Page 84 of Who I Really Am

My stomach sinks into the cushions with the rest of me. “Rachel…”

“Don’t look at me like that, Marco. We’re not having sex. I’m just saying, if we do, I won’t let that happen.”

She gives with one hand, takes away with the other. “Sometimes it happens anyway.”

“Then I’d deal with it. There are ways, you know.”

The little snot. Thinks she knows so much. But my heart twists at her words. Mom dragged all of us to mass every Sunday of our lives, so I’m surprised my baby sister would consider this. The thought makes my chest ache, but I don’t take the bait. It either isn’t the right time or I can’t go there in my own head.

Obvious pitfalls aside, I don’t want my little sister having sex when she’s still a kid. Maybe ever, but that part may be a me-problem. Still, I know something about the collateral damage of casual intimacy. I had my heart broken a time or two when I was her age—then got smart and did the heartbreaking myself. Neither is an experience I want for my little sister.

Sleeping—hopefully—in the room a few feet from us is an object lesson in heartbreak. I’d like to take Rachel’s ponytail and jiggle some sense into her brain.Look. See? See what can happen when you take it too lightly?

Not gonna do that, though. Annalise’s story is not mine to tell. Further, she is far, far more than either a quick hookup or a cautionary tale.

“You need to get a grip, Marco. I know what I’m doing. Besides, Tanner loves me. He would stick by me.”

I barely contain the gulping gag that consumes my throat, because I know better. Tanner is a walking hormone factory. He doesn’t know love from a yucca plant. Worse, I’ve seen his house. There aren’t many rich kids in this neck of the desert, but he’s one of them. Daddy is some hotshot in the oil industry, doing his time in purgatory until they move him back to civilization. A small-town trailer park filly is not who they’re looking for for their precious son.

One year from now, that kid is going to be in the frat house doing shots on mommy and daddy’s dime with his score of the week under his arm. Frankly, if Rachel is telling me true, I’m shocked as heck that he hasn’t already pushed their relationship to scorestatus.

“Sooo, back toyourlove life. How long have y’all been dating?” Nose wrinkling, Rachel glances toward the closed bedroom.

“Uh, we’re not dating.”

She flaps her hand at me. “Well, whatever it is you call it.”

“Not that either,” I growl. The girl has a smart mouth.

“The only reason I might believe you is that she’s in there and you’re here. But you’re still a hypocrite.”

“You’re sure throwing that word around tonight.”

“I’m not a moron, you know. Don’t think for one minute I believe you’resaving yourself.”

My mouth hinges open but gets stuck. Boy, air quotes are annoying.

She bobbles her head smugly. “See. You can’t deny it.”

“That’s different.” But aren’t my words about as lame as they come? “I’m an adult.”

“Which has nothing to do with why you and I were taught we should wait. Am I right?”

The right words, any words, fail me. No worries though, because Rachel’s got more on her mind.

“Anyway, I’m glad there’s nothing going on between you two.”

“And why is that?” I’m surprised because my family drops not-so-subtle hints all the time about me hurrying up and settling down. Offended a little, too, on Annalise’s behalf. She’s awesome.

Smug as before, Rachel tosses a shoulder. “She’s not your type.”

She’s exactly my type.My insides buckle at the thought. No, not a thought, but a realization.

“I mean, she’s pretty and all, but you need someone fun. She’s too quiet. Kind ofblah,you know what I mean?”

No, no I don’t. I squeeze her toes, which I did indeed start rubbing somewhere along the way, and crumple them into a bunch. “She’s been sick, doofus.”

“With what?”

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