Page 16 of The Wrong Sister
How the hell didn’t I notice her before? I mean, she’s hard to miss with her pink hair. How? Oh, wait. She was wearing that stupid beanie on her head and giant clothes ten-sizes too big. The little shit who escaped the hospital before I could talk to her. Before she knew the fire wasn’t her fault.
I felt relaxed and content with my fate before I fell asleep. But she’s just awoken another wave of rage at the board, my father, and her.
She’s frozen on top of me while the plane shakes once again, and her body plasters over mine.
“Crap,” she mumbles, trying to push herself away. It’s useless, and she ends up kneeing me in the balls.
I groan again.
“Oh, man.” She covers her face with her hands, loses balance, and her head falls forward with her stubborn forehead smashing into my nose. She quickly pushes back and looks at me with her dangerously widened eyes. If she opens them a little more, they’ll fall out of her skull. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, biting her lip.
I squeeze the bridge of my nose between my fingers, trying to stop tears from forming. The plane shakes again, and she tries to pull herself away from me. Only to end up with her knee dangerously close to the same part it’s already touched.
I grab her shoulders with both my hands and order, “Don’t fucking move.”
Another rattle of the plane makes her eyes go wide, and she surges forward, burying her face on my chest.
“We’re going to die,” she cries out, her voice muffled.
“We’re not going to die. Butyouwill because I will kill you if you don’t remove your knee from my dick.”
“Oh!” she cries out, trying to scatter away.
At this point, I know it’s useless. We’ve entered some serious turbulence, and the whole plane is rattling so violently even I get an unexpected ping of fear. The dividers between the seats go down with a loud thud throughout the whole area.
“Where’s your seat?”
She points at the next seat while her face is still pressed into me. She’s been next to me this whole time, and I didn’t even know. I assess the situation and see if I can move her somehow to her spot, but I’m buckled up in a horizontal position.
The plane keeps shaking; people are getting anxious and scared. The girl keeps clinging onto me, and I can’t just throw her away to her seat while she’s scared out of her mind. Her fingers are digging into my shoulders while her thighs move to my sides and squeeze me. Hard. Very hard. I didn’t know she had so much power in that body of hers.
“We’re going to die,” she starts mumbling without even realizing it, I think. “And I’ll never adopt a dog. Or a cat.” She sniffles and starts crying. “I’ll never try pineapple-ham pizza. I’ll never get to say sorry to my sister.” She presses her nose into my chest. “I’ll never even know what a not-self-induced orgasm is. Or how the Wi-Fi really works.” Her words nearly disappear into the crying.
That’s some list over there. I would laugh at it if not for the self-induced orgasm part.How old is she?I try to actually look at her, but she’s firmly pressed into me while mumbling the things she’ll never be able to do. The things she wants to try. The places to see. While my mind is fixed on the damn orgasms.Not even once?
In the meantime, the captain is making an announcementabout some ‘possible rough air.’ No shit. The air is rough. Things are flying around. People are crying. The girl keeps clutching to me.
And during all this fucking chaos, the only thing I can think about is her nonexistent orgasms.
9
Maeve
“Hey,” a gruff voice calls out. “Hey, it’s fine now.”
I pull my head away from the white shirt and look up. The shaking has subsided, and order seems to be restored. Flight attendants are quickly moving around, asking if everyone is okay.
I am not okay. Pretty shaken after the worst turbulence I’ve experienced in my entire life—and I’ve flown a lot with my parents before—and I can’t find any energy to stand up. Or more like crawl away from the douchebag who turned out to beall rightin a moment of crisis.
I am also not okay because I know I mumble when nervous. It happens like a blackout where I don’t remember what I was talking about afterward. And this is always scary. Which family secrets did I spill this time?
“Mae?” he calls again, his voice sounding a bit worried.I’m sure he said ‘hey,’ but my mind has probably changed it to ‘Mae,’because he sure doesn’t know my name.
I hide my face into his chest because I’m already here. “Mmm?”
“Are you alive?” He’s calm. Even. Not even slightly bothered by the scare we all just went through.
“I am,” I muffle into his shirt, touched by his considerate question. Why does he have to smell so good?
