If I Break THE COMPLETE SERIES Bundle (141 page)

I trudge up the stairs and hope that she’s happy to see me. I haven’t seen her since Christmas last year, though she writes me letters. I’ve kind of forgotten to write back after the last couple ones she’s sent. I didn’t even open them. I’m really regretting that now. I ring the doorbell and bounce my weight from one side to the other.

“Coming,” her voice sings from the other side of the door.

It’s a little past seven thirty. I’m really lucky she’s not headed out for school or work. The door opens, and she’s standing there, wearing a white blouse and jeans. Even though it’s early, she looks as though she’s already showered, put on makeup. She looks at me, a little confused.

“You forgot what your sister looks like,” I kid.

“Gwen!” she says, almost knocking me over in a hug.

“You did forget what I look like!”

She steps back and laughs as she pushes my hair off my shoulder. “Well, uh, this is a huge difference.”

I’d forgotten I’d dyed it dark brown since she last saw me. “Yeah, no longer the little strawberry shortcake.”

“Wow, it’s just you look so different,” she says, more amazed by the color of my hair than the fact I’m five hours from home and on her doorstep. I’ll go with it.

“Can I come in?” I say teasingly.

“Of course!” She pulls me by the hand inside the house. It’s beautiful and typical Gia. It’s clean, bright, not too cluttered, everything in its place. “Welcome to my home, little sis.” She closes the door behind me.

“Thanks,” I say, taking off my bag.

“You like it?” She pushes her long dark hair from one shoulder to another.

The house isn’t really my thing, but she knows it of course, and Zach’s words about me being a bitch still ring in my ears. I’ve always thought of myself as honest and maybe a little self-centered, but who should your life be centered on if it’s not yourself?

“It fits you perfectly,” I say with a wide smile.

“Sooo, tell me what you are doing here?” she asks the million-dollar question.

“I wanted to see you. I missed you,” I say, avoiding the real answer for now. It’s not a lie. I have missed my sister. I didn’t realize how much until now. I hug her again.

“I’ve missed you to. You’re the one who hasn’t responded to any of my letters,” she says with a playful nudge.

“I know. I’m bad with stuff like that.”

“You’re in high school. People who say that usually have families or jobs or something substantial going on to make them be so absentminded,” she says.

“Great. My life isn’t substantial,” I say sarcastically.

She rolls her eyes at me with a laugh. “You know what I mean. Come on, you, let me get you something to eat and get the real reason why you’re here out of you.”

I follow her and see I have a choice of Sugar Smacks, Apple Jacks, and Cheerios for breakfast. I feel my face fall.

“Everyone’s not Chef Boyardee,” she says to my expression, and I laugh.

“I’ll cook breakfast tomorrow,” I say, choosing the box of Sugar Smacks.

“Tomorrow? Meaning you’re staying overnight?” Her eyes narrow in on me.

“If that’s okay. You trying to get rid of me already?” I ask playfully.

She folds her arms with a small smirk. “It depends. Is it okay with Mom that you’re here?”

Instead of answering, I pour the Sugar Smacks into the bowl she handed me earlier.

“She doesn’t know you’re here. Of course she wouldn’t know,” she says anxiously.

“Okay, look, I need your help, Gia. She’s trying to send me away to boarding school or something. I’m not sure where, but I can’t be in one of those places. You have to get her to change her mind!” I whine.

Gia throws her head back in frustration. “Why would Mom send you to boarding school?”

I take a deep breath and catch Gia up on everything that’s happened. She looks at me with frustration as she folds her hands at the table and shakes her head, then she laughs.

“So instead of talking to Mom, telling her you’re sorry and that you’re going to clean up your act, you sneak out of the house, while you’re grounded, catch a bus to a different state, while you’re grounded, and think that’s the best way to get her to see that you’re not completely out of control?” she says sarcastically.

I roll my eyes. “You sound like Zach,” I mutter, defeated.

“Who’s Zach?”

“He’s not important,” I tell her with a shrug.

She looks at me knowingly. Ugh, we’re getting off track.

“Look, Mom doesn’t listen to me, Gia. I know she thinks I’m too far-gone. You know how she is, and with Martin in her ear, it would have been a lost cause. You’re my only hope,” I plead.

She sighs and shakes her head. “Gwen, you always jump the gun. You eavesdropped on her phone call, so you don’t know really what the conversation was in regards to. What if it’s something completely different from what you think? Mom hasn’t mentioned sending you to boarding school or some bad girls’ camp.” She says the last part with a chuckle.

“What else would she be talking about when she’s touring a facility for me? An asylum?” I say sarcastically.

“You always jump to the absolute worst conclusion. Mom would have told me if she was thinking of doing something like that.”

“Maybe she forgot to mention it, or she’s so fed up with me that she’s going to call and tell you today.” I grimace.

“You know our mother is far from absentminded, and she would have told me. Mom tells me everything.” She stands, walks over to the phone, and picks it up.

I jump out of my seat and hang up the receiver. “You can’t call her!”

“You ran away while you’re grounded. Mom’s going to wake up and not know where you are,” she says as if it’s obvious.

“Please, Gia! Can we just finish talking first?” I plead. I give her my best puppy-dog eyes, then I spot the humongous ring on her finger. “Gia, is that what I think it is!”

My eyes get wider as I continue to look at it. She glances at it, and a smile spreads across her face and her cheeks light up like Rudolph’s nose. I grab her hand and examine it.

“It’s so pretty!” I say enthusiastically. It’s a beautiful diamond ring and just my ticket to changing the subject. I nudge her. “You little sneak. You’re engaged?”

She takes her hand back and walks into her living room. “It’s not an engagement ring,” she says bashfully.

“Bullshit, it looks like it to me,” I say, flopping onto the sofa beside her.

“Language, Gwen,” she says with a small smile. It disappears, and a wide grin spreads across her face.

“Does Mom know? Why haven’t you said anything? I can’t believe you’re getting married!” I say in disbelief.

“Slow down, sis. First off, again, it’s not an engagement ring. Mom does know that I have it as a promise ring, and maybe you’d have an inkling if you read my letters or picked up the phone and called me,” she says, swatting me playfully.

I instantly feel guilty. “I’m sorry.” I guess I have kind of blocked her out since she’s been gone.

“Mom’s really worried about you.” She sighs.

I roll my eyes.

“She is. She cares, and she thinks you’ve done a personality one-eighty since dad passed away,” she says, her voice full of concern.

“Everything else has changed. Dad’s gone, Mom’s obsessed with Martin, and you’re gone. Sometimes you change who you are to adapt,” I snap.

She scoots closer to me. “I know a lot has changed, but you can’t let it ruin you,” she says solemnly, stroking my now-darkened hair. “Like this, this isn’t you. Hanging out with trash, being rude, shutting yourself off from the people you care about—”

I scoot away from her. “You believe anything Mom says. It’s not like that. My friends aren’t trash. I’m not rude, only honest, and I don’t hang around places I’m not wanted.”

“You can’t believe Mom doesn’t want you,” she says in disbelief.

“I’m sure her and Martin’s lives would be easier if I wasn’t around. He wants this perfect family with a perfect kid, a Stepford child or something. That’s not who I am!” I say angrily.

“Well, I don’t know your side of the story because besides today, I haven’t talked to you in months,” she spits back.

I look down guiltily.

“Look, I know Dad’s loss affected you the most. You were the closest to him out of all of us.” Her voice is softer now. “But living as if he didn’t exist doesn’t help anything. We can honor his memory by living as if he’s still here, by implementing the lessons he’s taught us.”

I have to laugh. Gia and her way with words. Hopefully she can use them to get my trip to boarding school canceled.

“I’ll talk to Mom for you,” she says with a sigh.

My spirits immediately lift. “You will? Oh, thank you, Gia!” I jump on her lap and hug her tightly.

“But you have got to at least work with Mom. I know you’re not Martin’s biggest fan…” she continues as I resume my seat on the sofa.

“I don’t get how you both can pretend that he wasn’t dad’s best friend and Dad would’ve been okay with his wife screwing him,” I say with a laugh.

“It’s not like they were having an affair while dad was alive,” Gia says.

“As far as we know,” I mutter.

“Gwen, really,” she asks angrily. “I can’t believe you’d think Mom would do that. I know you guys have never gotten along, but that’s really low.”

“Just forget I said anything,” I scoff.

“Mom would never do anything like that. She loved Dad as much as we do. Sometimes things happen in life. Can you imagine what it was like for her, losing the man she’d been with for over thirty years, becoming a single parent in an instant, no time to prepare or adjust? Dad was her best friend. They both miss him and took solace in each other. We could have ended up with a lot worse for a stepdad. Martin isn’t a stranger. He’s the same man we always knew—funny, kind, and ambitious. He’s perfect for Mom, and when you’re seventeen, I know you don’t think about things like health insurance, mortgage payments, and tuition, but when Dad passed, Mom became responsible for all of that by herself. Dad’s life insurance couldn’t cover everything for us to survive on. Without Martin, life would be a whole lot harder for all of us.”

“I don’t care what Mom and Martin do. In a couple of months, I’ll be free to live the life I want without anyone on my back or threatening to send me away,” I retort.

“And what kind of life will you be living?” she asks condescendingly.

“I don’t know, but it’ll be better than it is now.” I shrug.

“You’re seventeen. You only have one semester of school left. You haven’t made any plans for higher education, so what are you going to do? Because as of now, you look like you’re going to be with Mom and Martin a lot longer than you’re planning on.”

“I don’t care if I have to join the circus. The second I turn eighteen, I’m out of there,” I tease.

She smirks and rolls her eyes.

“And back on the subject, this ring,” I say, grabbing her hand again.

“Like I said, it’s not an engagement ring. It’s a promise ring,” she says shyly.

“A promise-to-marry-him ring?” I say sarcastically.

“Well, he offered it as an engagement ring, and I accepted it as a promise ring,” she says innocently.

I feel my face scrunch up. “He must be ugly then.”

She laughs. “Not even a little bit,”

“Boring?” I ask, confused.

“No, he’s anything but that,” she replies, amused.

“Stupid? Oh, I’m sorry,
intellectually challenged
would be the nicer thing to say, huh?”

“No, Gwen. He’s nice, funny, smart, handsome—all the things a girl could want.” She sighs.

“Of course, any guy
every
girl wants, you wouldn’t want,” I say, rolling my eyes.

Gia’s the pickiest person I know. Everything has to be a certain way. She’s a handful to put up with, and any guy with all the traits she’s listed who wants to spend the rest of his life with her, she should hold on to for dear life. In high school, she was a senior during my freshman year, and she was like a legend. No one was good enough for Gia. She turned down football players, class presidents, guys with amazing hair who played guitar. She was untouchable. She believed boys were a waste of time. She became a grand prize, and there were bets on if one would nab her before she graduated, but not one did. Not even her prom date, the super-hot foreign exchange student from France who looked like a model and had the body of an athlete. Gia told my mom he was boring. What French hot guy is
boring?

“I love him,” she says solemnly.

My eyes widen. I’ve never heard her say that. “Then what’s the problem?” I ask with a laugh.

“Marriage is a big deal. Love isn’t the only thing that should be considered.” She shrugs, and I groan.

“You take the most romantic act on the planet, in the history of humanity, and examine it like a legal brief. You’re going to make the perfect lawyer,” I tease.

“See, that’s why divorce is becoming so prevalent. You can’t just get married because of love. You have to consider if your values, beliefs, and goals match,” she says, and I pretend to shoot myself. “You’re young, Gwen, you wouldn’t understand.”