“Can you make me some food, please?” she groaned at him, rubbing her stomach. She felt hungry, and slightly nauseated. Too much to drink!
“Sure, Sara. What do you want?”
“Pancakes!” she cried, grinning at him like mad. “And some of that gingerbread you were baking earlier,” she chirped, remembering the mouthwatering smell that had flooded the kitchen when she had first arrived. Though it was no longer her favorite, it was still one of her favorites.
“No problem.”
“Thanks, Nick,” she said, leaning up on the armrest of the sofa to watch her brother cook in the kitchen. He was still wearing his jeans and shirt, but when he reached up to get the pancake mix from the cupboard, a sliver of his skin was exposed.
“You said I was your girl,” Sara teased, grinning at her brother.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Sara, you definitely need some food. Also, you drank way too much! You should be pacing yourself. That was stupid of you. You could have gotten into trouble!”
“Sorry,” she said, feeling hurt at her brother’s admonishment. “It’s just, I was nervous, you know? Meeting all your friends. I didn’t realize I had so much to drink.”
“I know. Sorry, Sara,” and Nick spoke with a sigh. “It’s just that those two assholes who bought you a drink were out of it. Who knows what could have happened?”
“Oh, come on!” Sara snorted. “Nothing would have happened.”
“That you would remember,” Nick hissed at her. His voice was, for a moment, filled with nastiness, before his face warmed and his voice softened. “You never know, Sara.”
“That smells good!” she said, determined to change the topic. She got up from the sofa and walked to the kitchen counter. “When did you learn how to make pancakes?”
“It’s not rocket science.”
“Or heart surgery.”
“Or that.” He placed the plate on the counter, and on it were three pancakes with syrup drizzled over them.
“And the gingerbread?” Sara asked, sitting down and swaying gently left and right on her seat.
“Coming up. Start first.”
“What about you?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Sure you aren’t,” she said. “I don’t know why you control what you eat so much.”
“You know,” Nick said with a laugh, and he turned around to face her. “I don’t have a body like yours. You could eat mountains and you’d never get fat. See this?” And he patted his stomach and defined forearms. “I have to work for this.”
“I’m not so skinny anymore!” Sara protested. “At least, I think I’ve filled out quite nicely.”
“And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think so, too, Sara, but you didn’t have to work for it. It just kind of happened. You’re lucky. Not many people are able to be so careless with their diets. But age will catch up to you soon.”
“Don’t you think I’ve filled out quite nicely?” Sara asked, repeating herself and resting her head on one of her hands. She grinned at her step-brother, and couldn’t help but think how gorgeous a boy he was.
A wave of lucidity washed over her, and she sat up straight, feeling the prick of shame. “Nick,” she spoke seriously.
“What?” he asked. His face was a tableau of uncertainty, but it almost looked to Sara as if he knew that what she was about to say would make things awkward.
“Um,” Sara said, feeling her resolve faltering. Just moments ago she had felt such a strong need to tell him, to admit to him what had been that aching echo in the back of her mind for years, what she had just been thinking about earlier in the day.
“What is it?”