Lies Twist The Way We Think

Chapter 26 - Sisters

"I..." How do you say something like this? How do I start? "We grew up with little money. Avery was young, but I noticed it, of course. Our mother took care of us, but she told me to protect my sisters. Always. On the playground. At school. The last time she told me that was before she died. I suppose it's just rooted in me."

This was more personal than I hoped. But how is there a better answer to a question like that? There is none.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Grayson examines my wall with the pictures and nods, like it makes sense. "You're the eldest. You take care of them."

It's relieving, that he doesn't pity me. Pity isn't the same as empathy. He knows grief too. I want to think that my grief is stronger than his. But grief isn't a competition. He leaves, then, and I'm left wondering what the hell I just witnessed.

C. R. D. - M. L. T.

It's evening when Avery stumbles into my room. I've been spending my time here after leaving Aisha's guest room. She's only staying a couple more days. I miss her already.

Avery's cheeks are flushed, an indicator she's spent a lot of time with Jameson, and she has this look in her eyes that means she probably spent said time doing something incredibly dangerous.

"Do I even want to know what you've been doing?" I ask and she grins, pressing a kiss on my cheek and jumping onto my bed.

Avery looks at me with thoughtful eyes and a mischievous smile. "Probably not," and I nod. "You lied to the press." She immediately gets to the point. "What you told them... it was a lie, wasn't it?"

"Of course it was."

"It's hard to tell with you sometimes," Avery comments. "You're not exactly an open book."

I pause, trying to formulate an answer. My back is turned to her, and I breathe shallowly. Pretending I am not affected by it, I turn around. "You're one to say that, Ave." A laugh escapes my lips, but it's as real as my smile, which in this case is not at all. "I feel like we haven't spoken in ages."

In that same moment, I know it's my fault too. My sister is a living and breathing copy of our mother. I am not, although I wish I was. It hasn't mattered to me before, but now that she's dead it could have been something to hold on to. It's the reason I have trouble looking my sister in the eyes.

"I know the way you look at me," Avery says, her voice no longer unbothered. "I see it every day."

I watch her intently.

"Do you know what thats like," Avery asks. "To look in the mirror and be reminded every day of her? You can't look at me. I can't even look at myself."

I shake my head. "Ave..."

She looks me into the eyes, her gaze stern. "Don't, Milly. I know you. You have such a hard time opening up to me, but that doesn't mean I don't see you. You smell like cigarettes again."

I freeze.

"And you've been calling Dean. I'm not stupid. And you're not the only one who's friends with Hawthornes."

That must've been Xander. That little bitch. But that's not the point. She's right. Softly, I say, "You're right. I should've told you. I'm just trying to figure things out."

We're both sitting on the bed now. Her hand reaches for mine and she pulls me closer. I hug her, my darling girl, and she murmurs, "You don't have to do it alone. You don't have to be the only one who cares about others. Let me be there for you." And she says it desperately, like she's reaching for me in the same way she's reached for my band.

I close my eyes and breathe in the smell of her hair. Avery's right. She is so much like Mum that it hurts. But she's my Avery. "Okay," I murmur.

We stay like this, a mess of arms and legs and hair, until she gets up and yawns. "The press is cruel," she exclaims and I scoff. Changing topics like this is normal. It's human. It's us, and I love her.

"Cruel doesn't do it justice." I try to l forget the articles, but that is hardly possible.

"Well, now the whole world believes you're a self-centered bitch with an ego the size of a mountain," Avery says thoughtfully.

I shrug. "I won't try to prove them wrong."