Page 11 of Wreckage

And now, on top of it, Amanda was breathing down my neck about when we were announcing our engagement, why I was keeping it a secret, and what my problem was. It was never-fucking-ending.

It didn’t help that she was still hung up on how I’d reacted to those guys at the party. It only added fuel to her fire. My phone buzzed for the hundredth time in the last hour.

Amanda: So, we gonna talk about it?

I stared at the message, my jaw tightening.

Amanda: Or are you gonna pretend you didn’t overreact to those guys talking about Elena?

Amanda: You don’t even like her, Troy. Why did it bother you so much?

Amanda: You’re acting weird about her. Admit it.

I clenched my teeth before exhaling hard. I wasn’t acting weird about Elena. I didn’t like hearing guys talk about her like that.

That was normal. At least, it seemed normal to me. Despite us not having a close relationship or any relationship at all, she was still my stepsister. I wasn’t going just to let a bunch of fucking assholes talk shit about her like that.

Another message popped up before I could answer.

Amanda: And stop ignoring me. We need to talk, Troy. You left this morning and didn’t even tell me goodbye!

I scrubbed my hand over my face and turned off my phone just as the plane was about to take off.

The last thing I needed was more fighting.

Amanda could wait until we landed in California. Maybe she’d be cooled down by then, and we could have a civilized conversation. I very much doubted it, though. Knowing her like I did made me realize I was probably only making shit worse.

I slouched back in my seat, glancing at Adrian sitting beside me, a seat between us. I didn’t need to ask to know he was moody as hell.

He still wasn’t over Elena being late. Not that I expected him to be. He tended to have an issue with punctuality. Being pissed over a few minutes regarding anything always seemed to irritate him. It was worsewhen it involved her. I’d noticed that over the years. I think he sometimes liked her being late, so he could dislike her a little more.

I followed his line of sight, my eyes landing on her. She sat as far from us as possible, which wasn’t all that far. Simply an aisle over. She was ignoring us, though. Not that I cared. That was just how Elena was.

But something about her felt off. She seemed more withdrawn than usual. Maybe it was the stress of nearly missing the flight. Of course, since I knew her fear of heights, I ventured it may be that, too. She always tried to avoid planes. Dad even said she’d tried to take a bus home across the country. He sounded sad when he told me about the conversation, citing that he wished he could help her overcome her fear.

Or maybe it was something else going on with her. Who the hell knew?

I frowned, staring at her for a moment longer before saying, “Elena.”

She didn’t react.

Her earbuds were in, her fingers lightly tapping the cover of whatever book she held.

“Elena,” I said again, louder.

Still nothing.

I glanced at Adrian, who scowled.

“Leave her alone, Troy. Fucking hell, man. She’s probably listening to some classical musical bullshit.”

I ignored him, leaning forward slightly, knowing damn well he was one to listen to classical music bullshit.“Elena.”

This time, she finally looked up and over, her big blue eyes meeting mine. My heart jumped in my chest at the sudden attention.

She pulled out one earbud, her eyes flickering between me and Adrian, her brows knitted. “What?”

It wasn’t an angry, irritated answer. It was more curious, even confused. I guess she had a right to be. Neither Adrian nor I ever bothered to do much with her, especially regarding communication.

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