Potentially You and Me (Two Truths and a Lie)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: UNCONTROLLABLE VARIABLE

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: UNCONTROLLABLE VARIABLE

The days of winter break roll by faster than the semester ever did. It's almost too easy to forget about the real world when the holidays cast everything in white lights, and my sister and I spend way too much time watching other people live on T.V. It doesn't help that Trent has been promoting the habit by texting me recommendations. He's slowly managed to close the gap through his texts. 

     If you're bored watch this. It's not horror I promise!

     This one was a little scary, but I think you can handle it.

     My dog was in this one. I'm not kidding that dog really looks like mine.

     Then there is the group chat with Stephanie, Savannah, and Megan that makes me feel like I never left.

     Y'all can kiss my ass. Megan talks more through text than she does in real life.

     Only if it has a mistletoe on it. Savannah never passes up the chance to use a winky face.

     The only time Trent didn't mention a movie or television show is when he sent me a picture of a vanilla cake. Not only did he claim to help his mom bake it, but he also captioned it with a I miss my vanilla. All I could bring myself to do is send him a picture of the cookies my sister and I decorated, but my sister caught me smiling again.

     And my sister is the reason my heavy eyelids peel open way earlier than I want them to. I can tell its early morning even though my room is still dark. The two tiny glow in the dark stars on my ceiling burn bright above my bed. Just two stars. One for me and one for my sister. They've been their as long as we've been here.

     "Merry Christmas!" the shout is my only warning before my sister jumps on top of my bed and elbows me in the stomach like she always does.

     Merry Christmas b*tches! Savannah also never shies away from a curse word.

     Merry Christmas!!! Stephanie loves both exclamation points and emojis.

     If Meg says y'all imma laugh Savannah jokes because Megan has yet to respond.

     Megan doesn't mention Christmas. All she types back is: y'all suck

     Suck what? Anything to promote Savannah's dirty mind. It's only when her and Stephanie begin sending a bunch of eggplant emojis that I finally exit out of the conversation.

     It doesn't help when my dad draws similar conclusions about the cookies my sister and I made.

     "It's just a snowman!"

     "Santa won't think so."

****

I slap my sister for the millionth time after she blows a noise maker in my ear—again. She only cackles as she rolls back against the couch cushions. I reach forward and swipe my own noise maker off the coffee table. I push it right up against her ear and mimic what she's been doing to me for hours. I'm going to go into the new year with an earache.

     "Hey, I wanted that one."

     I raise my brows. "They are literally the same thing."

     "No, that one has more."

     Layla and I have a stare down just as the New Year's Rockin' Eve countdown to midnight begins on the television. It's faint because my dad is sleeping down the hall, but it still makes me sigh and extend the wine glass in my hand towards my sister.

     "Fine."

     She grins and bounces her bare feet against the carpet a little in anticipation as we gently swap glasses of sparkling apple cider. My mom's on speaker when there's three seconds left in the year before all three of us whisper-cheer "Happy New Year" together. My sister and I clink glasses while my mom sends kisses through the telephone. She was left working overtime in exchange for getting Christmas Day off, while my dad did the opposite. It's an on and off trade every year while Layla and I are always left on the couch in our pajamas watching the ball drop. It's our own little tradition that involves taking down the wine glasses just once a year before it changes to the next.

     Just when Layla endsthe call with our mom and we flop back down against the couch, my phone lights up. I initially think it's the group chat. But my finger slides across the screen and my feet shuffle into my kitchen when I see it's actually Trent calling.

     "Hello?"

     "Who's this?" someone asks.

     "Who's this?" I bite back.

     There's some mumbling and rustling before it seems like someone else grabs the phone.

     "Why is your contact saved as vanilla? Are you really that sweet?"

     The laughter that follows should prompt me to hang up, but instead I remain just as frozen as my toes are against my kitchen tile.

     "Ooh! Ooh! I got one!" a faint voice says before someone clears their throat. "How big are you're scoops!"

     I flinch, but the laughter ensues.

     "If you're vanilla, why don't we mix together and make a hot fudge sundae?"

     "Yeah! I can give you my spoon!"

     "Oh! And maybe we can do some banana splits!"

     I dig my fist into my stomach wanting nothing more than to throw up every sundae I've ever eaten in my entire life while they continue to snort and snicker like pigs.

     "What the—" it's faint, but it makes all the noise stop.

     The line rustles.

     "Lacie?" Trent's voice is shrill. "Sh*t."

     The three beeps fill my ear as he ends the call. My sister's noisemaker shrieks in my other ear as a text from the group chat floats in.

     Happy New Year hoes!