Deep Unto Deep

Chapter One

Our house is full of paintings. If any other painting had fallen, our lives would have stayed the same.
"I'm gonna kill myself. I don't think I've ever had a more boring summer- I've either walked or ridden every mile of this island, and on top of that I think I've already read every book in the library."
I stare at my sister from the chair Im sprawled in, amusement painting my face as she keeps talking.
"I mean, we should do something fun- something exciting. We haven't done anything remotely interesting, at all, and summer started weeks ago."
"There's no way you've read every book here. I don't think I even have- and I know for a fact I read more than you do."
She presses a hand to her chest in mock shock, dropping her mouth open to emphasize her point.
"Ouch, Alex! I read plenty. I'm well rounded. I read good books, and watch good movies- well, I don't know about the movies part actually, but definitely the book part."
"If good books means smut, then sure. But if you're actually bored, look at the paintings, pretend you're at the Louvre or something. We have prints of half the paintings in that museum anyways. Or paintings that should probably be there-"
"I'm not Octavia, Ali. I don't stare off into the sunset with dreams in my eyes. 'Oh look- that orange! I could paint it! Oh, Alex, isn't it the prettiest thing you've ever seen!' "
She rolls her eyes and falls into a chair across from me. We all know that Olivia doesnt actually mean half the things she says. Octavia is her best friend, the only friend shed ever let spend summer with us here. No matter how close you thought you were to Olivia, Octavia was closer. "They knew each other better than themselves", is what they'd say, if you asked.
"Maybe I will walk around the gallery. At least it'll be something somewhat productive to do with my time."
Octavia walks into the library with an eye roll, walking over to the two of us and finding a seat on the arm of Olivia's chair.
"The gallery paintings aren't any good. The best ones are upstairs here- the ones your mother curated."
I sigh and stand, tucking my hands into my pockets.
"I'm gonna go ask mom whats for dinner. There's people coming over after dinner for dessert and drinks, don't forget-"
Olivia cuts me off before I can continue.
"To celebrate mom going to Italy to save the little baby animals, we know!"
I roll my eyes and leave the library, walking down the hallway into the mezzanine. I smile when I see our mom talking to one of the cooks in the atrium, walking down the stairs to join her.
"How long will you be gone for? Not all summer, right?"
"I'm not sure darling, you'll be alright. You've been old enough to spend the summers alone here for three years. Besides, you've got Octavia here with you, and the whole island to occupy your time."
"I know that, I just feel like we never see you anymore. You're at work and we're at school, and then when we finally don't have school you run off to some job abroad to occupy any time we might have together-"
She looks at me with sympathy in her face, a face that Olivia and I mirror. Dark hair, tan skin, and eyes that were such a dark blue they almost looked black.
"I've spent the last two weeks with you and your sister, Alex. I'm sorry I can't spend more time with you, but I have things I need to do- clinics that need my experience to help get themselves off the ground."
"Sure."
I wasn't sure why I ever tried to convince her to stay. For the last three summers she had every moment of every day filled with something. Ranches in Alberta that needed her to study a new strain of bovine TB. A conference here, a conference there. Every summer, every year, there was something to distract her from remembering the summer years ago when our father passed.
It was sudden, but it wasn't surprising. He had always been reckless. He'd grown up with only and all brothers, spending every waking moment trying to find adrenaline and excitement on this island. Granted, there wasn't much else to do here, so you couldn't blame him and his brothers for hunting for something exciting to do. He always said he never outgrew that pull towards finding new kinds of adrenaline. So when he fell off of James, the wild bay he brought back from a trip to the states, a horse he insisted he could break him himself, and hit his head on the fence railing, we didn't think much of it. He always got himself into situations like this because of the constant tug to seek adrenaline that never stopped pulling at his heart. Our mom stitched the cut on his temple and he went to sleep thinking it was just another story he would tell Olivia and I about over breakfast the next day. But he never got too. He fell asleep, and never woke up again. Slipped into a coma and slowly, but steadily, lost the majority of his brain function. Lost it until our mom had to make the decision to unplug the machines that kept the breath in his lungs and the beat in his heart.
It wasn't her fault, but she was the one that made the decision. She had never, and probably never would, forgive herself for that. So she filled her time with work. And spent less and less time with the same kids who carried his features. The daughter who had the same humor as him. The son who had that same ache and pull towards adrenaline.
"You know what, you and your sister can pick a cocktail for tonight. How about that? I'll let you try them too-"
Like we didn't regularly drink the cocktails she chose for these parties anyways.
"Why not."
I smile a pinched smile, following her into the lounge where the cook she was talking too a minute ago and other staff are setting up for tonight.
"Alright- I already have a couple things picked out- what do you want?"
She smiles, clasping her hands in front of her as the cook watches us, patiently waiting for my answer so he could leave and reiterate it to the kitchen.
"What about dads favorite? What was the drink that he liked?"
"Oh. Well I suppose it's your choice so I cant object, can I?" She pauses for a moment, laughing a sharp and strained laugh before she keeps talking. "A rum and cherry brandy then. Do it in the coupe glasses? That would look nice. Add a cherry martini for Olivia, too, please."
The cook smiles an uncomfortable smile and leaves.
"Ooh, can they do it with those pretty ice cubes that have glitter in them, too?"
Im grateful for Olivia interrupting the tension that fills the space between Mom and I. I regretted asking for the drink that I did as soon as the words left my mouth, I knew what would have happened if I did, and I shouldn't have expected anything other than a tense reaction from her.
"Why not, Olivia! Where's Octavia? Maybe she'd like a drink too, hm? It feels rude to have a special drink for the rest of us and not her."
"Upstairs, taking a shower I think. She was at the stables this morning and wanted to clean up before lunch."
"She doesn't drink, so it'd be kind of redundant to have a cocktail for her when she won't even drink it."
I meet Olivia's gaze who gives me a look thats undoubtedly telling me to shut up. She'd treated our mom like a piece of delicate china ever since the accident. Making any excuse she could for how much our mom left us alone and avoided us. I roll my eyes and sigh, falling onto one of the couches as Olivia starts to ask mom details about the party.

It didn't turn out as boring as I thought it was going to be. Olivia had invited families from school last minute, so the lounge was filled with their parents chatting about our mom's plans in Italy, and the library was filled with their drunk sons and daughters.
"You look bored for someone who said this wasn't as boring of a party as you thought-"
I smile and look up at Octavia from the wall Im leaning against in the mezzanine. Looking down over the library.
"No, I'm plenty entertained watching all of our classmates drinking and hitting on eachother downstairs."
Octavia rolls her eyes, partially at my quip, and partially at where my eyes fall as she makes her way to lean over the railing beside me.
"You're really not acting very subtle right now Alex-"
She turns around to face me, leaning against the railing and smiling a smile that's  oh-so taunting.
"I wasn't trying to be."
Olivia and I had agreed five years ago, when we were thirteen, that Octavia was always off-limits for me. Only her, the rest of her friends were fair game. Which was unfortunate, because the rest of her friends were never the ones I wanted. They had never been. When I made that pact with Olivia I hadn't met Octavia. Didn't know how beautiful she was. How witty. How that in the summer the sun would dapple her face in freckles, paint pieces of her blonde hair lighter. Make her all the more breathtaking than she was the rest of the year.
But tonight, I didn't care how mad it would make Olivia if I broke that pact. If I did the things I'd thought about for five years to Octavia. And just as my thoughts are about to be solidified into reality, a crash from nearby makes me snap out of my delusions, fantasies, if you will.
"Shit. This is exactly why I told Olivia we should have had the staff put away anything valuable-"
I pinch the bridge of my nose, walking away from Octavia and towards the sound, rolling my eyes at the couple who look up at me apologetically from the broken painting on the floor.
"It's fine- it's just a painting. Go back downstairs- didn't Olivia tell people they weren't allowed up here?"
I keep grumbling to myself after they stumble down the stairs nearby, already back to tangling themselves together as I pick up the broken pieces of the frame.
"Aw, I liked that one. It's Theseus and Ariadne, from the myth?"
She picks up the canvas from the ground and holds it up in front of herself, running her thumb over the edge.
"What's on the back?"
"Huh?"
She turns the canvas around as I come to stand beside her, both of us looking at the scrawled writing on the back of the canvas.
"I've never seen the back before- I've heard of artists leaving notes on the back though. Wonder why nobody thought to note this was here before framing it."
"What language is it in? It looks like Italian, Spanish, maybe?"
"It's Latin, dumbass. I thought you and your sister had the 'best education money could pay for'?"
She grins and rolls up the canvas, setting it on the edge of a nearby bookshelf before setting her hands on her hips, cocking her head at me.
"Yeah, I refused to take Latin- Olivia took it though. We can show it to her tomorrow, but it's summer, I'd rather not think about anything related to school over break."
"Fair point."
I watch her for a moment longer before sighing and turning to look at the stairs that wind down towards the party.
"Olivia is gonna be pissed if I don't show my face all night."
"Yeah, probably. I'll go with you."
She smiles and starts down the stairs in front of me, diving back into the music and claustrophobia that these parties are always full of.