XOXO, Rachel Finch

four

I wake up wishing I was still asleep.

The curtains were pushed open, the sunlight blinding me. When I looked to my left to find an empty spot in the bed, I knew my mom was the one who opened them, and probably at the crack of dawn too. Something about the early bird catching the worm, or whatever.

The sunlight was one second away from scarring my vision for good, and no matter how much I tossed and turned and covered my head with the blanket, I knew that the chances of me getting the rest I deserved were truly low. So I get up, set the bed, and walk out of the guest room and into the bathroom.

After a quick face rinse I redo my bun, frowning at the loose hairs that fall out from the time I had side bangs sophomore year. Even though Zac Efron wasn't in this house, I still wanted to look good for myself.

Noticing that I still didn't have a shirt on and not wanting to upset my mom with my partial nudity, I walk back over to the guest room in search of my shirt. It had disappeared, which I knew was also my mom's doing. She couldn't stand something not being placed where it belonged, which was another catastrophic difference between us two.

Luckily, my mom hadn't left the house with my only shirt, since I could hear the faint noise of the tv downstairs as well as the sound of the kitchen sink running. This meant that she was cooking breakfast, which was a good sign for me since recently, there didn't seem to be a time where I wasn't hungry.

I let out a yawn and walk down the stairs, hoping that my mom would just tell me where she placed my shirt and end the conversation there. She thought that sleeping in your bra- much less walking around in it- was basically just labeling yourself as a slut, which I found to be the most entertaining opinion of hers by far.

"Good morning," I announce as I turn the corner, spotting Charlotte first. She was sitting in the middle of the family room with a Barbie doll in one hand and my happy meal toy in another.

"Rachel!" She says in that adorable way of hers, and I turn around to walk into the kitchen before freezing. Someone was in Ellie's kitchen.

Whoever it was hadn't heard me yet, which I took as a sign to get the fuck out now. My heart began to race faster than ever, and I slowly tip toed to the family room in order to grab Charlie and make a run for it. The moment my feet feel the carpeted area my niece was sitting on, the puzzle pieces click together.

It was Charlie's babysitter.

Nice going, dumbass, I encourage myself. Clearly my brain did not feel like working this morning.

"Hi," I say before I can stop myself, and walk into the kitchen. "I'm Rachel, Charlotte's aunt."

You're wearing pajama pants and a sports bra in front of a strange man, I tell myself. Dumbass.

If Ellie trusted him though, then so should I.

The man turns around from the cutting board, and only then do I realize that this wasn't a man.

Holy shit.

"Ryan?"

Noah Wester- yes, you heard me- was standing in front of my face. It didn't take me more than a second to recognize him when he had turned around. He still had the same messy brown hair, the same long eyelashes. The only things different were his height and build.

Before I open my mouth and give a snarky reply, I stop myself. I had already reopened a hate-filled void with Erika Himer- did I really want to reopen another one?

Yes. You do.

"Rachel, actually," I correct him, trying to keep my cool. I was going to be mature about this. After all, this guy was the only ticket to showing the whole town I wasn't a crackhead.