I hate it. But I also appreciate it.
But I still hate it.
My body zings with nerves; I take in a breath and knock on her bedroom door.
“Come in.”
I open the door but don’t enter. It’s hard enough keeping my thoughts and hands in line as is. I don’t need to make it harder on myself by stepping into a private space with Siena.
She looks at me from where she’s sitting on the bed—the bed we wrestled on when we first got here two weeks ago.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey.” Her tone is upbeat, but the look that passes between us says something like,This sucks, but this is how it has to be.
I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. “I think your family just pulled up.”
She glances at her laptop. “Oh, wow. I lost track of time.”
“Ha! I’ve had the opposite problem.”
She stares me down like I’ve just mentioned The-Problem-That-Must-Not-Be-Named.
“Sorry,” I say with a grimace. It’s true, though. If time hadn’t passed in a completely normal way for the first week and a half of this trip, I’d be tempted to think the French not only speak language differently than me but also do time differently. “Anyway, I’m going to go help with their baggage.”
She shuts her laptop. “I’m coming.”
Madi’s always talked about Siena’s family in a way that, if I’m being honest, is pretty annoying. It’s like she considers them as family more than me. So, I guess I’ve been jealous.
But greeting the Sheppards outside and helping with their luggage, I suddenly get it. Not just any family flies to France to attend the wedding of their daughter’s friend. They really care about Madi, and that makes me feel a hundred types of guilty. My determination not to get pegged in the role of replacement dad left a gap in Madi’s life that she evidently filled with the Sheppards.
I can’t blame her. In fact, I envy her.
They’ve got the sort of family dynamic you’d expect on prime-time TV, full of fun and banter. Her parents embrace me like I’m a prodigal son, and Troy offers me a solid bro-hug. As for Tori, her welcome is lacking, but that’s only because she’s fast asleep in the back of the rental car.
“Has Siena been behaving herself?” her dad asks in a stern tone that’s undermined by the fact that he’s got his arm draped around her. He destroys it entirely by placing a kiss on her hair.
“Oh, she’s been a handful, sir,” I say. Their family vibe can’t help but put me in a better mood and get me out of my head a bit.
“That’s my girl,” he says, grinning.
Siena slips from under his arm and peeks in the car. “Tori.”
“Don’t do it,” Troy says, backing away. “Don’t wake the monster.”
“Tori,” Siena says louder, ignoring her brother’s warning.
Eyes still closed, Tori swats at her, then pulls her hood over her face. “Leave me alone.” Her words are slurred as she nuzzles her head into her backpack. She and Siena are two years apart in age, but they don’t look like sisters at first glance. Tori’s long blond hair hangs over her shoulder in a messy braid. Siena and Troy look much more alike, with their dark coloring.
Troy shoots Siena a significant look.
“Fine,” Siena says, “but you better not sleep through the bachelorette party.”
“I won’t let her,” Mrs. Sheppard says. “But she’ll be much more pleasant with a few hours of sleep under her belt. Our flight was completely full, and she had a middle seat. Between strangers.”
Siena and I share a glance, both thinking of our flight here. I had a middle seat, and I woke up on Siena’s lap.
Gosh, that sounds good right now. I wonder if she’s thinking the same thing.
