“You leftus, Venus,” she returns, keeping her calm tone like Dad would.“You’re the one who rarely took our calls or answered our texts.You shut us out.”
“No one wants me here!”My harsh tone mirrors the bitterness inside me and masks the sadness—more feelings I don’t want.“Don’t act like you weren’t relieved that I wasn’t around to embarrass you—what was it you told your friends?That I was only yourhalf-sister?Please spare me thesisterlyconcern.You were both grateful to see the back of me.You didn’t even want me here the other night.”
“Of course, I did!”She plops onto the bed’s edge with a defined slump.“The other night was meant to be about Gil and me.So, yes, the night became,understandably, about you, and that made me nervous… Ireallylike him, Venus.And he has this annoyingly conventional family, and they’re all extremely loving and close.I worried that ours would seem awkward to him.You know?”
My tense shoulders soften slightly.“Yes, I understand that feeling.”
“But, you’re right.I could’ve been a better sister back then.Iamsorry.It’s just sometimes you were…”
“Difficult.I get it,” I fume, shoving more clothes into my bag.
“Smart, creative, adventurous, but yes, at times, difficult.And too direct.You told my best friend that you suspected her father was an alcoholic based on his driving skills in the carline.”
“He was inconsistent and swervy.”
“And remember, Connor, the boy I liked?You informed him that it wouldn’t work out between us because he was too dumb for me.”
“He was, Ivy.”
“Okay, he was.But you shouldn’t have said that.What if I wanted a dumb boy right then?”Her lips curl into a coy grin.
I smirk.“I hadn’t considered that.”
“I get that it was your way of watching out for me.But sometimes, your directness was… too direct.You didn’t give anyone a chance.”
Her words align with Dad’s.You didn’t give them a chance to love you.My anger relents behind consideration.Perhaps their observation is valid.
“Wewant you here.Iwant you here.I want us to befullsisters.But you have to give us a chance,” she says.“You can’t run at every little hiccup.”
“A hiccup?It’s more like a… brain aneurysm.”
A light sigh slips from her.“Please, Venus.Tell me what happened with Henry.”
Hearing her say his name again, so gently, shakes my emotions loose, like she’s tipped over a jar of marbles.Tears plummet from my eyes suddenly and with such force that my knees buckle.Ivy catches me and pulls me close.I bury my face in her satin hair and inhale the scent of jasmine.
“He hates me,” I blubber.“He hates me.”
“He said that?”
“No, but…” I shake my head against her.“I.I.I can’t be here anymore.”
She rocks me against her, rubbing my back in small, consoling circles.“It’s okay.Everything’s okay.”
But her words remind me of Henry, too, bringing both comfort and despair.I feel like I’ve charged straight into a storm, dodging lightning bolts all around me—seeing Henry, his anguish, Ivy’s presence, Dad’s trick, my sadness and loneliness now raw and stinging, all of this terrible vulnerability.Hit after hit after hit.
“Breathe,” she whispers.“It’s all okay… or it will be.”
“How?”
She sighs against me.We’re still embracing?The realization sneaks through my distress, but I don’t pull away.
“Let’s operate in facts.Shall we?The fact is…” she begins after a moment.“You shouldn’t make any decisions about leaving while you’re upset.”
I nod into her shoulder and mumble, “Um, that’s logical.”
“Okay, we’ve got this.Do you trust me enough to try something?”
I nod again and relax away from her grasp.
