I ignore the voices, and watch the carriage house door close behind them.
A heaviness settles around me, something dark and oppressing, because even though I want to save my sister from me, I don’t know if I’m ready.
I smile at her. “Ready to go?”
She pauses, glancing back outside, hesitant now as she stares at the closed door of the Carriage House.
“Um… let’s have a raincheck, ok?”
I suck in a breath, startled that she would ditch me for this guy. I should’ve known from the new look on her face. The look of intoxication. But having it actually slap me in the face for the first time is still shocking.
She has an interest outside of me. Something that came between us, even though the moment is small… even though it’s just a stupid drive to the beach.
Even though I want to be unselfish, I don’t know if I can handle it.
We were outsiders our whole childhoods and all the way through high school. And while it sucked, it was also a hidden blessing, because since I was all Calla had, she focused solely on me. We’ve always been everything to each other.
Bile rises up in my throat as I watch her descend the porch steps and walk across the lawns, her chin stuck out, and her hands buried in her hair as she arranges it over her shoulder.
I need her. I need things to stay the same. But I can’t risk her. I can’t suck her down. I can’t let my craziness swallow her then spit her out. But I need her.
My thoughts are contradicting and confusing and swirl around in my brain until I can barely focus. I stagger to the window seat and stare down, my forehead pressed against the glass as I try to catch my breath.
Serva me, servabo te.
Save me, and I’ll save you.
As I remember the dark-haired guy’s confident stride, I have a feeling that he’s someone I won’t be able to save her from.
But the die has been cast.
I see that now.
7
SEPTUM
Calla
He came.
I think I’m in shock as I linger near the house, trying to seem like I’m casually sitting at the little table on the side porch, like I’m not waiting with bated breath for them to re-emerge.
I can’t believe he’s here.
It’s been days since he took dad’s phone number, and I waited every day, but he didn’t call. I thought he wasn’t going to, that I’d imagined the chemistry, the connection. Maybe even that I’d imagined him.
But he re-appeared in my dreams, again and again. Smiling at me, staring at me, being with me. My subconscious is definitely trying to urge me toward him, maybe even toward living again. I don’t know.
All I know is that he’s here, out of the blue today, with his dark eyes and British accent and on a motorcycle, no less.
Kismet prevails.
My lungs feel fluttery, along with my heart, my stomach and my ovaries. All of it feels quivery, like a shaking ridiculous mess. It feels like it’s meant to happen, that I keep bumping into him, and dreaming about him, and now he’s here in my life.
It almost takes my breath away.
This feeling only grows more pronounced when the Carriage House door finally opens and my father and Dare step back out. They shake hands and my father immediately heads back toward the house, a small smile on his lips. Halfway across the lawns, he diverts his course and heads for me.