Page 102 of Rinkmates

It’s hard to wait but I have to.

It’s her story to tell.

“Can you give me my phone?” I say, trying to hide my disappointment.

“Sure.” She leans over, and that scar is all I can see.

Questions over questions over questions swarm in my mind.

I just hope no one hurt her. Maybe she’s not telling me because she knows I’ll kill anyone who did hurt her.

“Riles!” My little sister’s high-pitched voice blasts out of my phone.

I put her on Speaker so that Liora can get a taste of what she’ll have to handle in a few days. I have never introduced a girl to my parents before. The idea of someone discovering their true nature has always terrified me. Being in their presence was nerve-wracking enough, but just the mere idea ofher accompanying me, knowing that there’s something worth loving, somehow makes facing my parents less daunting.

I roll my eyes and Liora plays with my hair, the way it soothes me. In this regard, I’m like a dog. Easily pleased.

“Rosalie,” I grunt back. “What do you want?”

“Riley Richard Huntington. Are you purposely trying to avoid your favorite sibling? And what kind of question is that?What do I want?”She mimics my every word like a cartoon character on steroids. “Is it so hard to believe that I just want to hear your beautiful voice and make sure you’re still alive?” she huffs, feigning offense.

“You’re my only sibling, and yes, you never call unless you need something.”

“Riley, has anyone ever told you that your communication skills are severely lacking? Perhaps next time, try something along the lines of: ‘Well, well, well, if it isn’t the nicest sister in all the land. How has your dancing been going, dearest Rosalie?’”

Liora stifles a giggle, and I’m on the verge of chucking my phone out the window. What did my therapist say?In stressful situations, breathe.So I do. I fucking breathe. And again. Slow and steady until it’s the most aggressive breathing I’ve ever heard. “How’s that dancing of yours coming along, Rosalie?”

“Amazing! Thank you so much for asking. I landed the lead role inSwan Lakeand it’s going to be epic. But, ugh, Julliard is so rigid and uptight. Can’t wait to be done with it,” she complains in typical Rosie fashion. She always finds something to complain about, even when things are going well for her. She can’t help it, it’s a Huntington problem.

When she got accepted into Julliard, I couldn’t believe it. My free-spirited sister, who spent her summers in Europe partying with friends and trying to convert people to veganism and a hippy lifestyle, now spends her days perfecting her ballet moves and rubbing elbows with the elite of New York City.

It just doesn’t seem like her.

But then again, Dad has always tried to mold her into a refined Upper East Side girl. She used to like animals, ride horses, and feed every stray we met on holiday, but that’s not what Dad wants for her life.

He wants her to become New York’s number one ballerina and marry a rich-ass finance guy. She may be Daddy’s girl on the surface, but I know there’s a wild spirit underneath all that ballet and high society bullshit. The only time I see her truly happy and carefree is when she’s on the beach in Malta, with her hair tousled and surrounded by a sea of hippies. I can only hope one day she breaks free from the chains that are holding her back. Just like I did, but it comes with a price.

You’re practically excluded from the family once you say no to Dad. And Rosalie is not ready for that just yet.

“But there may be one teeny tiny thingy,” she says, and I sigh. Typical.

“What, Rosie? What teeny tiny thingy?”

“Can you take me home when you head to that gala? I have class until late and Dad wants me to show up early, but I can’t make it unless you take me.” I hear her grinning from ear to ear while she orders a vanilla soy latte somewhere.

A three-hour ride with my sister?

Poor Jay.

He’s got to sit with her in the back, and she can be such a pain in the ass.

“Wait a minute.”

She keeps on talking, but I put her on Mute, look up to Liora, and ask, “Is it okay if we take my sister to the Hamptons?”

“Sure, why would you even ask?”

“Because I hoped you’d say no.”

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