Page 35 of Merritt and Her Childhood Crush
“Sadie?”
I lean over the edge of the bed, then lose my balance and tumble down on top of my sister, taking the comforter with me.
“Oof! Are your bones made of adamantium?” Sadie groans again and shifts under me.
“Adam—what?!”
“It’s from X-Men,” she says, as though I’m the only idiot in the world who doesn’t follow Marvel. Or DC? Whatever comic book world she’s obsessed with. I never remember. She continues, “Wolverine has—”
“You know what? Don’t worry about it. Don’t care. Why are you here?”
Sadie snakes her arms around me until she’s hugging me from behind, the big spoon to my little spoon. (Despite the fact that I’ve got four inches of height on her.) She smells like cotton candy and coffee. Right now, only one of those two things sounds good.
“Some welcoming committee you are. Remember the surprise I texted you about?”
“Yeah?”
“Surprise! It’s me. I’m the surprise.”
“Oh,” I say, still processing. It’s early. I was asleep dreaming about … something that just slipped out of my head. Sadie is here?Sadie is here!“I mean, oh! Yay!”
“I will choose not to be offended by your disturbing lack of enthusiasm.”
“I’m just tired.”
“It’s two o’clock!”
“What?!”
The latest I ever slept in New York was seven-thirty. Even on weekends. I guess all the restless sleeping finally caught up with me. But sleeping until two in the afternoon?! It’s … appalling.
And kind of amazing.
Sadie squeezes me tighter, holding me in place for another few seconds. Then without warning, she shoves me off and hops to her feet. Her physical affection is like a fickle wind, blowing in hard and then disappearing altogether. Come to think of it—that description works very well for Sadie as a whole.
Sadie holds out one hand. “Come with me if you want to live.”
“Isn’t that a line fromTerminator?”
Rolling her eyes, Sadie waves her hand in front of my face. “Yes. Now come on. Time to get you out of this funk. And you definitely are funky.” She makes a show of sniffing me as I let her pull me to my feet. “Take a shower. Thirty minutes, and we’re going out.”
“Out where?”
“I’ll make the coffee. You need it.”
Sadie smacks me on the butt as I walk into the bathroom, and I throw a roll of toilet paper at her head. But as I close the door and turn on the shower, I find myself smiling for the first time in days.
* * *
I’m showered.Dressed for a night out per Sadie’s specifications. But the very last thing I want to do is go anywhere. What if I run into Hunter? What if I don’t? Despite the sleep, my eyes are puffy, and a crease on my cheek from the pillowcase hasn’t disappeared even after my shower.
But when Sadie says GO, you either go or get out of the way. I might be the most dominant out of the three sisters, but even I will buckle under the sheer force of a determined Sadie.
Which is how I end up at The Round Up, shoving greasy bar food into my face so I don’t drink on an empty stomach. (One wine-addled phone call with Hunter is enough for my lifetime, thank you very much.) This place wasn’t around back when we spent summers here. The beachy restaurant-bar combo is a hallmark of the new, more touristy shift Oakley has gone through. Or—is going through, I guess. It’s not bad though. The scarred wood floors have a light dusting of sand and open patio doors give a view of the beach just outside. “Toes” by Zac Brown Band is playing overhead.
It could be worse. Much worse.
“How’s your sandwich?” Sadie asks, dipping a French fry into her milkshake.
