Page 13 of Sins and Secrets

Angie checks her watch and taps on it. “Waverly’s got it all under control.”

I stare at Waverly, who’s picking up her purse. “You’re planning this whole wedding, aren’t you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Waverly says, nodding in the direction of the kitchen. “Enjoy the cookies.”

As they head out, it hits me. “Wait, if you haven't looked at the tattoo, how are you taking care of it?”

“Adam's doing it,” she says as she shuts the door behind her.

Leaving me slack-jawed, standing in my home, with the same old resentment to keep me company. How little things have changed.

ChapterSix

13 YEARSAGO

Lukas

After ten summers in my mother’s house, I should be used to the side-eyes the family gives me. Adam stole my iPad charger again, so I’m trapped in the living room using the slow one that overheats. I hate being out in the open like this where anyone can walk by and verbally assault me. Two more summers and then I’m done. I’ve served my time.

Mom and Angie walk through the space on their way to the front door. “We’ve got a dentist appointment today, don’t forget to preheat the oven at four,” Mom says. It’s the tenth time she’s reminded me, and there are sticky notes all over the house. She adjusts her purse on her shoulder and glances at her phone. “Waverly, what time are you getting picked up?”

She leans in the doorway. “One of my cousins should be here in twenty minutes.”

Mom frowns, and I can’t tell if it's because Waverly will be here without her and Angie, or alone with me. Or maybe she doesn’t like the idea of a strange man coming by the house. Either way, she gives the same flash of disapproval whenever I’m around. I know it’s me. I’ve seen the family photos, the ones I’m not in. Mom’s so fucking happy in them.

“Um, okay.” She pushes her hair out her eyes with her wrist and sighs. “Don’t forget to lock the door.”

Waverly and I share glances, neither of us sure who Mom was reminding.

Angie grabs my hoodie from the hook. “It’s always cold there.”

Awesome, I’ve lost that too now. My bags are always lighter on the flight home.

The front door slams and it’s only Waverly. She’s wearing a little sundress and I can’t tell if she’s too old or too young for it. It’s tight and low cut like it fit her last year. Her shoulders are pink from the sun.

“What are you drawing?”

I try to give off my leave me alone vibe- avoiding eye contact, ever present frown. Everyone else picks up on it, why can’t she? She approaches and I get a hint of oranges and vanilla.

Wolverine’s claws aren’t giving the right level of shine and his eyes aren’t right. “It’s only a doodle.” Her shadow casts over the page. Her tiny frame only towers over me when I’m sitting at the kitchen table.

“It’s perfect!” she squeals, and my chest tightens. She points to my journal. “Can I see more?” If it was Angie, the journal would already be out of my hands.

I nod and hand it over to her. She flips through. “You’ve got so many different styles here. Manga and realistic, cartoony and kawaii. What’s your favorite?”

No one’s ever asked me that before. Her wide, green eyes watch me, and my throat fills with spit and becomes dry all at once. I didn’t think it was physically possible. “Um, I don’t have one. It’s whatever my pen wants to make.”

She speaks in a hushed, awed tone. “That’s incredible.” She returns my journal and asks, “Are you going to art school?”

I shrug, “Haven’t given it much thought. Maybe I could manage my dad’s shop.”

Her whole face lights up like I’ve given her ten thousand Christmas gifts at once. “You’re gonna take over the shop? You’ll be amazing!”

The back of my neck starts to sweat. Has anyone been this excited about me? Ever?

She moves in closer to me, my knee touching hers. “I’ve always thought tattoo artists were selfless. You spend hours creating art and you give it away, never to be seen again. And you're a permanent part of a person’s life.”

I don’t know how or when, but my index finger lifts her chin. There’s a second of confusion on her face followed by the bloom of pink across her cheeks.

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