Sisters: Butterflies at Graduation [book two]

Chapter Seven

Thanks again @YerAlcoholicDad for the second cover! It's so sweet!

Chapter Seven

The party remains at the back of my thoughts for the entire weekend until Monday morning rolls around and Chelsea bubbles over from her locker five minutes before the bell rings. The image of her and Bridgit groping each other enters my head before it all topples into the forefront of my mind at once, like the building blocks of a toddler had accidentally been knocked over.

Esmee had slept with that guy (whose name escaped me, again), Bridgit was suddenly a lesbian - or a closet lesbian, or an unknown closet lesbian - and Zac had drunkenly blurted out his suppressed love for me. Alongside my sister's sudden reappearance into my life, a dark haired still-a-stranger surfer attached to her hip, my weekend had been anything but peaceful.

I honestly don't know which problem is easier to deal with.

Bridgit trots over, shortly after Chelsea's arrival. I half-expect them to come clean but Chelsea plays a game on her phone while Bridgit plays with her hair. If I hadn't stumbled upon them at the party, I wouldn't suspect a thing.

Esmee sprouts the events of her own weekend (the persistent texts from that boy: Reece. Ah yes, Reece) before Bridgit jumps in, presenting the three of us with brochures to the University of Chicago.

"It's the best college in the Midwest," Bridgit says, Esmee's story forgotten. "There's an open day on Saturday and I think we should go." There are no questions when Bridgit is concerned. Bridgit's way is the way it's done or it's not done at all. Sometimes it's decisive, sometimes it's annoying.

Mostly it's annoying.

"How the hell are we going to get to Chicago?" Chelsea says. Esmee buries her nose in the brochure and Bridgit sighs, like the answer is obvious.

"We can spend the weekend there," Chelsea says. "The flight is only an hour."

"Flight?" I repeat. "Bridgit, we're not made of money."

"It's better to look round colleges now than when we're bogged down by schoolwork and finals and the SATs and-"

"I'll go," Esmee pipes up.

Chelsea and I exchange nervous glances. "I don't know," Chelsea says. "I mean, I don't even know how long I'm staying in the US..."

"Oh my God," Bridgit scoffs. For a second, I think it's because of what Chelsea's said but then she points over Esmee's shoulder and I follow her line of vision, "Is that Jake and Lucy making out?" Lucy has her hands down the back-pockets of Jake's jeans and their tongues are eating each other's faces off.

Esmee crinkles her nose. "Ew, gross," she says. I can't tell if it's because she's jealous or because of the PDA. The bell rings and Bridgit and bites her cheeks in a grimace. The two of them trot on ahead, the subject of Chicago College sparking an animated conversation between them. I catch Esmee stealing a glance in Jake and Lucy's direction but doesn't say anything

Chelsea and I follow on behind. "I mean, I can ask my parents about Chicago," I say. "But my parents are paying a fortune on medical bills right now."

Chelsea's eyebrows lift. "How come?"

"I forgot you didn't know," I say. The slamming of lockers and raised voices across the hallway drowns my voice out. "My sister was in an accident and-"

"Wait what?" Chelsea says, leaning in closer. "What did you say?"

"I said, 'my sister was in an accident' and she lost her memory."