Page 44 of What’s Left of Us

Still, I was sure he didn’t look like this when he drank. Nat’s pupils were so big they almost blotted out her brown irises completely. She grinned at me, looking eerily like a character from The Purge.

“Are you okay?”

I wasn’t sure what I’d do if she needed help. I couldn’t exactly go get Mom or Dad. And even though I now had my license, it wasn’t like I could take the car without them realizing. I also couldn’t go to the ER without the bill ending up in their mailbox.

“I am so good,” Nat informed me. “The best ever.”

“Are you drunk?” I asked, even though she obviously was.

“Only a little.” Nat wiggled out of my hold and returned to her dresser. She was moving all the shirts from the second drawer to the first. “But not too much, I promise.”

“Nat, go to bed.” I grabbed her shoulders again, expecting her to fight me, but she didn’t. She stumbled over her strewn clothes and flopped onto her mattress. I rolled her over and started undressing her. As it was, she was wearing a cute black dress that she kept hidden in the back of her closet.

“I’ve had a lot of sex,” she declared as I took off her sandals. I laid her shoes at the foot of her bed and roughly tugged her dress off her shoulders. “With Michael, obviously. And that was fine. But I had it with someone else tonight.”

“You did?” I swallowed. I was so far out of my element I couldn’t think of anything more to say. Nat had been dating Michael for a couple years now, and while I thought their age gap was weird, I never said anything, not since that first time.

“Michael dumped me.” Nat flopped her arms out, and one struck the wall. She snorted with laughter, and I uselessly looked over my shoulder at the closed door. I couldn’t hear anything from Mom and Dad’s room, but that didn’t mean they weren’t hearing us.

“I’m sorry, Nat.”

“It was only a few days ago,” she continued. “I didn’t think he’d be at the party tonight, but he was, and it pissed me off. So I slept with James. Probably shouldn’t have. It wasn’t even very good.”

James was Michael’s friend. He was over thirty, if I remembered right. As much as I wanted to tell Nat that was gross and weird and that she was hanging out with pedophiles, I didn’t. Luckily, she kept talking to fill my silence.

“The stuff he gave me was good though.”

“The stuff?”

“Mmhm.” Nat closed her eyes, but I got the distinct impression she wasn’t tired. I pulled a pair of shorts up her legs, then a baggy T-shirt over her head. I imagined this was similar to dressing a corpse, the way she flopped around, no help at all. “But it was a one-time thing. Promise.”

I froze. She was talking about drugs, I realized. He’d given her drugs. Was it going to kill her? Make her violently ill?

“Is it good with Atlas?” Nat asked, and I was glad her eyes were closed.

“Oh, we um, we haven’t had sex.” I assumed Nat knew that. Maybe she did. This drunk version of my sister felt like a different person. When she woke up sober, she’d tell me she knew I was a virgin. She’d also assure me I misunderstood. She obviously wasn’t doing drugs and having sex with thirty-year-old men.

“Why not?” Her eyes popped open, and that unsettling smile from before returned. “He’s so in love with you, Vi.”

I didn’t have an answer to that. I knew Atlas was in love with me, and he knew I was in love with him. Telling her the truth, that I was nervous and so was he, wouldn’t be satisfying for her. She’d think we were stupid, and I didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s not fair.” She closed her eyes again, mouth set in a harsh line. I pulled the comforter over her and stepped back, unsure what to do next. She didn’t seem like she was sleepy, but at least she was quiet. Nat opened one eye, and squinted at me. “It’s not fair, Vi. That he loves you and no one loves me.”

“Lots of people love you,” I said. But that wasn’t what she meant, and I knew it. “I love you. Mom loves you. Phoebe does too, if you’d just make up already.”

“People only love me sometimes,” Nat said. She closed her eyes again. “They love me until they ruin me, and then they don’t want me anymore.”

“You’re not ruined, Nat.” I brushed a few wayward strands of her hair away from her face. “You’re just…”

I trailed off as I fussed with her blankets. Nat rolled away from me, and even though I knew she was awake, I told myself she’d fallen asleep, just so I didn’t feel guilty for leaving that sentence unfinished.

Chapter 19

now

“This is a nice truck.”

I run my hands over the smooth leather of my seat. We’ve been driving for thirty minutes, headed for the Oregon coast. Soft pop music plays over the speakers, and flashes of ocean and greenery stretch before us. Atlas and I haven’t spoken since we left, and while the quiet was bearable at first, I’m getting restless. Hands roaming over his expensive leather seats. Mind scrambling for topics of conversation. Atlas, meanwhile, looks relaxed, one arm on the steering wheel, the other draped over the middle console.