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CHAPTER 1
TEN YEARS AGO
Derek
“Hold still,Derek, or I’m going to strangle you with this tie,” my sister, Heather, says with a pointed tug on the green silk tie currently wrapped around my neck.
“Then hurry up,” I huff. “My back is starting to hurt from bending over.”
“I’m literally only an inch shorter than you in these heels,” she counters. Her fingers continue to tuck and fold the tie for the fourth time. I honestly don’t care if it doesn’t look perfect, but my picture-perfect sister has other ideas.
“Ugh,” she groans. “This tie is too fat for a Windsor knot. Do you have another one?”
I roll my eyes. Who does she think I am? James Bond?
“No.”
“Let me try,” Avery, my other sister, enters the Jack and Jill bathroom that separates my bedroom from the one my twin sisters shared when they lived at home. She gently nudges Heather out of the way and attempts to fix my tie.
“This is stupid,” I mutter. “I don’t even know why I have to wear a tie.”
“Because you’re going to prom,” Avery says. “And Mom told me Olivia bought you this tie.” She mentions my childhood best friend—the same friend my sisters view as family. Olivia is the daughter of our Aunt Chloe and Uncle Derek, our parents’ best friends, and we all grew up in Ann Arbor together.
“So?” I groan when Avery tugs so I’m forced to bend down a little more so she can see her work more easily.
“So, you’ll hurt her feelings if you don’t wear it.”
“I don’t think so.” My sisters and I all grew up with Olivia, but she and I are the closest. That is understandable, considering we’re the same age and we share similar interests like cheesy sci-fi shows, angsty alternative pop-rock music, and more.
“You’re wearing the tie,” Avery says, straightening the knot and then patting my chest. “There. Good enough.”
I turn to look in the bathroom mirror. My black suit is tighter around the shoulders than the last time I wore it at my great uncle’s funeral, but it looks good enough. “Cool. Thanks.”
“But it’s a little loose on the edge.” Heather reaches out, but I swat her hand away. “Hey!”
“Stop it,” I demand. “It’s fine.”
My blonde sister pouts. “But it’s your prom, Derek! I promised Mom I’d take a ton of pictures. You need to look perfect.” Normally, I’d be having this argument with my mom directly. But she and Dad had to go to check on Grandmom this weekend. She’s been sick lately, and she recently took a turn for the worse and ended up in the hospital earlier this week. There’s talk of moving Dad’s mom to a nursing home closer to us. I hope it’s true. I love Grandmom Paula. It would be nice to see her more often. And it would be easier for my parents to not have to travel so far to check on her.
Mom hates that she’s missing being here for my prom night, but the fact my overbearing sisters came to town to help lessen some of her guilt.
“You can take one picture,” I counter.
“No way, Mom will kill me.”
“She knows I hate pictures. She’ll be happy I agreed to take any.”
“We’ll have to take at least two,” Avery interjects. “One of just you and one of the three amigos.”
I sigh. “Fine, but that’s it.” I’m going to prom with Olivia and our other best friend, Kyle. We’ve been a trio since middle school. There isn’t much we do without each other. And that includes unnecessary high school traditions ranging from attending Friday night football games to tonight’s senior prom. Olivia, Kyle, and I are more academically inclined than social butterflies, but our families insist we step out of our comfort zone every once in a while to “make memories”. I’ve learned it’s better to go along with their requests rather than try and argue with my psychologist parents. They have too many stats regarding higher incidences of healthy self-esteem in adolescents who regularly engage in novel experiences under their belt for me to hope to win an argument with them.
I walk out of the bathroom and walk downstairs into the living room. My sisters follow.
“You know, I’m surprised Olivia isn’t going to prom with Hector Cantu.”
I almost trip in the freshly polished Oxford shoes I borrowed from Dad’s closet. I whirl around and face Avery. “Why would you say that?”
My sensible sister shrugs. “I saw the two of them talking outside Robertson’s the last time I was home,” she mentions the grocery store where Olivia works. If I’m not mistaken, Hector works there too. “He seemed into her.”
