Page 68 of Own Me

"When she went to the chancellor's office, the person she saw instead was...him."

Both girls look like they're about ready to swoon, and I'm just about ready to kill myself as well.

"I read in one article that your sister says she was close to fainting on her way to the chancellor's office..."

"Yes, that's right."

"But..." The girl who ordered a sundae smiles slyly. "Your sister still ended up passing out, didn't she? But for a whole different reason..."

"Yup." There's really nothing else to say but that, since it's Ynez herself who had shared that naughty little tidbit when she was interviewed by one of New England's most popular lifestyle magazines.

Another group of customers comes in at that moment, and my head starts pounding for real when I hear them whisperhisname between giggles.

I can't take this anymore.

Carlita looks at me in concern when she catches me taking a break in the locker room. "You don't look too good,bella."

"I'm fine—-"

My stepaunt shakes her head. "It is not a sin to admit weakness now and then, Ysa." The older woman insists I go home,immediatamente, and as shameful as it is to admit, I only put up a token protest even as she ushers me out of the door.

I just need some time and space.I repeat the words over and over in my mind in an effort to convince myself that it's the truth, but the pain in my heart simply refuses to fade.

Maybe...maybe I need more than time and space then?

So what about time and space and...and...a tub of truffle-and-sour-cream-flavored fries? And maybe my favorite grape-flavored soda?

I entertain myself with such thoughts as I head down the Esplanade, and it's only when I've paddled to the other end of Charles River, and I'm on my way home that I belatedly notice how people I walk past are giving me second glances.

Huh?

While it's true that Ynez dating Massimo has made me famous by association in recent years, this level of attention seems a little too much, and unease skitters down my spine. Maybe something's happened between them? Could that be it?

The pain gripping my head worsens, and I'm already exhausted by the mere thought of having to readmorestuff about the couple.

Ynez is no longer a child (as so many people have taken pains to remind me), and if she does turn out to be the reason why people arestillgaping at me wherever I go—-

Che sera sera.

I end up absently humming this in my head as I make my way up to our fourth-floor apartment, and all I want at this point is to just sleep and forget the whole world exists. But then I see our front door slightly ajar...and my steps crash to a stop.

Questo non va bene. This is not good.

Ynez had moved out since graduating from college, and with Mama andZioArnoldo not due back from their cruise until tomorrow, it's just been me for over a week now—-and I distinctly remember locking this same door before leaving for work.

Shit, shit, shit.

When you'refamiglia,finding your front door unlocked for no reason isnevera good thing. I'm about to call 911 when I hear a man groan—-and it'snotthe kind of groan that one makes when in pain. Or at least not thebadkind of pain.

Che cosa sta succedendo? What's going on?

My heart starts thudding against my chest as I force myself to tiptoe inside...and the first thing I see is Ynez's best friend, Romana, out cold on the sofa, and coke-snorting junk scattered on the coffee table.

Another groan reaches my ears, but this time I realize it's coming straight from...my bedroom?The door is slightly ajar—-and what I see has me in a daze.

What is it about me and my life that fate seems determined to turn me into a voyeur, but this time of my own sister Ynez...and the man who's holding her legs up in the air while he furiously fucks her on the floor?

Stop. Stop. Stop.

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