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He stops in his tracks, staring at me like I’m a ghost.
“What?” he barks coldly, holding the huge black bag of military gear I’ve seen him packing before.
“We’re not done yet,” I say firmly, pushing my hands against his chest. “Look, I don’t care if you don’t want me. That’s not the point. I won’t let you tease me anymore.”
For a second, his face hardens with mixed emotions.
Frustration.
Anger.
Disappointment.
“Good. Then kindly move and let me get on with my morning,sis.”
Damn him.
Something about the way he says that last word sends a chill up my spine.
“Wait!” I grab his arm as he tries to walk past. He doesn’t stop until he’s practically dragging me behind him. “Don’t go yet. I don’t want us to be enemies, Chris. Or even these weird, awkward people who just have to share a house because our parents are—”
“Delia,move,” he snarls, shaking me off.
“Please. It doesn’t have to be like this,” I say, hating how weak my voice sounds.
But he’s moving again with no sign of stopping.
I don’t follow, too weighed down by heavy pieces of my heart.
I’m about to turn and limp back to my room, but he stops at the edge of the stairs and looks back at me, shaking his head slowly.
“Princess, I don’t know what your issues are, but get ’em sorted. I can’t help you. I’m your stepbro in name only. You’re damn sweet, and you’ve got a body guys will kill for. Forget me. Get yourself a boyfriend, and maybe someday, we’ll all laugh about this insanity.”
Every sentence cuts through me like flaming arrows.
I want to race after him, throw myself into his arms.
Knowing it’s the worst idea doesn’t make it any easier to resist.
Still, I keep my feet rooted to the floor, listening numbly as he heads downstairs. The faintthudof the front door falling shut echoes through the house a minute later like a gavel coming down.
Awesome.
Now I’m alone, I’m sexless, and the man who was supposed to give me a paper that could put my name on the map just walked out of my life.
* * *
I’m holedup in the house for the next day, never catching a glimpse of Chris.
Mostly, I’m in my room, escaping into a painted wonderland where no one ever gets a horrible crush on a walking case of heartbreak they’re forced to live with.
It’s a new scene, desolate of people and their crap. A desert sunset I remember vividly from trips with Dad to Utah and Arizona when I was young.
The way the sky layers over the blood-red earth soothes my soul as I bring it back to life. It’s the loud, vibrant colors that make the landscape shine like nothing else.
Aqua-blue sky like the upside-down sea.
Sandstone orange like a Creamsicle.
