In Riptides

23 | default protector

R O B

I never wanted a sister.

When my parents told toddler-me I was getting a brother, I practically threw a parade. Then came the ultrasound mix-up, and suddenly I was holding pink balloons and demanding a refund. Apparently I even asked if we could exchange her, like she was some defective toy. But nope, I was stuck with this clingy little shadow who thought I was the center of her universe. And then she grew up. Stopped hanging off me, stopped orbiting me like I was the sun. I loved it. Freedom. Space. I could check in on her from a distance and not feel suffocated.

But now... I'd kind of give anything for her to cling again.

Living with Lia used to mean you felt her in every corner of the house. Piano keys echoing down the hall, the smell of something good cooking in the oven, Rachel's nonstop chatter filling the living room. It was noise and life, and these days, it's silence and shadows. Like living with a ghost you know is there but just can't see. Doors shutting, floorboards creaking.

She's gone before morning and barely there when she is. It's weird how quiet she's been lately, like she's figured out how to disappear even when she's right in front of us.

So yeah, I never wanted a sister. And seventeen years later, it feels like toddler-me finally got his wish.

〰️〰️〰️

"You're shitting me. Blake and Rachel?" I nearly choke on my own laugh. "I thought she hated him."

"So did I," Nate says, shutting his locker. "But I guess all that bickering was just foreplay. Opposites attract, right?"

"Fuck. Apparently." I shake my head, grinning. "Literally couldn't imagine two more different people hooking up."

"Speak of the devil," Nate mutters. He nods past me to Blake trudging down the hall, backpack hanging half off his shoulder. He clocks my face and instantly glares at Nate.

"You said you wouldn't tell anyone," he hisses.

"What, you embarrassed, Blazer?" I shoot back. "Rachel's annoying but you know she's way out of your league."

"Yeah, no shit," he drawls, lowering his voice. "I mean, I always knew, but the second I saw her naked it was like—"

"Stop." I slice a hand through the air. "Don't wanna hear it."

They both raise their eyebrows at me.

"She might as well be my sister." I shrug. "I've heard enough unsolicited details about my actual sister already, thanks."

A beat of silence fills the air, and it's all it takes for me to regret saying that. All it takes to catch Nate's jaw tightening, that flicker in his eyes giving him away.

It's not like it's not true. The amount of stories we've heard about Lia is enough to fill a book and then some. But the topic nudges the pin on the constant grenade sitting between us. The Lia grenade. As hard as it's been for me watching her drift closer to Haley, watching her stop needing me, it's nothing compared to what Nate's been carrying. He's the one who screwed things up, and he knows it. I still get to be her brother no matter what. He doesn't get that safety net. He's out there hoping for a chance she might never give him again, a chance that looks less likely with every passing day.

The change in him has been slow but obvious. When we first started hanging out last summer, Nate was fresh off his breakup with Alex, all gas and no brakes. There was nothing too wild you couldn't talk him into doing just for the hell of it. Then Lia got under his skin and rewired something in him. And when it all fell apart, that rewiring pretty much crashed his circuits.