PHONE SWAP | drew starkey

26: NEW YEAR'S WISH

When there's a knock on the door, Addie is knee-deep in a pile of clothes, trying to sort out what to take and what to leave behind... in more ways than one.

  As for clothes, at least, there's always bits and pieces she forgets she likes and rediscovers when she comes home, always wanting to bring back cosy sweaters and warm tights until she remembers that Atlanta doesn't get as cold as Denver does. She packs the two of her favourite fleeces anyway; Marianne's always been a little sensitive about the cold.

  The footsteps are light and quick and the bed squeaks before Addie even gets to say come in. She knows by the slight sigh and the continuous squeaking—her sister can never just get comfortable—who it is.

  'God, I can't believe you're leaving already.'

  'I'm leaving in two days,' Addie stays. 'Just packing ahead. You know, if you wanna help out.'

  Liyah gives a dry chuckle. One hand is on her lap and the other twirling a curl around her finger, tugging it and stretching it as she watches it bounce back over and over again.

  Addie stuffs the fleece between a crewneck and a pair of jeans, and leans against the cupboard, facing her sister. 'What's up?'

  'Nothing.'

  They've played this game before. Liyah's eyes wander around the room and the tugging on her hair tightens the more it goes on, while Addie just taps a rhythm into the carpet and waits.

  In the end, Liyah sighs. 'Were you scared when you were starting senior year?'

  'No.'

  'No?'

  'I wasn't scared,' Addie says. She picks up a teal-coloured top her aunt got her for Christmas and folds it, neatly placing it in a gap between the clothes already in the suitcase. 'Just like you, I had just gotten a promotion at work. I was the Treasurer in school, I was keeping my GPA as high as I could, applying to summer jobs and internships and colleges and trying to decide what to do next. I hardly had time to think, Liyah, let alone to be scared.'

  Liyah's hands drop to her lap and she bites her lip – a sight Addie feels she's seen in the mirror plenty of times, too. 'I never realised.'

  'It's fine. I managed all right, and you will as well.'

  Her sister lies down on her back with her head just hanging off the bed, next to where Addie is sitting. The smell of fresh coconut fills the air and Addie's heart tightens – they don't use the same shampoo anymore because the local brand doesn't reach Atlanta, but the scent of her sister and mother's hair will always smell like home to her.

  'Hey,' Addie says, softly, and places a hand on Liyah's shoulder. 'Talk to me.'

  'I think I want to live a little more.'

  'Yeah?'

  'Yeah.' Liyah shifts around so she's on her stomach now and when she looks at Addie, tehre's tears welling up in her eyes. 'I don't want to be all wrapped up in studying and education and jobs and then realise like, five or ten years down the line, that I never got to just live my life.'

  'Like me, you mean.'

  She's going to deny it, Addie can see it, so she tells her it's okay. And Liyah sighs and pouts, shaking her head a little. 'You've got a great life, Addie. But you're always so stressed, so wrapped up in your thing, so tired... I just... I don't know. I'm not sure that's for me.'

  Addie smiles. 'I'm not sure that's for me either, Lee.'

  'Really? I never—Really?'