Amelia Greystone never expected to fall in love. Never. She never expected to constantly check her phone for texts, to feel her heart race every time he smiled, to stay up late in the night to stalk his Facebook. She never expected to write his name...
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Waking up on a Monday was the hardest thing I have ever done. I deserve an award for having done this for nearly 15 years.
"You look absolutely ravishing today, sister dearest," Alex says as I sit down for breakfast.
I glare at him. I know for a fact that this splendid morning, I looked anything but.
"We're identical, you know," I tell him. "You insulting me is basically insulting yourself."
I leave him to ponder on this as I dig around for a spoon. Finding one, I sit down next to him and start to eat from his bowl.
"Hey!" he protests.
"I have amnesia," I joke. "I can't remember where the cereal is."
Alex puts down his spoon. "That's not funny," he says quietly.
I roll my eyes. "It's been 2 years, Alex. I'm over it. So should you be."
"You weren't the only affected in that car accident, Mia. You're my sister and I love you. I may not have been physically hurt, Mia, but, emotionally, I almost died." He grabbed his backpack off the table. "I'll be in the car."
I can count on one hand the times Alex has kissed me on my cheek. I can count on one hand the times Alex has told me he loved me. I can remember all the times he's hugged me. This show of emotion leaves me so stunned that I don't notice Jake enter the kitchen until he's right next to me.
"What's up with Alex?" he asks.
"Nothing," I murmur.
"Kid,"he says. I don't even bother to look up and scowl at him like I usually do. "I know you two fight a lot, but I've never seen him look like that."
His words are my undoing. I can feel the tears pricking at my eyes. Grabbing my backpack, I go after Alex. I find him in the garage, smoking a cigarette. He has never smoked in his life since I made him stop. I grab it out of his hand and stomp my foot on it viciously. Then I wrap my arms around him and I hug him so tightly I could hear the sound of his heartbeat.
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
Everybody in my family had their different ways of dealing with the aftermath of the accident. My mom resorted to drinking. My dad buried himself in work. Jake hooked up with girls, left right and center. At first, girls were Alex's solace too. But then he gave up. Not that there is any shortage of girl available to him. He can't walk along a corridor without girls throwing him sultry looks. He just, kind of, gave up. Besides, he'd tell me and wrap his arms around me, he already has the best girl. And then I'd tell him he's high and he'd agree and say that who the hell would say that I'm the best thing that happened to them unless they are high?
Me, Alex, Lilly, Cameron and the rest of the basketball team were hanging out around our car before school started when the car drove in. It circled the parking lot once and then slid smoothly into an empty space, directly in front of us. The door opened and a guy of about my age stepped out.
I'm a girl of 16, almost 17, with hormones like any other normal teenager. I couldn't help it. I drooled.
The car was black, a Lamborghini Aventador. It was polished to perfection, the sun glinting off its gleaming exterior. I had no doubt that the interior was just as breathtaking. Just the thought of running my hands over those leather covers had me salivating. A Lamborghini wasn't a rare sight at Winterville. It was one of the most expensive private schools in the country. The cheapest car here was probably a BMW 528i. Even my brother drove an Audi R8 V10 Spyder. But this car? It was off the charts.
"Oh. My. God," Lilly breathed next to me, her eyes fixated on the guy.
"I know," I whispered, seemingly agreeing with her, not taking my eyes off the car.
But Alex knew better.
"I don't know whether to be happy that you're not drooling over the guy or worried about the fact that you're drooling over the car," he said. I grin back.
"My birthday is in March," I tell him. "And I am very partial to the color black. And Lamborghinis. Lamborghini Aventadors in particular."
"My birthday is in March too," he replies, his smile matching my own. "And I'm very partial to PlayStations. PS 4, in particular."
I turn back to look at the car. The guy had, by now, disappeared inside the building. Maybe he was new. I wonder if I could convince him to a ride.
