“Why don’t you like Sloane?” I ask her, confused as to where her contempt for Sloane comes from.
She ignores my questions and starts back up on one of her rants. “You know I used to like her. Plus, when she was around Ronan would be there as well, and he was always fun to have around. But Sloane, she got on my nerves. At first, I wasn’t sure why, then I realized I was jealous of her. I mean, sure, I had Linc, but it’s your attention I wanted.”
She has me completely confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh come on, Liam,” she says with a dry laugh. “You can’t be serious?”
At my uncomfortable silence, she continues. “Do you remember when I was ten and I broke my arm? Probably not. Other than signing my cast, you didn’t really pay attention to me. For some reason, I had it in my mind that you would finally give me attention like you did Sloane. A few months later, Sloane sprained her wrist at gymnastics or something, and you doted on her as if she was a queen. It’s always been Sloane this and Sloane that. Icould never get you to watch a movie with me, yet I swear, every time you came home from Ronan’s house, you would tell us that you watchedMadagascarwith Sloane. I got my license and you couldn’t have cared less, but you taughtherhow to drive. I got my heart broken, didn’t make the volleyball team, got into my dream school . . . but I never got anything from you. Sure, you threatened to go kick the guy who broke my heart’s ass, would give me a high five, but it was always the bare minimum.”
For fuck’s sake. As if I didn’t already feel like a sack of shit human being, now I’m learning that I’ve been a horrible brother to Summer for years. I need to go for a run, get my thoughts in order, then forget everything. I just need the sound of my feet hitting the ground to keep me company. But as it is, I can barely pace the room. Instead, I’m stuck sitting in the same spot, picking at my nails as my younger sister tells me how I’ve been a shit brother her entire life.
“Then I got older, and I got it. I got that she was part of you more than I could ever be part of you. Where she went your eyes followed, not in a creepy way, though. Always just checking, making sure she was okay, making sure she was happy. It was kinda cute, in a way. That is, until I saw her looking at you. At first, that was cute too. What girl didn’t have a crush on her brother’s best friend or friends—it’s a right of passage, really. But the look she gave you never changed. If anything, I swear every time I saw her looking at you she was falling deeper in love. I realized it wasn’t just infatuation. Then, she fell off the face of theearth—never to be heard of again. Until you moved in with her.”
Say what you will about Summer, but the girl is perceptive.
“So, I’m going to ask you this once—offer you my help once. Only because, over the years, the more I watched you two together and how unbearable you were after she left for school, I know that Sloane is part of you on a deep level. Deeper than you’re probably willing to admit.”
Summer rarely offers to help me, and now I know why. I always thought it was my grumpiness that kept my only sister at bay, but apparently it was my relationship with Sloane. Looking back now, knowing what I know, and what Summer seems to always have known, I can see that she did try to help me when Sloane first left for Montreal. I think those first six months without Sloane were when I spent the most time I ever had with Summer. Hell, we even went on vacation together, texted almost every day, and called each other at least once a week. But then, after a while—probably after me getting back to my grumpy asshole self with her because I realized Sloane wasn’t coming back—we stopped talking every day.
“Fuck, Summer. I’m sorry—” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, I’m not calling for an apology. I know you love me,blah blah blah,and all the other bullshit. Just tell me what happened. If not, I’m calling Ronan and telling him you hurt his baby sister.”
And that is why my younger sister is the best. She might be a little on the selfish side, but if she’s on your side, she’lldo anything for you. My only problem is, I doubt she’ll be on my side after I tell her what I did. I already feel ashamed and disgusted with myself for what I did, but the feeling is tenfold now that I have to tell my sister. We might not be the closest siblings, and I might be the older of the two, but I know I’m going to disappoint her, which makes my stomach churn even more.
Reaching over to my bedside table, I grab a few Tums before telling her what happened.
“Do you want me to start with the first time, or what I did two days ago?”
“Sounds juicy. I want all the details. Start right from the beginning,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice—she’s enjoying this.
“Seven years ago, right before she went off to university, she had finally gotten invited to a party,” I start, but then decide to skip over all the gory details. “Long story short, she got drunk, called me to come pick her up, and once I got her home she kinda threw herself at me—”
I’m cut off by Summer making some weird squeaking noise. “Noooo! Damn, the girl has balls! Go Sloane!”
“I thought you didn’t like her?” I ask.
“Now I do! Keep going!” she encourages.
“So, she kisses me. At first, I was taken aback . . . but then I started kissing her back. Everything just felt so right, clear, settled. But I pushed her away because, one, she was drunk, and two, she was eighteen. I wasn’t about to take advantage of a drunk eighteen year old. She did not appreciate that,” I say, as Summer scoffs.
“Yeah, probably because you were a complete dick to her for once like you are to the rest of us mere mortals.”
“Are you going to listen or be an ass?” I ask, getting frustrated at her. Here I am, trying to spill my guts to her, and she’s laughing. I’m remembering now why I don’t really talk to my siblings.
“I’m gonna listen, but you know damn well I’m also going to provide running commentary, so keep going.”
You love her. You love her. She’s your younger sister, I chant to myself so I don’t hang up on her. Plus, she might be able to help me out.
“Just keep it to a minimum, please.”
“I’m sorry, did you just sayplease? I must be dreaming. Are you sure you don’t have a fever?”
“For fuck’s sake, Summer, are you going to listen or not?”
“Oh get over yourself, Liam. I’ll try to keep quiet, just tell me what happened after the kiss.”
“After that, she moved to the other side of the country without telling me. She was supposed to stay in Vancouver but decided to go to Montreal. I got the hint—she didn’t want anything to do with me, so I didn’t try to contact her. I figured I’d only make things worse.” I was expecting her to cut in here, but surprisingly, she stayed quiet. “So, yeah, I hadn’t seen her or talked to her, until Ronan told me she was okay with me moving in with her. So, I moved in. It was clear she wasn’t impressed. At first, she ignored me, then we became friendly. I kissed her and she pushed me away, but then she found out I continued to write her notes over the years, even though she wasn’t even talkingto me. Next thing you know we’re . . .” I trail off. Saying we slept together is too casual; it was more than sex. I’ve had plenty of sex in my time and it’s never felt like what Sloane and I did. What happened between us was more than just sex.
