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Allie doesn't believe the car crash that caused her amnesia was an accident. She knows the truth...
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THE MOMENT THE call disconnects, I act quickly, removing it from my history. "Come in," I say distractedly, my voice loud enough to carry through the door as I swipe to delete the call.
I'm just setting my phone on the nightstand when the door opens, revealing my sister. She sighs heavily, making a beeline for my bed and flopping down onto the empty space, causing the mattress to bounce a little. I raise my eyebrows in quiet surprise, observing her as she stretches her limbs out, a pout on her face. Her brown hair spills onto my comforter beneath her, and she wears a white blouse and pencil skirt, dressed in a scarily similar fashion to Sofia.
"Job hunting is going great, thanks for asking," she mumbles sarcastically.
I crinkle my nose in sympathy. "I'm sorry."
Sitting up, she tucks her hands beneath her thighs. "Will you go out with me? I need to drown my sorrows."
I raise an eyebrow. "Go out where?"
"To dance and have drinks," she explains, before clasping her hands together and batting her eyelashes, sticking out her bottom lip. "Pretty please? You deserve to do something fun."
"I'm underage," I remind her.
She lets out a bark of laughter, waving a hand in dismissal. "As if that's ever stopped you before."
I open my mouth to protest, before realizing she's right. "Touche," I reply, my mouth sliding into a smile.
"Besides," she says, taking my hands into hers, and I can't help but feel a nudge of excitement. "You already look nineteen. What difference does a year make?"
Biting my lip, I will myself to turn down her offer, knowing full well it's the smart thing to do, but the appeal of a night without any worries is too irresistible to pass up. "Well..." I trail off, half-heartedly trying to think of an excuse to say no.
"You're into the idea," she says proudly, nudging my arm. "I can tell."
Standing up from the bed, she pulls me with her, and I stumble to my feet, unable to shake the smile from my face. "Maybe a little," I say sheepishly.
"Yes!" she cheers gleefully, and it's hard not to share her enthusiasm. "Change into something cute!"
Before I have the chance to pretend to protest any further, she skips from the room, presumably heading to her room to change into something appropriate for a night of clubbing. Sighing, I turn to my closet, beginning to scour through it for something to wear. I locate a shimmery black number, and I hold it up to my body, appraising it in the mirror.
In my reflection, I see a trace of real happiness, and I don't recall ever witnessing it before now. It softens my features, making me look less harsh and intimidating, and more like a teenage girl, with regular teenage girl problems.
I throw off my jeans and sweater, and slip into the dress, finding a pair of heels to match, and a necklace. Doing a little twirl as I watch myself again in the mirror, I smile. Audrey enters my room soon after, and her squeal when she catches sight of my outfit is enough to reassure me.
