It’s still awkward at family gatherings.
***
I pull my Jeep into the driveway, slowing right down when I notice the moving truck at the end, in front of Westley’s door. This must be his sister moving in. He’s mentioned her a few times.
The morning after Aurora was sick, I woke up on the couch to a knock at our door just before seven. A delivery driver handed over a mocha and fresh orange juice, and five minutes later, another guy delivered a package with a variety of medicines.
The amount of time I deliberated over a simple thank-you message was embarrassing. But I’m not used to people stepping in for me like that. I don’t give them a chance. The only people who have are Royal and Presley. Royal comes from a place of safety, duty. He’s been doing it for years, but it’s his job. From the day I met Presley, she gave me a sense of comfort and solidarity, having also been a child raised in a less-than-ideal environment. We’re there for each other as much as life allows, without expectation or demand. I know if I needed her, she’d be there in a heartbeat.
I step out of the car, debating if I should go over and introduce myself. I’ve never been the friendly neighbour type, but Aurora and I are doing things differently in Heart City. We’re here to settle, at least for a few years.
Aurora’s already at her new friend Ever’s house, so I can do my usual Saturday night shift at The Matchbox. Thankfully, she was over most of the symptoms of her throat infection within forty-eight hours.
I poke my head out of my open garage door before dawdling over to Westley’s. His front door is propped open, and I can hear voices coming from inside.
“Can I help you?”
I scream, a hand clutching my chest as I twirl around to the unfamiliar voice.
A younger guy with unruly dark hair and tattoos covering both arms stands in the back of the truck.
“I-I’m Maevyn. I live next door.”
He jumps down from the truck, his black boots hitting the concrete with ease.
“What’s going on?” Westley’s voice sounds from behind me, rushed and concerned.
I spin on my heel and watch as the question on his face turns into surprise. And, oh look, the thigh tattoo is on display again. How nice for me.
“Maevyn.” He smiles, coming over with a hand landing on my back. “I see you met my brother, Caspian.”
“Your brother?”
I turn back to Caspian, where he’s got both eyes on me. His arms are crossed over his broad chest, filling out the black T-shirt he wears.
I hold out my hand to him. “Nice to meet you, Caspian.”
“Likewise,” he says, accepting the handshake, eyes narrowed on his brother.
“Cas, have you seen the box marked—Oh, hello.”
A girl who looks to be in her early twenties appears from inside the house. Dark brown hair, the same as Westley’s, is gathered on top of her head. The cutest little baby bump under a grey tank top.
“My sister, Callie,” West says in my ear.
“Hi, Callie. I’m Maevyn.” I smile at her, fighting the buzzing in my veins at her assessment as her eyes shift between both of her brothers and me.
“Maevyn lives next door with her daughter, Aurora,” says West.
Callie steps out of the house, one hand on her belly. “Ohhh, this is the Maevyn who’s going to Vera and Crew’s wedding with you.”
“You been talking about me?” I murmur to West, who still stands behind me, a solid and warm palm resting against my lower back. I will not be addressing how it affects me.
“Liv filled me in,” Callie says. “She also told me you guys are faking it, so no need to maintain the charade on our account.” She raises her eyebrows as she looks pointedly down to where West’s arm is behind me.
He clears his throat and shoves the offending hand in his pocket.
“Anyway, I just came over to say hello,” I say, then turn to West. “Also, I got the email with our assignments for the camp. We’re on the ropes course and s’mores duty.” Hip-fucking-hooray. I’m not scared of a lot of things, but heights are… not my favourite.
