"She told me about her own failed romances when she was younger, and one thing led to another. I began revealing more about my experiences, and then one night, when she slept over, we, she..."

"What?" I asked, unable to keep my curiosity under control.

"She touched me, and it excited me, and then she touched me again, and then we kissed, and then it just happened. Neither of us talked about it afterward. We began sleeping at each other's homes more often, and for the first time in my life. I felt complete, uncomplicated, at ease. I slowly sank into my true self, and I guess I have Donna to thank."

"What happened to her?"

"I don't know. After high school, we kept in touch for a short while. Then she joined the army, and we drifted apart. I'm sure she found someone else, and that was fine. I wouldn't have wanted to have with her what I have with Brenda."

She was quiet, just staring at the floor.

"Peter is the first boy I have ever really thought about like that."

I said. "Do you think that means anything?" I asked. "I mean, because it took me so long to have these feelings?"

She shrugged. "If I've learned anything, April, it's that questions like that are not to be answered flippantly. Anyone who gives you an answer is just parroting some child psychology textbook."

She patted me on the knee and stood up.

"Let things just happen. What's meant to be will be." she said. "Are you sure you just want two eggs for dinner? There's this interesting new Thai restaurant I've discovered, and those dishes are very low in calories and fat if you order correctly. They're very tasty. too. You don't have to suffer on a diet, despite what Brenda says about no pain, no gain."

"Okay," I said. smiling.

After she had been so forthcoming with me. I felt foolish being petulant. Considering all that occupied Brenda's mind these days, I realized I was lucky to have Celia.

"Good. I hate eating alone, and when your sister is involved in an event like this all-star game, she is horrible company. I might as well be sitting with a mannequin at dinner-- or anywhere, for that matter. If I hear how stupid this coach's strategy is or how obvious his plays are one more time. I'll go down to the gymnasium and kill him myself," she said.

I laughed.

"Come in when you're ready, and we'll go to dinner," she said at the door.

"I asked Peter to join us at the game," I told her. "Oh?"

"Brenda still has extra tickets, doesn't she?"

"Far as I know, she does. You'll have to check with her and make sure she didn't give any to her old teammates. He's going, then?"

"Unless he thinks I'm an idiot and he doesn't want to have anything to do with me."

She shrugged, "If he does, he does, and that's that." she said. She peered hard at me. "You move on. April. You don't dwell on failures and regrets."

"Everyone says that in one way or another." I replied, thinking about the advice Peter's grandfather had given him.

"Then it must be true," Celia told me, and left.

I chose something to wear, washed my face, and brushed my hair so it looked like something, and then hurried across the yard to meet her and go to dinner. At dinner, she talked more about her own youth, some of the funnier things that had happened to her, the friends she had in college before Brenda, and her ambitions.

The wall that I had been building between myself and Celia began to crumble. It was horrible to think it, but in some ways. I was beginning to appreciate her more than my own sister. She appeared to notice it as well and told me she wished I would think of her as her new sister.

"We've got to remember that we only have each other now. It's you, me. and Brenda against the rest of the world, and you know what?"

"What?"

"We're going to do just fine. All of us." she said.

She reached across the table to squeeze my hand gently and smiled.

Brenda was in a small rage when she returned home after her practice. She said the coach had her boxed in with his stupid plays. He was favoring a girl from his own team. Charlotte Johnson.

Tags: V.C. Andrews Shadows Horror
Source: readsnovelonline.net