"As the day is long and the sky is blue, I find myself hopelessly in love with you."
When a fateful stalled elevator brings an intoxicating stranger into the life of Doctor Elliot Kingsley, there is scarce little he can do to stay away from her. Eve...
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"I have something to tell you."
Seated next to me in the pantry, my sister stops her hand, midway to her mouth, which is open, awaiting the incoming Twix. "If it's some new show you're watching, I really don't care," she tells me, putting the Twix in her mouth.
I roll my eyes. "Like I would tell you anything about pop culture unless you ask me about it."
Aubrey, ten years older than me, is twin in some ways and my complete opposite in the others.
For instance, regarding movies and TV shows, she strictly avoids all of them, deeming them mostly a waste of time, unless it's a cute animated movie, while I have probably watched every single one of them under the sun. Twice.
It may also be because she has somewhat of a social life, while I do not.
"Then, what is it?" Aubrey prompts.
I hesitate.
This is the first time that I've ever mentioned a boy to her, other than my random childhood crushes and all the weirdos I endured in university, and I have no idea what to expect.
"Oh, my God," Aubrey puts down her fourth bar of Twix – she is gifted with the talent of eating without gaining weight, yet another point in which we are opposites. Where Aubrey is small, I am not – "Did you find a boyfriend?"
I blink. "What? Why do you think that?"
"That's the only news I can think of that you would precede with 'I have something to tell you'."
I roll my eyes again. "I hate you."
Her eyes widen, excitedly. "You do have a boyfriend!"
"Shhh!"
Audrey looks around like Wile E. Coyote if he finally caught the Road Runner.
"Oh, my God, Chubs. Who?"
I bury my head in my hands and wonder how I'm going to explain to her, as if I hadn't gone over this exact conversation in my head every single night as I lay awake obsessing over it for the past fifteen days.
That's how long it took for my heart to stop thundering at the thought of telling my sister and for my brain to finally decide that I would tell her today – that and the fact that this morning, I wandered out into the garden, plucked a flower and broke off each of its petals and I landed on 'I tell her', instead of 'I tell her not'.
Aubrey nudges me and I let out a prolonged groan in response.
My insides twist with building anxiousness, and I'm sure I'm sweating behind the knees.
"Tell!" she urges, "Is it someone from work?"
"Oh, God, no!" I protest, raising and shaking my head.
