June
He gave me a wedding ring.
Yeah, sure, it wasn't serving as a wedding ring — still, he gave me a wedding ring.
I wasn't one for necklaces and bracelets and stuff. They only got in the way, dangling in your food or getting caught on your coat, and most of the time, the clasps were too tiny for my bad motor skills to handle.
But this ring... I was never going to take it off. It meant I belonged to them, to Sam and Nathan, that we were connected in a way that went further than just friendship. Family? Little sister?
I still couldn't believe Sam's behavior on my birthday. Yeah, it'd been funny to make Charlotte sweat a little, even though I doubted she'd feel threatened by me, a sixteen-year-old, disabled, make-up free girl wearing sneakers, only then... He took it too far.
Charlotte wasn't coming by the house anymore, and the consequence was that Nathan wasn't either. Thanks, Sam. Really great. Exactly what I wanted. I blamed him for it, so I gave him the silent treatment — I suppose I could've gone to my house, but there it was mom giving me the silent treatment. I tried to go to Hayley's as much as possible, only she had a baby brother who seemed to cry continuously, and most of the time, it resulted in a shouting match between her and her mom. Why did everyone I know have a messed-up relationship with their parents?
When I'd showed the ring to my dad, telling him the story behind it, he'd been smiling like a fool, inspecting the stone and saying he'd never seen such a beauty. Mom, on the other hand, had huffed and turned away from me. "Don't mind your mother, querida," he'd said, "she's just tired." But that wasn't it. She'd been tired many times in her life, and always had taken the effort to be cheerful for me. Not anymore. Guess she didn't really like me any longer.
If I were ever going to be a mom, I'd do differently. No yelling. No making my kid feel guilty for wanting to look good or loving certain birthday presents. No being away for long periods at the time. I actually made a note of those points on my phone, in the hope I wouldn't forget.
A few weeks after my birthday, I was staring at Nathan's name on my screen again. He'd been online thrice ever since I started doing it, and none of those times did he send me a message. He wasn't avoiding me; he'd explained very clearly it was Sam he was angry with, not me. Despite that, I'd only seen him twice after that fateful morning, always for a short time — picking up some clean laundry, having a quick meal, just to ask me how I was doing... I hated it, and I also hated the fact that I now knew for sure he chose Charlotte over us.
Which guy in his right mind wouldn't, though?
Lights. Car tires. I looked up so swiftly I almost hurt my neck. The curtains were drawn, preventing me from seeing who was pulling up on the driveway. There was only one option anyway. Sam was home already, sulking in his room. It had to be Nathan.
I couldn't help it; automatically, a smile appeared on my face, and something fluttered in my stomach. I was finally going to see him again, and this time, I had to apologize for Sam profusely and convince him to bring Charlotte here with him again.
Oh. Seemed like I didn't need to: the ticking of heels on the tiles in the hall told me she was already here. Didn't know you could be disappointed and excited at the same time.
She walked into the living room, throwing her head back to get her hair out of the way, like a model in a shampoo ad. The thing with Charlotte was, was that I was pretty sure the move came naturally to her. She probably didn't have any idea what the effect of it was. Her eyes focused on me as if I was a target she had to keep track of. She was wearing a dark blue skirt and an immaculate white blouse, with long pale legs, feet in modest low heels. Wish I had small feet like that.
"June," she said.
"Hi," I said, suddenly really uncomfortable. I grabbed my own hand with the other to keep them from tensing, which might've been a bad idea because now the green of the ring stood out against my paler knuckles.
Her gaze moved to the stone, her face completely empty from any emotion. I had no idea what she was thinking. What was she doing here? "Nathan's studying," she said abruptly, making me jump. Tentatively, she approached me, sitting down beside me on the edge of the couch, like she wanted to make sure she could leave any moment. "Can I see it?"
My fingers wouldn't keep still as I showed her the ring, a million questions running through my mind. "It's not a wedding ring," I blurted out.
She smiled amusedly. "I'm aware of that, thank you." She took my hand, barely touching me, which only made me tenser, and inspected grandma Redstone's prized possession. "It's very old, isn't it?"
"Yeah... I think Nathan said it wouldn't be suitable to be an actual wedding ring."
"Yes, I can see why. The emerald would be difficult to combine." She bit her lip, staring at the ring for a few more seconds before letting go and leaning back in the cushions. She sighed deeply, straightening her skirt. "I'm sorry," she said, turning to me, "for being so melodramatic. I had a short night and..." She didn't finish her sentence, and I was taken by surprise by having to respond sooner than expected.
"I — there's no need to be sorry. Sam was being a jerk. You had every reason to be a drama queen." She had. It might've been a joke; the message was that she wasn't welcome here, and that must've stung. I wouldn't have reacted any other way, had I been in her place.
She didn't respond, looking into nothing, turning around the golden rings on her unscathed fingers. Even now, I couldn't decide if I liked her or not. We were so different from each other.
After a long, uncomfortable silence, she opened her mouth — and closed it again — and opened it again. "I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now," she finally said, avoiding my gaze. "Ever since New Year's, I think. Or perhaps Christmas. Or perhaps before that..." She shook her head, hair flying around her. "It doesn't matter, I suppose. A long time, anyway. Gosh, I'm babbling." She smiled swiftly, dimples in her cheeks. "I meant simply to ask... if you ever... do you ever... have the feeling that Nathan... that he's not telling you something?"
What was she acting all weird about? I wasn't used to her rambling like this. She was always ready and confident; it was one of the things I admired in her. "Sure," I said, shrugging. "He doesn't tell me everything."
"What kind of things doesn't he tell you?"
I frowned. Was she serious right now? She was good at the lawyer-stuff, but this might've been the most useless question I'd ever heard. This conversation was starting to make me uneasy. "How should I know what he doesn't tell me?" I laughed, examining her face. It seemed like she was chewing her tongue. What the hell was going on?
She leaned closer to me, forming a circle with her hands. I caught a whiff of her stifling perfume and almost recoiled, but the earnestness her body radiated made me stay where I was. She swallowed, then took a deep breath. "June, is there something, anything, I should know about?" Her eyes were fixed on mine, almost pleading with me. "I know you and Nathan have a very... special bond. It's just... I want to go for it. I think he's a good man and I think... well..." She blushed, momentarily looking away. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that there's this odd feeling I sometimes get, like he's not really present. And I want to know why, even if... Well, I want to know why."
As I stared at her, my mouth probably hanging open, something was starting to dawn on me. New Year's, she'd mentioned. Only, the fact that she was admitting to me she "wanted to go for it", whatever that meant precisely, was making it hard to breathe, hard to think. After all, the one thing that a girl like her still had to achieve was marriage and babies. A familiar panic was emerging in my stomach, and I grabbed my legs. "Is this because of what Sam did?"
She seemed to contemplate it. "No. It's not. Perhaps a little bit."
I didn't know what to say. My mind was picturing her in a white dress, beautiful and pregnant, and him putting a golden ring on her finger, the right one. It was speeding up my heartbeat, almost painfully.
"June, please, I need to know. Before I get into something that's destined to burn from the beginning, and we all waste our time. I simply ask you the truth, no matter what that may be."
What? What was she asking me? Was she asking me what I thought she was asking me?
"Is there someone else?"
That was the moment I realized. She wasn't talking about me — she wasn't accusing me of anything. She just thought I'd be the one who was the most likely to know.
And her hunch was right.
Lena.
This was all about Lena. He didn't tell her, and she must've noticed his off behavior, especially during New Year's. Why had he kept it from her? The only other girl he had ever loved? Wasn't that something you'd want to share? It was such a big part of him — imagine trying to hide it. No wonder Charlotte felt like he wasn't always present.
"Sorry?" I said, because I didn't know how to answer her question — this was none of my business, it was between them, I had nothing to do with this.
"Is there another girl?"
Is. I doubted this was a normal question to ask your boyfriend's little sister. "Wait... Are you accusing him of cheating?" It was starting to sound like it — if only she knew, that entitled girl, always thinking the world revolved around her...
"I don't want to be. But I have to protect myself." This was the Charlotte I knew. Shoulders back, chest out, chin up. "There have been times, not often, where I'd wake up in the middle of the night to find him gone. Without any explanation. And then in the morning, he'd be there again, acting like nothing was out of the ordinary."
To visit Lena's mural, obviously. I'd gone with him, once or twice, when I'd been awake too. I couldn't understand how she could draw such a horrible conclusion. He wasn't that kind of guy — he wouldn't cheat. Ever.
"You know, don't you?" She almost seemed satisfied, like it was a relief to her he was supposedly cheating on her, and it made me so angry I wanted to strangle her.
She had him — she had this amazing guy, and still, it wasn't good enough for her. Didn't she realize how loyal he was? How caring? How kind? "No," I said, my voice raised. "I actually have no idea what you're talking about. In fact, I think you should stop talking about it right this minute, and never speak of it again unless it's to Nathan himself. You shouldn't be asking his fucking little sister, you should be asking him!"
She pursed her lips, touching the base of her neck. "I suppose you'd think that," she said, as poised as ever, "but when you get older, you'll understand it's not that simple."
I laughed in her face, not believing her words right now. "Nah, I'm pretty sure it really is that simple. Especially when it comes to Nathan. But maybe you'll understand that when you're older."
She nodded slowly. A sneering smile touched her lips, and thousands of swear words were trying to leave my mouth — I clenched my fists to keep them in. "I could get mad at you right now," she said, her hands loosely in her lap, while her eyes were betraying her anger. "I could tell you I've always felt your hostility, no matter how hard you tried to cover it up. But I won't, because I know you mean a lot to Nathan, and I don't want to be the twat driving a wedge between you two." She stood up, and I sniggered — as if! "So I won't say it, and I'll never say it, because sometimes, June, things are better left unsaid." And for the second time in a few weeks, she made her dramatic exit, with sure, steady steps on heels, as if she was emphasizing walking was something she did better than me.
What the hell just happened? I was still laughing, not able to stop or make sense of the situation. I couldn't form any logical thoughts — it'd been too insensible, too random... What had we even been arguing about? Why had she come to me in the first place? What was she thinking, accusing Nathan of cheating? Nathan, of all people, who hadn't even dated until I ordered him to do so.
"Was that Nathan?"
I startled, accidentally poking my own eye. Ouch. That hurt! I started to laugh even louder. "No," I said, to a Sam who was watching me like I was trying to walk on high heels, "it was Charlotte."
"Oh... Then what's so funny?"
I looked up at him, my eye still burning, tears running down my cheeks. "I think we're both ruining your brother's relationship."
At the end of my sentence, I realized what I'd said and what it meant. Abruptly, I stopped laughing.
What if I'd ruined my relationship with Nathan instead?