"You may be his world, but you're the only thing that ever felt like home to me."
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Some people never get second chances. Lilah never thought she'd get one with her brother's best friend.
She's quiet...
I'm beginning to rewrite these chapters that I already have published. Changing them to present tense, fixing the timeline, adjusting the pacing of some of the chapters, etc. Let me know what you think! And if this is your first time reading, enjoy and please favorite! 💛
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"New York," I breathe out, holding back a smile. The words feel almost foreign in my mind as I step onto the sidewalk, tilting my head back to take in the towering skyline stretching far beyond the gray clouds. The air is crisp and cool, brushing against my cheeks, carrying the faint scent of coffee and exhaust fumes.
A part of me still can't believe I'm actually here. It's real now.
After years of daydreaming, months of planning, and weeks of stress, I'm finally in the city and going to the college I've wanted to go to since beginning of junior year, at sixteen years old.
My grip tightens on the strap of my backpack as a slow, nervous exhale escapes my lips. My stomach is knotted with anticipation, a mix of excitement and anxiety twisting together like vines in my chest. It's thrilling, terrifying, and overwhelming all at once.
A shiver runs down my back, and I can't tell if it's from the slight wind or the creeping anxiety of starting at a school where I don't know anyone.
Except for two people.
And thankfully, one of them is already yelling at my brother.
"Hey, are you gonna help me unpack your sister's things, doofus?" Natalie's voice cuts through my thoughts and the city's buzz under the weight of a massive tote bin. The thing probably weighs as much as she does, but knowing Nat, she refuses to let me help.
Kayce snorts, rolling his eyes as he completely ignores Natalie's struggle. His arm reaches out, ruffling my hair in his usual 'welcome to your new home' way before reaching her.
"Move it, ankle biter." He shoulder-checks her lightly, forcing her a step back, though they both know if he really wanted to, she'd be flying three feet in the other direction.
Kayce is 6'3, all muscle, and plays as one of the tight ends for the university football team. He lifts the tote effortlessly, like it weighs nothing, then nods toward the building.
Follow me.
I tighten the filled baby blue backpack slung over my shoulder before jogging to catch up. Sometimes I swear Kayce forgets I'm an entire foot shorter than him and have to double my pace just to keep up.
"You wish I bit you," Natalie scoffs, shifting her grip on a much lighter box. "You'd probably be into it like the typical sack of hormones you are. Does anything else run through that brain of yours, or just football and sex?"
I roll my eyes, biting back a smile.
This is normal for them—bickering, teasing, throwing jabs back and forth like it's their own form of communication. Ever since they met four years ago, it's been nonstop banter. At this point, I'm pretty sure they fight more than Kayce and I do, and he's my brother.