Page 43 of The Arrangement

“Yeah, no problem!” came her muffled reply from behind the bathroom door. I pulled my sweatpants on, feeling like all I wanted now was a long nap for how relaxed my muscles felt.

I was still putting away my equipment into the array of drawers next to my desk when a knock sounded at my front door.

I froze. The water in the bathroom turned off as Clark peeked around the corner with her hair in a half-formed ponytail as she looked at me with wide eyes.

“Are you expecting someone?” she whisper-hissed as she smoothed her hair down quickly.

I shook my head. “No, obviously not!”

“Maybe they’ll just leave!” Clark replied, scrambling to find her shoes while I racked my brain as to why anyone would be at my door at six in the evening. And it hit me all at once.

Fuck.

“Your car’s outside Seb, open the door, it’s cold!” the voice behind the door exclaimed, and I ran my hand through my hair in agitation. Clark, finally finding her shoes and lacing them, looked up at me in an expression that could only be construed as judgmental.

“Do you have a date?” she hissed at me, and when she stood I couldn’t quite read the expression that flitted across her face.

I rolled my eyes in response. “Of course not, just stay here!” I instructed, looking at my bedroom window for a moment before shaking my head. I wasn’t going to make Georgia climb through my window—that would be insane.

Right?

Yes. And rude.

Another series of knocks rang out, louder this time. “Sebastian Wolfe Quinn!”

I rolled my eyes again. “I’m coming, Jesus Christ, Maria!” I called and shut my bedroom door, leaving a bewildered Clark standing there with a deer-in-the-headlights expression on her face.

Honestly, I had no idea how I was going to spin this. Of course, Clark could just stay in there until we left and head to her apartment.

It wasn’t until I had already opened the door to let my sister inside that I realized Georgia Clark’s stupid fucking tote bag was on my kitchen table.

“Finally!” Maria exclaimed, her rich brown coat wrapped around her tightly as she pushed her way inside as soon as I unlocked the chain. My little sister looked me up and down with an annoyed expression. “You forgot didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t forget!” I stammered out, scratching at the stubble on my chin as I tried not to look as disheveled as I felt. “I just didn’t see the time I guess.”

I moved to the right to hide the tote bag with my body—if Maria was anything, she was observant. She threw up her hands in exasperation, prodding, “Well, go get dressed! I told you we had reservations at seven!”

“Maria, you know how I feel about my birthday.” I was quiet, hoping Clark wouldn’t hear this conversation while stuck in my bedroom. Maria tilted her head, her deep brown eyes appraising me with as much intensity and scrutiny as our mother’s used to. She looked a lot like her. Rich golden skin, deep brown eyes, and black hair that barely brushed the top of her shoulders. Our grandfather had nearly had a heart attack (wishful thinking) when she had come to the weekly family dinner with her waist-length hair shorn into a smart bob. I had hidden my smile behind my napkin as he raged on about femininity or some bullshit. Maria didn’t mind the shouting or his blatant sexism; in fact, I think she cut it not only because she wanted to, but because she knew he would hate it. Our little rebellions.

“Seb, Mom would want you to go out for your birthday.” Her voice was softer now, and I hated how observant and wise she was. I definitely couldn’t say the same when I was her age; I was filled with rage by the time I had turned eighteen but she had turned her loss into her motivation. And by doing what I did, I would make damn sure Maria would be able to do anything she wanted with her life; she wouldn’t be stuck under Charles' thumb if I had anything to say about it.

Maria opened her mouth to say something else when her brow crinkled and she paused. “Why do I smell vanilla perfume?”

Fuck.

I crossed my arms. “It's mine, just bought it. Anyway, if you want to wait in the living room I just got a new television—” I didn’t get to finish my sentence before Maria crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes.

“Bullshit, that's a woman’s perfume.”

I tried my best to look offended, spitting out, “Wow, I didn’t think you would be so judgmental. Scents aren’t gendered Maria, I thought with your education and upbringing?—”

“Oh, cut the shit Sebastian, who’s the girl?” she exclaimed, walking around me too quickly for me to grab Clark’s tote bag from the table. “Oh, I knew it!”

Heaving a sigh, I slumped my shoulders in defeat. “Listen, we’re just friends.” I crinkled my nose. “Or something like friends. Anyway, I didn’t want you to make a big deal out of it.”

Maria’s face lit up. “So where is this…friend or something?” She had an unmistakable look of triumph on her face.

I wasn’t getting out of this. Maybe the universe would cut me some slack and an earthquake could, I don’t know, randomly happen. We have earthquakes on this coast, right? My shoulders sagged and I rolled my eyes, kicking my bedroom door with my foot like a petulant child.

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