Page 1 of Only You and Me

PROLOGUE

Ten Years Earlier

TRINA

I hate people. Okay, notpeople,but large gatherings of them. Especially when I don’t know most of them. I’m sort of an introvert—in social settings, anyway. That’s why I’m standing off to the side on this hot June day, observing all the laughing, smiling partygoers instead of joining them. No one notices that I’ve drifted away from the crowd; They’re here to celebrate my younger sister, Emily, and her best friend, Shayna Donley.

Emily and Shayna are officially high school graduates. Shayna’s parents, Rose and John, are graciously hosting a graduation party for the girls today, while my parents are off gallivanting somewhere on a luxury cruise. When Mrs. Donley approached me about wanting to make it a party for both girls, she practically insisted, saying she wouldn’t have it any other way.

My vision blurs as tears of gratitude for the Donley’s kindness fill my eyes and I will them away. I never could have given Emily a party as nice as this one, and asking our parents for money to help wasn’t an option. Not that they don’t have plenty of it, it just comes attached to too many stipulations and their own special form of emotional blackmail.

I work as many hours as I’m able between my required classroom and field experience hours for paramedic school. I’ve finally saved enough for the small apartment I just rented. Now that Emily has graduated and will go off to college, I’ve moved out of our parents’ home.

God, have I ever been itching to get out of there. Instead, I stayed, since there was no way I was going to leave Emily to fend for herself in that house for her last few years of high school. Emily is an extrovert, a true social butterfly who thrives around other people. The idea of leaving her alone with my parents—who are almost never home and even when they are, they’re emotionally absent—was unpalatable. So, I’ve stayed four years longer than I had to in order to make sure she got through her high school years unscathed.

I smile to myself thinking of how many times someone—usually me or the Donley twins, Jack and Ben—had to rescue Emily and Shayna from some trouble they accidentally found themselves in the middle of. They’re both good kids, so they never intended to do bad things, but sometimes their naivety and matching extroverted personalities landed them in situations they couldn’t find their way out of.

Me, I like people well enough, but I don’t have the time or energy right now to focus on a social life. Truthfully, if given the choice, I prefer small gatherings and keep the circle of individuals I trust tight. It’s easier to avoid disappointment that way.

As I glance around, my eye catches Rose and John walking around chatting with the partygoers. A pang of longing and a wave of sadness washes over me as I think about how close they are with their kids and wishing Emily and I had that with our parents. We didn’t though, and never will.

When I was in my early teenage years, I finally figured out that no matter how much I tried to spend time with my parents, tried to connect with them, they saw Emily and me as little more than obligations. Did they take care of us financially? Sure. We had nice clothes, they paid our school fees, and live-in nannies attended to our daily needs while Mom and Dad lived their best lives.

Dad worked a lot and Mom spent her days away from home, doing whatever it was she and her rich friends did. Vacations? Oh, yes, there were lots of vacations. But my parents took them alone most of the time, leaving us at home with the nannies.

When I was fourteen and Emily was ten, they had their travel agent plan a trip to Disney. Emily and I were over the moon excited for our first family vacation. At least until they told us they were sending the nannies with us, and they were going to a resort for their vacation. It devastated Emily when she found out our parents wouldn’t be there. The memories are still so vivid in my mind even today, eight years later.God, I’m twenty-two-years old. Why can’t I forget this?

Like they often do, a memory from the past forces it’s way to the forefront of my mind.

My hands tremble as I knock on the open door of Mom and Dad’s sitting room. Emily and I aren’t allowed in here with them, so I might get in trouble for even knocking. It’s their space. Dad glances over at me, a glass of amber liquid with some ice in it gripped in his hand while Mom, reclining on the couch with her feet on Dad’s lap and sipping wine, doesn’t even look up.

“Yes, Trina? What is it? Is there an emergency?” Dad’s voice is deep, firm.

“N-no, sir. I’m sorry. I’m aware I’m only supposed to bother you when you’re in here if there’s an emergency. But this is important. May I come in?”

He doesn’t answer but waves me in with his hand and so I step into the room and gingerly approach them. I stand a few feet from where they’re sitting on the couch, my hands folded in front of me.

I clear my throat and address my father. Mom still hasn’t acknowledged I’m here.

“Emily and I are really grateful for the trip to Disney. But we were wondering if maybe you and Mom could take us instead of the nanny. If… if it could be a family trip.”

Mom slides her feet off Dad and sits upright, pinning her angry gaze on me.

“I’m sorry, Trina. That’s not possible. Your father and I have already made plans for the resort. And all that walking around the park, waiting while you’re on rides, it wouldn’t be enjoyable for us.”

“But, Mom, Emily is so excited. Imagine getting to see her face light up as she takes in everything. She really wants you there.”

Dad sets his glass firmly on the coffee table, drawing my eyes back to him.

“Trina, you’re being dramatic again. We talked about this. Your mother and I need time away together.”

“B-but what about spending time with me and Emily?” My voice is a whisper.

“Stop making this a big deal!” my mother snaps. “Do you really think you have it so hard? A trip to Disney would thrill most other children. Do you want us to cancel the trip, and you can stay here?”

I stare down at the ground. “No, ma’am. I’m sorry. Thank you for the trip. I’m sorry I bothered you about this. May I be dismissed?” I lift my gaze to look at my father again.

“Go,” he says.

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