sulli!I could pump my fist in the air.