[completed] Nova Carter knows exactly what the next few years of her life will look like: she will work harder than anyone else (as she didn't get into New York University to slack off); she'll be keeping her head down and prioritizing getting her a...
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Chapter Thirty-one | Better Than I Know Myself ♫Better Than I Know Myself by Del Water Gap
Sofia's hands are running through my hair.
I catch a glimpse of her in the mirror, the slight pout on her lips as she concentratedly braids my hair. I sit on the edge of the toilet seat as her fingers move slowly and softly.
The last time someone braided my hair was in my sophomore year of high school, maybe, when Mom still helped me every morning. I'd sit on the closed toilet seat just like this and she'd stand behind me, reciting bible verses and prayers to start our days with.
This morning isn't quite like that. The bathroom door is cracked open and I can see Flynn's outstretched legs as he's sitting on my desk chair, tapping his feet to some song he's playing on his phone.
My parents decided they wanted to tour the sights and none of us felt compelled to come with, so Flynn and Sofia showed up at my dorm early in the morning, bearing baked goods and coffee (that I let them drink, because I lost my tumbler). We'd been hanging out all day when Sofia made a comment about knots in my hair and I convinced her to brush and braid it for me. Granted, she's not doing it for free, so I'm buying her hot chocolate before she's off to Pittsburgh again.
"Should I leave some strands out? Like this?" Sofia finishes the braid and moves to stand in front of me, plucking some strands of hair from behind my ears.
I lean forward to peek in the mirror and nod. "Yeah, that's cute. Thank you."
My sister smiles, satisfied with herself, and washes her hands. "I'm still shocked you have an entire bathroom to yourself at NYU. I used to be in a dormitory with communal bathrooms. It was terrible."
"Is that why you and Ava got your own place so quickly?"
Sofia nods. "It helps that she's a cleaning freak, too. She still keeps cleaning supplies in her bedroom for 'emergencies', whatever that means. I mean, we live in an apartment. It's not like she can't come out of her room and find whatever she needs literally right there."
"You're kind of a cleaning freak, too," I tell her matter-of-factly. "I mean, you used to scold Mom for not changing her bedsheets every Sunday."
"I just think it's embarrassing she even needed her teenaged daughter to remind her at all," Sofia protests.
We move out of the bathroom to join Flynn, who's sitting on the seat backwards, his legs around the backrest and his chin on top as he scrolls through his phone. He always had an affinity for sitting on chairs the wrong way. Dad used to send him to his room when he crouched on the seat at dinner instead of 'sitting on his damn butt already'.
"I miss living with you guys."
They both give me grossed-out looks in a way only older siblings know how to.
