The Charade
I sat at the kitchen table, alone, rubbing my temples. The blood was pounding against my head, like a bass drum. Unbearable.
My eyes were shut and I replayed what Harry said in my head, even though I would like to forget about it.
Harry loves me. He loves me more than a sister kind of way. Harry love, loves me.
None of this would've happened if I never looked up my biological parents. I wouldn't have found the four death certificates and I wouldn't have gotten in a fight with Harry.
But most of all, Harry wouldn't have told me he loved me.
Thinking about it in deeper thought, I remembered the other night when we all went out for dinner. My mom had mentioned something about how now that we are older, Harry and I might think it's weird being siblings since we are so close in age.
She was talking about this.
What she meant was; now that we are older, we realize that we aren't really related and we may fall for each other.
I never thought about loving Harry like that.
But apparently Harry did.
I thought about it more. And more. And some more. Until I realized that this really isn't that weird or bad.
Harry and I aren't even blood related. He is basically just another teenager. A normal teenage boy that I live with. I'm supposed to look at him as my brother, but that doesn't mean that we really are brother and sister. If anything, we are best friends. And what's wrong with two best friends falling in love for each other? Nothing.
The only irking thing is- Harry and I are legally foster siblings. Therefore, it'd be beyond illegal for us to love each other in a real loving kind of way.
It's unfortunate, actually because the more I think about it the more I start to realize that Harry isn't the only one that feels that way.
Yes, I may have freaked out when he told me he loved me but deep down, I think we both really do love each other that way. Even if it isn't clear as day.
I couldn't believe I was thinking that way. I was thinking that it was okay to love Harry, even though it really isn't.
I can't love him like how I want to in my head and I'd have to tell him that.
My mind trailed off the love path for a moment and I thought about talking to my parents.
At this point, talking to them is a necessity. I cannot wait any longer. I've procrastinated long enough. It's time to be the bigger person and take a step forward.
They're my parents, what could go wrong?
All I have to tell them is the truth. Tell them about the death certificates. Ask about the suspicious car accident.
Getting answers out of them shouldn't be that hard.
Harry stood in front of me, across the table. He looked down at me in my chair.
We both looked at each other differently now. We looked at each other like the people did that were walking together the other day outside. I guess I could finally say that I was happy. I was for once happy to look into someone's eyes. I for once had a purpose.
Smiles formed on both of our faces.
"Mom and dad will be home soon." Harry's smiling face was slowly becoming a straight face. Time to be serious.
I nodded and stood up.
I walked over to the sink, to rinse some dishes off, when I felt hands on my hips.
Harry.
I froze in my tracks, getting a nervous, shaky feeling in my stomach.
As soon as I turned around, Harry planted his lips on mine. A shocking feeling running through my body like an electric shock.
My conscious told me to release and tell Harry that we can't love each other that way, no matter how much we want to. But letting go of this kiss would be like jumping off a bridge; a bad idea.
I felt a connection with Harry. A connection that was indescribable. It was just a good connection.
My hand gripped the curls in the back of his head, pulling on them little bit.
After realizing what I was really doing, I disconnected my lips from Harry's.
I looked down at the ground, ashamed of what I just did.
I just shared a very passionate kiss with my foster brother.
Harry lifted my chin, our eyes meeting. "Skylar, it's okay-," Harry was trying his best to calm me down, but it wasn't working.
"No, Harry. . ." A tear fell from my eye, "this is not okay."
He wrapped my body in his muscular arms and held me tight and close. "Shh, no one has to know."
We heard the garage door open and Harry immediately let me loose out of his bear hug.
I straightened out my shirt and combed my finders through the ends of my hair, shoving chunks of it behind my ear.
Then, the moment we've been waiting for; our parents walked in.
I took one last glance back at Harry.
He smiled.
My mom stood facing me with a confused look on her face. "What's going on?" She asked, setting her grocery bags down on the ground and walking over to me.
She reached out to give me a hug but instead, I grabbed her wrists and led her to a seat at the kitchen table.
Harry did the same when my dad walked in.
"What's going on kids?" A nervous laugh escaped from my dad.
"We have something very important to talk to you guys about." Harry said, pulling a chair out for me.
"Now pay close attention. . ." A smirk forming on my face.
