Page 22 of Starting Over with You
I’m so lost in the theme song of my trip and my own brain that I almost miss the two hooligans hanging off the Thistlebrook town sign.
Missy is shaking a bottle of champagne, which explodes everywhere, and Sadie is holding a huge boombox over her head as she pelvic-thrusts like one of those Instagram thirst traps. Laughter bubbles out of me when I see they’re wearing their shirts we made when they were sixteen and I was fourteen. We tie-dyed a few of Sadie’s brother’s white tees then painted them with puff paint, SI on the front. Since neither of them has the body they had when we were younger, Missy’s shirt is basically a crop top, and Sadie’s shoulders are cut out to give her boobs some room to breathe.
They look like Bigfoot’s drunk sisters.
But they’re mine.
I pull over instantly and hop out just as Kelsea Ballerini starts the chorus to “If You Go Down.”
Tears burn my eyes just as a shirt is thrown in my face. Before Ican even pull it off, two sets of arms wrap around me, and I squeeze my eyes shut as I squeeze them both just as tight.
A sob bubbles out of me, and I swear they squeeze me tighter. I feel each of their hands move into mine where the scar of our “blood” sisters’ oath sits, and the peace I was looking for slides into place. I remember when we’d pick at the scabs on our palms just to make sure we scarred. I smile against someone’s face at the memory of how pissed Sadie’s brother would get when he’d find me bleeding. He’d fuss and clean the wound, only for me to pick at it again to make sure that my palm would forever be marked. Or maybe I did it because I loved how dark his hazel-blue eyes would get as he’d scold me. It was only ever me, never Missy or Sadie. He was wildly protective of me.
I always held the guys I dated to his standard. I knew what it felt and looked like to be cared for, and while I had wished it were Dean Moore doing the caring for me, he’d never looked at me as more than a little sister. Stratford always said he thought Dean was in love with me, but he couldn’t have been. I think he felt that he had to watch out for me because of how much Sadie and Missy loved me. I mean, he had a baby with Missy. I was obviously never on his radar.
But that night in the back of the cop car lives rent-free in my head when I’m lonely. When he almost kissed me without the demands of our sisters.
Darlin’.
I pull back to find Missy and Sadie crying just like me. Missy reaches for me first, cupping my face and running her thumbs along my full cheeks. Like me, she has the brightest blue eyes, but her hair is more of a dark brown than almost black like mine. She has a more angular face and a sharper nose that doesn’t tip up at the end like mine. Her lips are fuller, and her face is covered with freckles. Not just along her nose and cheeks like me, but all over her face. She has always hated that my lashes are longer and thicker than hers, while I’ve always been jealous of the natural arch in her brows. My sister has always been beautiful, but there issomething about the laugh lines, and the crinkle of skin around her eyes, that makes her even more stunning.
“There she is,” she mutters, kissing my cheek.
She goes to ask something, but Sadie grabs me next, looking me over like I just got home from war. Which, I guess, in a way, I have—battling for myself in the trenches.
Sadie’s hazel eyes are lighter today, more blue than green, but I know when she gets mad, they’ll be darker. Her wild mane of curly brown hair is up in a crazy topknot, and like Missy, she has the perfect brows. They went to Knoxville to get them microbladed without me. Assholes. Sadie’s cheeks are rosy, and her eyes are misty with tears that haven’t fallen. She used to have really bad acne, so she has deep scarring along her face. When we were younger, you wouldn’t catch her without makeup. But ever since Matt came into her life, she owns who she is, which, to me, is the most beautiful person in the world.
Though, I can’t help but see Dean when I look at her.
They have the same eyes, long lashes, and thick, dark hair.
I wonder how he is.
Sadie squeezes my face, her eyes searching mine. A tear spills over her cheek as her voice breaks a bit. “I am so proud of you.”
Another sob bubbles out of me as I nod. “Me too.”
She kisses me smack-dab on the lips, and I laugh as she hugs me tightly. Missy wraps herself around my side, and once more, our hands join like they did when we were younger. We hug for another few moments before Missy hands over the bottle of champagne to me, and I take a long sip. Cars pass by as I take off my shirt and squeeze into my old SI tee. It’s tight along my boobs and every bit of my stretch marks is showing, but I don’t care.
I’m home.
Missy pulls out a pair of scissors before cutting my jeans to give me cutoffs like theirs. I only laugh as I continue to swig my champagne. We sing along loudly as cars pass and probably wonder what the hell we’re doing. Thankfully, Missy doesn’t cut my jeans too high, and I’m glad I shaved before I came. When she’s happywith her work, she throws everything into the front seat of my car, then takes my hand.
“How didStratfuckreact when you handed him the papers?” Sadie asks as we head to their car. Sadie has a habit of turning people’s names into a joke when she doesn’t like them. I don’t know how she keeps up, but each one makes me chuckle.
I laugh, shaking my head. “Like a total jackass. He had the audacity to ask me to wait a year.”
Sadie’s eyes widen. “He didn’t.”
“He did,” I say and tell them the whole story. They listen intently as Sadie grabs a bag, then locks the door. It isn’t until we’re on the trail that I finish, “He said I made him feel like he was suffocating ’cause I took all the air out of the room. I don’t even understand. I feel like I always made myself small for him.”
Missy shakes her head. “No, he just wanted an excuse to justify his wrongdoing. It’s easier to blame you than take ownership.”
“And so what if you did? That’s the whole point. He liked you because you were wild.” Sadie kicks a rock. “That’s why I love Matt so much. He’s never tried to change me or tell me I’m too much. He loves me for who I am.”
I smile sweetly at her, squeezing her hand. “Matt is goals.”
“Totally,” Missy agrees. “Nyle is great and he does like that I’m a little wild, but I do think his biggest hang-up is Dean and Skyye.”
