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“Isn’t that Emily over there?” I ask, pointing to a blonde across the room.
Eve glances over, then away just as quickly. “Yep.”
I narrow my eyes. Emily is one of Eve’s best friends. “Should we go say hi?”
She shrugs and takes another drink of her seltzer.
“Trouble in paradise?” I ask.
Eve sighs dramatically. “We aren’t exactly talking right now.”
Ah. So, that’s the reason she asked me out tonight. I was her last option.
I ignore the ache in my chest at that thought. As much as Eve irritates me at times—and she does—she’s still my sister. I love her, shallowness and all. And part of me wishes we could be closer, more connected again. I guess it’s the same part that tries to protect her from herself all the time.
“What happened?” I say, feigning nonchalance, like I always do. It’s easier that way when I’m dealing with Eve.
“She got mad because Aaron was flirting with me,” she explains.
“Who’s Aaron?”
“Her boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend now, I guess.”
Her blue eyes are wide and innocent. But I know better because I know her. She’s far from innocent. With her bombshell figure, the platinum-blonde highlights in her hair, and our contrasting personalities, people are often surprised to find out we’re related. Eve is all fillers and makeup and glam, whereas I go for more of a natural look. She’s big hair, tight clothes, and a huge personality. She spends hours getting ready. I run my fingers through my locks, and I’m ready to go. Like I said, we’re opposites.
“Why is she mad at you for something he did?” I’m asking the question, but I’m pretty sure I already know the answer.
My sister has a track record, and it isn’t good. She makes female friends easily but has a hard time keeping them. In her mind, it’s because they’re always jealous of her. But the reality is, my sister prioritizes men over friendships. And if Emily isn’t speaking to Eve, it’s likely there’s more to this story. A lot more. And I doubt my sister is the victim in this tale.
“Beats me.”
I give her a knowing look, eliciting another sigh from her.
“Fine,” she breathes out. “He might have shown up at my place one night, and I might have let him in.”
“So, you slept with her boyfriend,” I surmise.
“He came onto me,” she insists defensively.
I don’t bother arguing with her or pointing out the error of her ways. It would just go in one ear and out the other anyway. My sister doesn’t think like normal people. Her conscience is basically nonexistent. I learned that a long time ago.
She grabs my arm as her cheeks flush with excitement. “Sam is here,” Eve announces breathlessly.
Emily is instantly forgotten. So is her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—whoever he is.
I glance over to see Sam Anderson, a popular forward on the hockey team. I’ve spotted him around campus and on some of the posters advertising the team. He’s a freshman, like me, but he looks older. Maybe it’s those broad shoulders and that square jaw. He’s a known fuckboy, popular with the ladies, and he’s currently living up to his reputation. He has a girl secured under each arm and a beer dangling from one of his hands. From the glassy look of his eyes, that isn’t his first drink of the night. Probably not even his fourth or fifth.
Eve has always harbored a crush on Sam. It started when we were in high school. We went to a private academy in the city, and Sam played on the high school hockey team that rivaled our own across town. He was always lauded as a great athlete but was rumored to be egocentric and full of himself. He had a reputation for flitting from one girl to the next, leaving plenty of broken hearts in his wake. I know Eve tried to put herself in his path more than once, showing up at parties and events when he was rumored to attend. But for whatever reason, she’s never landed him. I’m sure the challenge only makes her want him more.
“And he’s not alone,” I point out, though it doesn’t deter my sister in the slightest.
It’s beyond me why anyone would want to compete with other women for the attention of one man. I’ve never been tempted to do that. I just don’t see the allure. Especially a smokeshow like my sister. She could snap her fingers and have practically any guy here. But I think part of the draw for Eve is the chase. She likes to conquer the unconquerable. For bragging rights probably. Plus, everyone knows Sam is destined for professional hockey. And with that comes a fat paycheck, making him even more desirable to those who value money.
My sister narrows her eyes as she takes in her competition. “That’s Stacy Reeves and Ari Wisen. Sophomores.” She sneers the last word like it’s a bad thing. Like her being a senior automatically gives her a leg up on the other girls.
“Excuse me,” I say indignantly. “I’m a freshman. So is Sam.”
Her expression softens when I mention the hockey stud. I refrain from rolling my eyes again.
