Page 75 of Falling

I know I would.

Anyway, I was texting you because I saw an SUV parked outside your house when I left. Idk. It kinda spooked me, and I don’t know if it was the police surveilling your house or a stalker, so I just got in my Uber.

You thought I was being surveilled or stalked and you’re only just telling me this now?

Wrenny

I was busy. I was already running late for practice.

Did it have a Bob Marley bobblehead in the front?

Wrenny

IDK???

I sigh,ignoring the anxious butterflies that have appeared in my stomach. I grab my phone and make my way down the stairs, peering through the living room blinds and finding exactly what I thought I would.

I drop my head against the front door, groaning when my phone lights up with more texts.

Wrenny

Is everything okay??? Are you a fugitive???

Unfortunately not.

Wrenny

Then who is stalking you??

My sister.

Wrenny

Your sister is stalking you?

It’s a long story. I’ll talk to you later, princess. Don’t worry about it.

I shutmy phone off before she can continue harassing me for answers because I don’t even know how to explain it. Clara is just like this. My overprotective older sister who apparently has been protecting me too much and had kept the biggest secret from me for years.

This is not the first time Clara has turned up at my house and not come in. She’ll park on the street, listen to music in her car for hours, and I’ll watch her contemplate knocking on my door or driving away. Most of the time, she drives away. On the few times she does come in, we both pretend that I didn’t watch her have to convince herself to leave the car.

I don’t know why she does. Why she has to make this so fucking awkward for the both of us. I know our relationship has changed over the last few years, but making a big deal out of it doesn’t help matters. Thisisthe first time she’s done this since she told me about Mom’s affair.

I slip on some shoes, make my way over to the car, and knock on the window. My sister has her curly hair loose to her shoulders, her tanned skin glowing as she expertly eats a taco and drinks a Diet Coke while watching a YouTube video on her phone.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I shout, and she yelps, turning to me.

She swallows what’s in her mouth, her big brown eyes wide as she rolls down the window. “What the fuck happened to your face?”

“Nothing,” I say immediately. She raises an eyebrow. “Just hockey stuff.”

“You’re not on the team.”

“I am on the team, I’m just… taking a break.”

“You're benched.”

“It’s a break.”

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