"Anything. I mean it, Lizzie. You’re all here because of me and the shit my agent needs me to do. At the slightest inconvenience, mishap, or if anyone evenlooksat you guys the wrong way—"
"Call you. Got it. Are you always this protective?" She smirks, her foot wedged in the gap to stop the door from closing and locking her out.
"Only for the people I care about." I shove my hands deep into my pockets, my overnight bag slung across my chest.
"And you care about her? About Olive, I mean." Lizzie laughs nervously, her face going ghost-white, like she instantly regrets saying anything at all. "I get it. It’s all pretend. Good for your brand, good for hers. But I can’t shake the feeling that it’s...not right." She releases a heavy sigh, the color returning to her face slightly. "God, I’m sorry. That isn’t me. Cassandra had me rehearse a speech for you, but it feels so wrong." She shakes her head.
"Olive and I might not have what a typical marriage has, but we share a mutual respect. We know how important our careersare to each other, and I would never do anything to jeopardize that for her. Not with her health, and everything else going on."
"Her health?" Lizzie questions, blinking hard, like the words don’t make sense. "What? What do you mean, is she okay?" Her voice rises, hands resting on her hips. "God, I hate that she’s so private. It’s like she’s allergic to help."
"I just meant with her stress. She’s a lot busier than she used to be as a teacher. Nothing to worry about." I backpedal hard, doing my best to sound casual, even as panic prickles at my throat.
Hell,Idon’t even know what the deal is with her health. I’m too afraid to bring it up in case it’s what I think it is. I saw her medication that looked familiar, but I refuse to research it and find out if I’m right. She'll tell me when she’s ready.
"Right. Sorry. It’s just... she’s always been my baby sister, you know?" Her lips press together like she’s holding back more. "But she’s not a kid anymore." She clears her throat. "Anyway. I’ll catch you later."
"Call me if you—" The door slams in my face. "Need me," I finish quietly, to no one.
I sigh, rub the back of my neck and turn, heading down to my room.
***
My phone buzzes, cutting through the oddly soothing sounds of Vegas nightlife that put me to sleep earlier tonight.
Lizzie’s name lights up the screen in bold letters, and I sit up fast, heart kicking into gear. "Hello?"
"Avery?" The voice is slurred, and I struggle to hear it clearly. "Avery," it says again, messier this time.
Someone’s drunk. Very drunk.And it sure as hell isn’t the person who owns this phone.
"Hello?" I ask again, sitting up against the headboard, wincing at the coolness of the wood on my bare skin.
"It’s me."Olive."I don’t want to be out here anymore. The alcohol is making my body feel weird, and I don’t…I don’t think I like it." A tiny burp escapes her, and I smile to myself, throwing my feet over the side of the bed. "It kind of feels like…like maybe I won’t be able to walk very well tomorrow? Or maybe even not at all. Or I could just be drunk and paranoid because I don’t know how my medication goes when mixed with vodka I think I’m scared, Avery. I've definitely had too much to drink, and being dramatic, but I hate not being in control of my own body."
"Where are you?" I ask, sliding sweat pants up my legs and a hooded jumper over my head.
"In front of a bar called The Medusa."
I know exactly where that is. ??I collect my room key from the kitchen counter and head for the door. "Stay with your sisters. I’ll be there soon."
The phone beeps in my ear three times, and I know she’s ended the call before we have the chance to say another word.
Wellington has been on standby all night, so he isn’t surprised when I rip the back door open in a hurry, telling him to ‘go’.
My phone rings in my lap the moment the car starts moving, Lizzie’s name again in big letters across the screen.
"I’m coming, baby. Try not to stress about it, okay? GPS says three minutes."
"Baby?" Lizzie’s voice teases. I can’t even pretend it was an accident. "Wrong sister. But you’re already on your way. Good. All she keeps talking about is wanting to do things to you, which, gross, by the way. You really do care about her, don’t you?"
There’s a pause, the silence all too consuming.
"I told you I do. I wouldn’t lie about something like that."
"Oh boy. She’s going to break your heart. I hope you’re ready for that."
I already had a feeling it would end that way, but I know Olive would be worth the heartbreak.
