Chapter 33: The Reese Thing

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Slumping onto my bed, I rest my head back and let my eyelids slip closed. Today was long. Relatively uneventful but stressful and just . . . long.

"You ok," Toria asks as she finally makes it upstairs.

I don't open my eyes to mumble a "sure."

The mattress shifts as Toria plops down by my feet. She starts to shake her leg, shivering the mattress further. Sighing, I begrudgingly lift myself up onto my elbows and look at her through barely open eyelids. Her lips are pursed and her eyebrows are arched, so I know she has something to say.

"Just spill," I grumble.

She crosses her legs, fixing her peasant skirt so it flows effortlessly down her legs and over the side of my bed. Her lips bunch up at the side of her mouth like she's deep in thought.

I sigh again and force myself up all the way. Grabbing my polar bear stuffed animal, I grasp him in my lap. "Well?"

Toria glances at me for a split second before going back to studying her polka dot black and white rug between our beds.

This is one of those times where I wish I had superpowers. I could just read her mind and skip this dance. But, alas, this isn't one of my stories, this is real life. And real life is basically one big dance all the time. The kind of dance where no one wants to be the first out on the floor and the steps are ultimately too confusing to follow.

"Do you wanna hear about my day," I ask, hoping me sharing will ease her into talking next. She shrugs but nods. Leaning back on her hands, she looks at me expectantly. So I recount for her almost everything. I leave off some of the Malcolm stuff since I still haven't told her that I even like him. And that's a whole thing I just don't have the energy for right now.

Toria seems to loosen up a bit by the end. "Not bad," she says in a voice that tells me she's not exactly giving me her full-attention. "Not great that they high jacked the dance—"

I put up my hands and shake my head. "Trust me, it was the smart move to concede. Carissa seemed threatened like I was headed for her throat and throne."

My sister squints at me and tilts her head to the side. "Her what?"

I chuckle. "Uh, nothing. Anyway, the point is: formal isn't so bad. And they're on board, which is what we want, right?"

Toria, still squinting, shrugs in lieu of a response.

"So," I say as nonchalantly as possible.

"So I have something to tell you."

"No, duh" is what I want to say, but I keep my mouth shut and simply wait.

Sweeping her ashy brown hair away from her forehead, she nods once as if she's still trying to convince herself. Her fingers fiddle with the front of her blouse. I haul my book bag off the floor between our beds, taking out my chemistry textbook before setting it back down.

"I broke up with Derek," Toria blurts like word-vomit.

I gape at her wide-eyed. Now that I did not expect. I mean, I don't know what I expected, but it was nowhere near that.

"Umm," I manage after a few moments of staring. "Oh—ok." Studying the two smiling teenagers on the cover of my chemistry textbook, I try to figure out what to say. It's not like I expected them to get married or something, it's just they were so happy like five seconds ago. I shake my head, "What, uh, what happened?"

Toria sighs. "It's, well, we're so far apart, right?" I nod. "And that doesn't make for the best relationship."

"Makes sense," I say cautiously. Scooting closer to her, I put my hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, sis."

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