She turns around and cocks her eyebrow up again, right along with that annoyed look she gets in her eyes when she’s done with someone. I think she thinks doing that makes her look intimidating or something, but it just makes me want to smile.
If I pretend hard enough, it feels like we are kids again, arguing over the best pizza toppings. I’ve forgotten how much I used to love riling her up when she would get that look in her eyes.
So that’s exactly what I do. I flash her the biggest smile I can as I cross my arms over my chest. That makes her adorably-cocked eyebrow turn into a full on death stare. Which is exactly the type of reaction I was hoping to coax out of her. I’m giving up this whole ‘walking on eggshells’ thing from now on. If she wants to dish it out, she’s going to get it right back, in the nicest way possible.
Now that I’ve settled on not trying to grovel for a scrap of her attention, I feel much happier being here. I may not get back on her good side, but I’ll sure have fun getting under her skin while she’s home.
She hasn’t broken eye contact with me yet, which has to count for something, right? Piper is utterly clueless of the showdown happening in this car as she sings loudly along to Three Days Grace. The tension between Phoebe and me is at nuclear level, and it takes every ounce of self discipline to not reach down and adjust my pants. She’s hot as hell when she’s angry. And by the way her fist is clenched on her lap, and the tick of her jaw grinding back and forth, she’sdefinitelyangry at me.
We stay locked in this ‘battle to the death’ stare-down until Piper pulls into Lucene’s parking lot. She glances over at her sister, and then back at me before she gets out of the car and slams the door loudly on us. Leaving us alone in this compact car with “I Hate Everything About You” screaming from the speakers. It’s oddly fitting for this moment.
Phoebe doesn’t break her stare, which means there’s no chance that I am either. Her lips part slightly, and I find myself bracing for the words that are getting ready to come out of her mouth. It’ll be the first time she’s actually spoken to me in five years, because I don’t count her asking if I want food as our first conversation together. That was just politeness, the words she speaks now will be because shewantsto speak them.
She unclenches her fist and shakes her hand out quickly. Then she finally breaks eye contact with me and grabs her purse. “Come on. Pipes can’t carry all the food herself,” she says and then exits the car.
Fuck my life.
Chapter Five
Phoebe
Imustnotfallfor Spencer Larson.
I will not fall for Spencer Larson.
Please for the love of Christmas, do not make it easy to fall for Spencer freaking Larson. I repeat this mantra the whole drive home, while pretending to not be totally tied up in knots over the way he smiled at me. It’s not fair for him to be this good looking, or to have that total panty-dropping smile.
The smile that turns my brain into a useless pile of putty. I almost told him that I missed him, and that I’m glad he’s here. I came to my senses at the last minute though, and the bitchy side of me came back out. It seems to be my default setting around him now. I’m either ready to fall into his arms and let him have his way with me, or I’m ready to punch him in that stupid, handsome face of his.
When we were younger, seeing Spencer walk up the front steps to our house used to make my heart flutter. I couldn’t wait to squeeze myself between him and Piper on the couch as we all watched the Aliens movies on repeat. But after the Winter Formal, and watching them lock lips—being stuck in this tiny car with them makes me want to scream.
Run far away, and scream.
I haven’t paid attention to anything that Piper and Spencer have said during this short drive back to my parents house, and I’m surprised when I feel a light tap on my shoulder. I turn and Spencer has his face resting on the top of my seat, his cheek is inches away from my face, and I can see the 5 o’clock shadow he has growing in. My hand twitches in my lap, and I have to force myself not to reach up and stroke his cheek. I love the feeling of running my hands through a man’s scruff, and my fingers are itching to touch him.
“Did you hear me?” Spencer’s breath smells like peppermint, which goes nicely with the rest of him smelling like a freaking Christmas tree. “Phoebe?”
“What, sorry. I was uh…zoning out. What did you say?” I feel the blood rush to my cheeks as he flashes that damn smile at me again. There’s no way I don’t look like a full-faced tomato right now.
“I asked how you were enjoying living in New York. I’ve always wanted to visit,” he says.
Honestly, I hate living in New York. The city is crowded, the traffic is horrible, and it takes forever to get anywhere. But, I fought my parents so hard when I got accepted into NYU to study art history. They wanted me to stay closer to home since Piper was leaving for basic training after graduation, and could be stationed anywhere in the world with her joining to become a nurse. I didn’t think it was fair to have to be the one to pick up the emotional slack for everyone, when all I wanted to do was branch out and experience life outside of this small town.
How stupid and naive I was.
But I don’t tell him any of that, because that would be admitting failure, and I’m not down for that. Especially because I don’t know how to break the news to my family that I’ve come to the realization that working in the museum isn’t everything I hoped it would be, and that I’m toying around with the idea of going back to school to get a teaching degree. I’ll save that drama and disappointment for another day though.
Instead, I give Spencer the answer everyone expects. “I love it. The city at night is beautiful, and there’s nothing quite as remarkable as New Years Eve at Times Square,”
I’m actually not lying about that second part. I went by myself the New Years after I moved to the city. It was even better in person than it is on the television. Everyone is lost in the moment of bliss and excitement while they scream out the numbers as the clock runs down. The lights, the snow cascading gently onto the crowd, the applause, it’s one of the better moments I’ve experienced while living there.
It was also one of the most lonely.
Piper pulls into the driveway of our childhood home and I’m hit with a wave of homesickness that makes my chest feel tight and heavy. I stare at all the Christmas lights strung up perfectly around the A-frame of the blue house, and all the same decorations that have covered our yard and patio for my entire life. Seeing the giant Christmas tree in the big bay window at the front of the house…it’s all the same. Exactly the way it was when I left five years ago. I have to choke back a sob that’s trying to claw its way out of my throat. I’ve missed this place so much.
Piper reaches over and squeezes my hand twice. She must know I’m on the verge of losing it because two squeezes has always been our silent code when words fail us. Two squeezes means ‘Are you okay?’. Three squeezes means ‘I will be’.
I squeeze her hand back three times and give her a sad smile. I know she has to miss this place even more than I do. She’s half a world away at all times.
