Page 75 of Lessons in Falling
He’d gotten my sister out of her shell faster than I’d ever seen before.Her judgy looks had been directed exclusively at me, she laughed at his jokes, and she hadn’t yet told him howweirdsomething he’d said had been.
All things I’d been having to deal with for years.
She loves you,I noted casually, a flute of champagne in one hand, the other resting on Caden’s arm.His eyes, previously on Lisa—blonde hair in a high, sleek ponytail, black, tight dress ending just above the floor—disappearing toward the bar in another room.
No.He shook his head.She doesn’t even know me,he reminded, gaze trailing back to her.She’s just so much like—
Alison,I guessed, and he nodded, swallowed thickly.Hopefully, your sister was a little more grateful than mine,I snickered.She loves you so much, she’s completely forgotten about me.The reason she’s here, by the way.
Caden huffed a laugh, and his arm curled around my side before he pressed a kiss on the top of my head.I tend to have that effect on the people close to you, don’t I?he huffed jokingly.
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t deny it.He added, distractedly, placing another kiss against my hair,You still smell like fresh dye.Or the after treatment.Which must’ve been a leftover from yesterday’s last-minute attempt to freshen upthe color.Not every day were you invited to a billionaire’s estate—even if your boyfriend’s best friend was dating said billionaire.
So do you, then,I countered, because we’d thought,if we’re already dyeing my hair, we might as well do his.
Our hair-dyeing fit had resulted in a freshly blond buzzcut at three in morning, when we’d finally been done.My cherry-red hair had already been dry when we’d collapsed into bed, only to be woken up five hours later by our alarm to pick Lisa up from the airport.
I snuck a quick kiss to his lips before turning back, watching my sister hesitantly parting the crowd.I nodded toward the glass in her hand.Hopefully that’s sparkling water?
Which got me the sixth judgy look of the night before she added,Don’t be weird, Valentina.
Of course, I thought, but I couldn’t help but feel good when she decided to lean against the wall beside me regardless.I eyed her carefully, watched her smack her lips in disgust, grimacing as she wiped the champagne taste from her lips.I didn’t comment.
Caden excused himself with an apologetic glance, then hurried over to Dylan and Athalia on the other side of the room, presumably to thank them for letting us stay the night in one of the approximately one-thousand guest rooms.
Alfie’s Summerhouse was nothing compared to this.
Sofas and tables had been moved (to God knows where) and the large entrance, connected with the living room, served as the main space of the entire party.Marble floors, shiny chandeliers, a front of windows overlooking the garden, the pool, the rose bushes.
Dylan and Athalia stood by the glass front, chatting and laughing with her brother, Henry, his arm around a beautiful brunette, curly hair in an updo.The ring on her finger, diamond probably visible all the way from the moon, shimmered in the low light whenever she scratched her neck or tugged a strand of hair behind her ear or generally just gestured.
With everything I’d heard about Henry Pressley, that was probably the point.
Lisa sighed beside me, and the sound immediately drew my gaze to her—usually a sigh meant bored or disappointed or unhappy, and I couldn’t have her be any of those.I was supposed to becoolsister right now.Cool sister who took her to cool parties.Parties that were fun, not boring.
But her eyes flicked across the space, and she didn’t look bored at all.Finally, she said,This is disgusting,as she raised her glass in emphasis.How do you manage to keep it down at all?
It was stupid, I knew that.But this was the first time my sister had asked for advice on anything.The first time she’d voluntarily engaged with me, without necessarily wanting something.I’d always chalked it up to age, puberty, and our not-quite-usual upbringing, and hoped she might grow out of her dislike for me.Maybe I’d been right—and maybe hoping hadn’t been completely… hopeless.
I huffed in amusement.Anni always says…Muss nicht schmecken, muss wirken.Or something like that.I was sure I’d butchered the German pronunciation horribly.Which roughly translates to: Doesn’t have to taste good, it just has to work.Meaning—
As long as you get buzzed, it’s worth it.
Exactly.Just don’t tell anyone I’m giving an underaged girl drinking advice.
She laughed—actually laughed—then held out her pinky for a promise.I was almost too stunned to reciprocate, and probably caught it a second before she would’ve pulled back.
Promise,she snickered, then sighed again.This time, my alarm bells didn’t go off.As furiously, at least.
Lisa’s lips thinned, and despite herself, she took another sip of champagne.She tried to hide her first reaction, which would’ve probably been a disgusted shiver.I wish we’d always been like this,she said after a while.
Although her tone was casual, the rest of her screamed the opposite.She was stiff, absentmindedly played with her earring, took another sip to seem busy.Identical to my telltale signs of nerves and anxiety.Like what?
Close.The clarification shot out of her.Closer, at least.
Seriously?And I couldn’t help the tinge of annoyance in my tone.You’ve been pushing me away since you learned how to push, Lisa.
My sister rolled her eyes, let one hand glide across her sleek hair.Because you never acted like a sister.Because it was always do-your-dishes-this, clean-your-room-that.Have you done your homework?When are you coming home?Have you heard from colleges?
