Born April 13, 1993, died February 19, 2005
“It’s been a long time since I’ve visited. I’m sorry. Seems I have a lot to be sorry for these days.”
The flowers on top of her grave are pretty, her favorite shade of yellow.
“I know I kinda suck in the big brother department these days, but I was hoping I could talk to you for a while.”
Leaning back in the grass, I settle against her gravestone. Despite our five-year age gap, Sarah and I were the best of friends growing up. She wanted to be wherever I was.
I wanted that too. For a while. And then I got older, and suddenly, hanging out with my preteen sister sounded like the worst thing in the world. God, what I wouldn’t give to have another afternoon of her trying to play tag along with me.
There’s something profoundly devastating about losing a sibling. They’re the only people in the world who know what it’s like to grow up in your house. They have the same funny stories from family dinners. They hold the secret to Mom’s special Christmas cookies. You share memories and annoyances and eye rolls when your parents are being too much.
And if you’re a big brother, like I was, you get all the special stuff. You get to tease them and roast them, but you also get to keep them safe from monsters and be a shelter when it’s storming in the middle of the night and they’re afraid.
You get to be their protector. The person who hypes them up during their first prom, taking too many pictures and threatening their date. You get to be an uncle to what are, no doubt, the coolest kids in existence. You get to help keep family traditions alive and carry the grief of losing grandparents.
At least, I’d imagine that’s how it works.
If your little sister isn’t dead.
If it isn’t your fault.
I sigh, wiping at my eyes. God, rehashing these feelings isn’t why I came here today.
“Do you think it’s weird if I talk to you about boy problems? I know you’re not a kid anymore. Hell, you’re not anything anymore. But if you were alive, you’d be thirty-two, which meansyou’d definitely be old enough to listen to me ramble about boy problems.”
My lips curve into a smile despite myself. “You’d probably tease me about calling it ‘boy problems’ too, wouldn’t you?”
Sarah was the first person I came out as bisexual to. It wasn’t like I had a lot of options back then. She probably didn’t even really know what I was talking about, as young as she was. But I knew I couldn’t tell my mom, and even though Silverpine is a lot better and a lot more accepting of queer people now, it wasn’t always that way.
Or at least it didn’t feel like it back then. Who knows, though? I sure as shit wasn’t going to come out to anyone else back then. Hell, even now, I haven’t explicitly told anyone in my friend group my sexuality, though I’m sure Luca’sknew itmeans at the very least they’ve figured it out. It didn’t seem like it mattered.
And now, I’m just Arlo’s. So it matters even less.
Hell, I’m not even that.
“Fuck.” I’m getting off track. “I met someone. Someone I’m serious about. It’s the worst thing ever, though, I think.”
I stare up at the sky. “I love him. I didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as I love him. And get this,” I say, tilting my head toward her tombstone. “I told him, and he just… ran. Ran right the fuck away from me.”
Letting out a pained laugh, I shake my head. “I figure I’m not that big of a prize, but for him to justrun?Fuck, Sar, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
I lose track of time as I pour my heart out to my baby sister. I talk until my throat gets hoarse.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out when I’m finally done purging all my feelings. “I’m sorry I failed you. If I could go back and change it, I would. You have to know that.”
Pushing to my feet, I press a kiss to my fingertips and rest them on the top of her stone. “I love you, Sarah.”
The only answer I get is a breeze that I could almost swear smells like her vanilla body spray.
Chapter 7
Arlo
Withmyphonepressedto my ear and Maryanne talking to me about logistics, I look around my living room. My new living room. I really need to get to work, but this call can’t wait, and truly? I can’t stop staring at my new living room.
I couldn’t believe my luck when the landlord called me two days ago and told me that I was good to move in. It almost cleared out my bank account, but I managed it.
