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So summoning some strength, I reach a hand out to caress her smooth cheek.
“Oh Nicole,” I say. “This isn’t just a break-up. It’s so much more than that.”
My little sister’s silent for a moment. But then she takes a big breath and speaks.
“Carrie,” she says tentatively. “I always knew what you were doing. I knew you signed up on the site the day you did it. I knew that you had money because you were sleeping with someone. I didn’t know it was Mason at first, but I figured it out.”
My head snaps towards her.
“How did you know?” is my low voice. “How did you figure it out?”
Nicole looks down first, but then meets my gaze straight on.
“I logged on as you,” she says simply. “We were sharing a laptop, and I know your password. I’ve known it for ages,” she admits. “So I logged on as you and saw what you were doing. But it’s okay,” she adds quickly. “You were doing it for us.”
The realization strikes me to the heart. So all this time, my baby sister’s known about my whorish ways? She knows that I’ve been slutting myself out for money? Selling my body so that we’d have a place to stay?
And like she can read my mind, Nicole nods.
“Yes, I knew. But I don’t see it that way. I don’t see it like you were doing anything illegal or wrong or bad. I saw it as my big, brave older sister doing what she needed to do so that we could survive. You’ve done so much Carrie,” she says with a lump in her throat. “I’ve never told you thank you.”
Tears begin to form in my eyes. Because I didn’t want my sister exposed to this. There’s an innocence and naiveté to Nicole that needs to be preserved, and I didn’t want her to be dragged into this. But the mess is too big now. Santa doesn’t exist, and the truth is out of the closet.
“I’m sorry,” I say in a low voice. “I suspected you knew, but I didn’t know how to talk to you about it. Like an ostrich with its head in the sand you know?” I say, my voice trembling. “I sort of knew, but didn’t want to believe.”
And Nicole takes a deep breath before looking at me squarely.
“You don’t have to do it anymore,” she says in a steady voice. “Not for me. Not for us. And not for you, either.”
I look at her blankly.
“What do you mean?”
My sister takes another deep breath.
“I’m old enough Carrie. I’m almost sixteen now. I can take care of myself, you don’t have to worry.”
My head shakes slowly with disbelief.
“That’s it sweetheart,” are my soft words. “You’re not even sixteen. You’re not old enough. You don’t know.”
But Nicole shakes her head resolutely.
“I am,” she says in a firm tone. And then she fixes me with a wavery yet stern glare. “When you were sixteen Carrie, you already had two jobs. You were already going to school, working part-time afterwards, and then getting up early to put in a shift at the bakery before classes. You did all that so that I could be in Girl Scouts, so that I could have a uniform like everyone else. You did all that because Mom and Dad didn’t have any money, and we needed cash. So I can do it too,” she finishes in a rush. “I can do it too.”
But I shake my head.
“No. You’re my baby, and I don’t want you to go through that like I did. Do you know how tired I was every night? How I could barely keep my eyes open during class? I don’t want that for you. You’re college bound, and you need to study.”
But Nicole shakes her head.
“I already got a job,” she says softly. “It doesn’t pay that much, but they said I can study while I’m working.”
My head shakes.
“What job is that?”
In my experience, an employer pays for your time and wants your full attention. Like Mason.
“At the library,” Nicole says firmly. “I’m going to work the circulation desk. But when no one needs help, they said I could study.”
And cocking my head, I think. That doesn’t sound so bad. It’s safe for sure, and the library is generally quiet and peaceful. Nicole should be able to get a lot done.
So I nod.
“Okay,” I say slowly. “Okay, but let’s see how it goes first. Just take a few shifts a week, and then let’s re-consider.”
She nods happily.
“I’m glad you approve,” are her delighted words. But then the smile falls from her face. “But Carrie, I didn’t want to talk about me. I wanted to talk about you, and all this,” she says, waving her hand in a vague circle.
“All what?” are my words, suddenly flat.
Nicole gulps.
“You know, all this,” she replies helplessly, still gesturing. “This apartment. This life we live. And Mason.”
