Page 86 of First Impressions of You

We move to the couch in the living room. She tells me everything, and I feel my blood quickly starting to boil.

“I’m going to kill him,” I grumble. I try not to focus on the fact that I could’ve warned her. What happened to Olivia is not my fault, I repeat mentally until I half believe it. Which is enough for now.

“I appreciate the intent, but I’d rather you not get arrested or deported,” Olivia jokes.

“I don’t care,” I blurt out, but both Julia and Olivia give me the most loaded side-eye. “He got you expelled.”

Why are they not angry too? Why are they so calm about this?

“Not yet,” Julia reminds me.

“Eh.” Olivia cocks her head. “I’ve basically got one foot out the door anyway.”

As much as I try to convince myself none of this is my fault, I can’t fully believe it. It dawns on me that if I hadn’t resented my little sister for so long, I could’ve paid more attention to her.

I had no idea she was still in touch with Graham.

Graham, who did to her the same thing he did to Winter all those years ago. If only I had been closer to my sister. If only I had told her that he wasn’t someone she could trust. Then maybe she wouldn’t be in this situation.

When Graham stole Winter’s script, it took a long time for Winter to get everything straight. Olivia doesn’t have all this time. Being caught plagiarizing is punishable by expulsion. If she gets expelled from school, her visa is suspended, and she has to go back to Brazil.

Seeing my little sister so heartbroken breaks my heart. I could’ve warned her. Maybe if I had, this could’ve been the great moment in her academic career it should’ve been instead of the stressful situation it became.

Having a renowned producer giving students feedback on their material is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, even at such a prestigious school like the Elysian Fine Arts Institute. No one expects the producer to call you and the professor aside to say they’ve read that script before.

“It’s okay,” Olivia says, but her voice is coated in defeat. Her face contorted in a sulk. “I shouldn’t have given him the script. At least, not before I turned it in anyways.”

“Wait.” I raise my index finger in the air. “How did you send it to him?”

“WhatsApp,” she answers, giving me a confused look.

“Okay, so we take your phone to the dean. We show him you sent it before he registered the script in his name.”

This will work. I know it will. There’s no way Graham can say this script is his if Olivia can prove she sent it to him first. Unless…

“Did you talk to him about the script before sending it over?”

Olivia’s eyes fall to her hands, fidgeting on her lap. “I asked his opinion once or twice.”

Julia meets us on the couch with a new cup of coffee in hand. “Why?” she asks, offering me a sip, which I refuse vehemently.

It’s time to tell them Winter’s story, but if I want to do that, there’s a lot more I need to come clean about.

“Oh my God. I knew it!” By Olivia’s level of excitement about me and Winter being together, you’d never guess her stay in the US is being threatened right now. As soon as I started to recount my last months, my sisters seem to have completely forgotten what’s at stake here.

I feel like a teacher trying to get the students back on track when I attempt to return the conversation back to the pressing matter.

“So, this isn’t the first time Graham’s done this. And he was relentless with Winter. I’m afraid he’ll try the same thing now. He’ll use the help he gave you and spin it to make it look like this is his script.”

“Can we ask Winter to tell his story? If he comes to my defense, maybe the dean will actually listen to me.”

I sigh, knowing it’s not that simple. “When he reached a settlement with Graham, they both signed an NDA that prevents them from talking about it. I don’t know if he can come forward, Liv.”

The way her face falls immediately has my heart shrinking in my chest. I’d do anything to see my little sister happy.

“We’ll figure it out,” I promise her. Olivia’s sitting on the floor, her back to the coffee table, her legs folded in front of her. Her arms are wrapped around her knee, and I pull one of her hands to give it a gentle squeeze. “You’re not alone.”

“Bento sisters are never alone.” Julia smiles, pulling the two of us in for a hug.

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