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hear that?”

“I need to hear it.” I correct her.

I need to know all about my sister, the good and the bad.

I’ve been sent on a mission because Flower wants authentic maple syrup for her pancakes. She’ll get it because she’s a fucking angel and I would do pretty much anything she asks of me. Mother and Dad are making the pancakes and both stressed I have literally ten minutes to get back.

I feel like I’m on one of those reality TV shows, racing all over Whitsborough, and the grand prize is a stack of pancakes. I pull into the grocery store parking lot and park across three lanes. Whatever, it’s a fucking emergency.

I rush inside and nearly plow down Adam Van Dyke, knocking one of his bags out of his hands, and watching as a cucumber rolls to my feet.

I pick it up and hand it back to him, his eyes narrowing on me, and his mouth flattening into a line.

“I would suggest starting with that sucker in the bedroom next time.” I pat him on the shoulder as I pass. “The woman will be less disappointed.”

I hear his growl of frustration but I don’t have the time to criticize Adam’s anatomy-or lack thereof-because my time is running short, like the very anatomy I’m talking about.

I rush through the aisles and grab up the syrup she asked for and get back to my car in five minutes. That leaves me two to get home and with my driving, that’s more than doable. I pass by Adam’s patrol car and give him a wave before speeding off. He wouldn’t dare run me a ticket with the knowledge I possess about his micro weenie.

I’m home in three minutes and I blame the fucking old lady crossing at the crosswalk in her fucking old person walker. I run in the door and Dad begins to tsk.

“Two minutes late, Ivy.”

“What?” I huff out, “one minute.”

“It was only one minute,” Mother agrees and I stick my tongue out at Dad.

“You still win,” Dahlia grins. “Because you got my favourite syrup.”

“Don’t side with them.” Dad swings his finger between Mother and me, “I’ll ask Aunt Adri to come over and cook your pancakes next time.”

“Oh no.” Dahlia’s eyes widen and she looks truly terrified.

Mother and I burst out laughing and Dad keeps a straight face.

“Oh yes,” he nods, “I bet her pancakes would be to die for.”

“I’m too young to die.” Dahlia squeals and we all break out into laughter.

“I can never sleep in on a Sunday.” Saxon comes into the kitchen yawning.

“Pancakes!” Dahlia exclaims and he smiles at her.

“With your favourite syrup, too.” He ruffles her hair.

“Ivy got it for me.” She nods.

“She’s a good big sister.” Saxon says as he sits.

I’m shocked momentarily by his admission because this is Saxon and compliments or sentiments aren’t his thing. And not because he’s mean but because he really doesn’t feel them or see a need for them.

“Thanks.” I mutter as I sit down beside him.

“Someone needs to tell you something good because I’m afraid you’re gonna drown in all the shit.” He shrugs and grabs some pancakes.

See what I mean?

“Ivy is a great big sister,” Dad agrees and Mother nods at the griddle.

“She’s the best big sister.” Dahlia says around a mouthful of pancakes.

“Alright, alright.” I wave them off and grab a pancake off the stack.

I’m looking over my homework later that evening when my phone pings, sending my heart back into my stomach. I pick it up and smile when I see it’s Neil.

Neil: My dick’s in my hand because I can’t seem to forget what you felt like last night.

Right, we fucked last night without a condom and even though it was irresponsible, I don’t really stress about it, I’ll grab a morning after pill tomorrow.

Me: About that. I am taking care of it. No more trysts without a condom though.

Neil: You sure? I can grab whatever it is you need.

He’s sweet and it makes me weary because it wasn’t too long ago that the guy hated me. He probably always will in a way.

Me: I’m good, now tell me more about what’s in your hand.

He sends me a few videos and before long I’m sliding my hand down my pants, imagining he’s there.

“What the hell does that mean, Charlotte?” I stare right back at her.

“It means,” she takes another sharp corner and the tail end of the car swings out, “that if you don’t give us a chance, there will be no others.”

“You need to pull over right now.” I scream at her, no longer able to keep up with my calm facade. 

She laughs maniacally and shakes her head, “why Ivy?”

“Why what?” I grip onto the door as she pulls a U-turn.

“Why have you been doing all this stuff with me? Kissing me and touching me?”

“Because you are beautiful!” I exclaim. 

“So, I’m just a pretty face?” Then she snorts and we’re flying around another sharp turn. “If only my daddy knew that all his warnings would be for a girl and not a guy.”

Her head tips back and she laughs, the car swinging into the oncoming traffic lane. Thank god there’s no traffic this late at night. 

“Watch the road!” I grab the wheel and bring us back into the proper lane. “Pull over Charlotte before you do something you will regret.”

“I already regret so much!” She screams. “I regret coming to Whitsborough, I regret the pills, and I regret you!”

That last one stings because Charlotte has been my best friend since we’ve been in diapers. I try to tell myself that she’s angry and they’re just words but I can feel the anger rolling off of her.

“You can’t mean that.” My voice sounds small and I feel like I am once again losing someone I love. 

“There’s a thin line between love and hate, Ivy.”

I fucking hate Mondays so fucking much. It doesn’t help that I barely slept last night

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