Sisters [book one]

Chapter One

Dedicated to @BeautifullyImperfect because she gave me the info about Olive Garden Restaurant (because I don't live in the US) and I promised I would dedicate the first chapter to her.

Chapter One

Christmas Eve

I peak through the curtains as Dad's Honda pulls into the driveway. It rumbles to a stop and the passenger door swings open. Michele climbs out, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. I squeal and sprint down the stairs, beating Mom to the front door.

"Don't go outside without any shoes on!" Mom says, just before I leap onto the front path to meet Michele halfway.

I settle for standing on the doorstep. "Michele," I screech.

"Haley!" Michele says. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a bun; there are dark circles under her eyes. She lugs her suitcase across the lawn, her deep tan abormal against the frost-ridden backdrop.

When she reaches the door, we heave her suitcase inside. It lands in the hallway with a thump. Michele's hands now free, she envelops me in a hug.

I lose air under her grip but I don't dare pull away. "I've missed you so much," I say. I inhale her familiar scent of Moroccan Oil and the Elie Saab perfume I bought her last year.

"Five months is too long."

"I know, I have so much to tell you," Michele says.

"How many photos did you take?"

"Thousands!"

Dad carries the rest of Michele's bags from the car and closes the front door behind him.

"My baby," Mom says, and she hugs Michele too. "My baby, my baby, I've missed you."

"I missed you too, mom."

"Be ready to go out in ten minutes."

Michele's eyes grow wide. "Ten minutes?" she says.

"Your flight didn't get in 'til five o'clock," Mom says with a smile, "I tried to change our reservation but they were fully booked."

Michele's shoulders slump and she sighs. She turns on her heel and stomps up the stairs. I trail behind her, questions bubbling at my lips, about to explode like her suitcases.

"Give her space, Haley, she's had a long flight," Dad says.

"Dad," I whine. Michele shoos him out the bedroom. He's already had a whole forty-five minutes with my sister on the way back from the airport. Now it's my turn.

Michele slams the door shut and manages to lift her suitcase onto the bed. She unzips it, revealing its strewn and messy contents. I see a wrinkled bikini and a hairdryer with the cord wrapped up in knots, among other things.

I flop onto the duvet. They've been changed since Michele last slept in them so all I can smell is detergent. I prop my head up on my elbow and watch as Michele gathers a bundle of clothes and shoves them into her laundry bag. Looking around her room, I notice it's still a mess from when she left. "So," Michele says with a half-smile. "Did you miss me?"

"Miss you?" I say. "I missed you like crazy."

"I missed you too." Michele grins.

"How was the trip?"

"It was amazing," Michele gushes. "Literally, the sun was amazing, the beaches were heavenly. It was perfect. I'm going to live there when I'm older."

"Can I come?" I say.

"Of course."

I tap my fingers against the flannel pyjamas Mom's laid out for her tonight, knowing she won't have anything clean left to wear. "Did you see any kangaroos?"