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Calista kept laughing. She began to waver and quickly fell off the arm of the couch and hit the floor with a scream.
“Great,” Nelle whispered to herself.
As she walked to check on her sister, she grabbed a messy, balled up blanket off the couch to cover her sister up with.
Calista was on the floor, propped up on her elbows. No longer laughing, still smiling, tears in her eyes.
She looked up at Nelle. “Who-haw…”
Nelle crouched down for a second, then turned and sat next to her sister. She inched back and leaned against a wall. Calista curled right up on Nelle’s lap as Nelle covered her up.
This was a perfect TV show moment for Nelle to give an important big sister speech. Maybe tell Calista to cut back on the drinking. Definitely tell Calista to stop snorting cocaine like it was fresh oxygen. Maybe question Calista about other tiny baggies ofstuffNelle accidentally found in the bathroom.
Nelle hated the idea that her only living sister could possibly be considered ajunkie, but it didn’t surprise her. Nelle could also give Calista a speech about keeping her legs closed. No judgement. Sex was amazing—even though poor Nelle hadn’t been touched by a man in over a year.
Thinking that suddenly had Nelle’s mind running a little crazy for a second or two. Of all people to think about, she thought about that biker. The one from the cemetery. Only because there was a really good chance those bikers caused the shooting…
“It’s notthem, is it?” Calista asked.
She turned her head and looked up at her sister. Nelle saw her sister as a little girl again. A young girl wanting to know why life was so hard and messy, even though on the outside it looked so perfect.
They had a handsome father. He had three beautiful daughters. They lived in a huge house. They were essentiallyrichin many ways. Yet all three sisters lived in an awful version of hell.
“Nelle,” Calista whispered, her voice crackling.
I have to lie to her,Nelle thought.
Nelle shook her head. “Can’t bethem. You know I’d never let that happen.”
“But you know how our father is… what he would do…”
“He doesn’t know where we are, Calista. Nobody does. That’s why we live the way we do.”
“I think I’m going to run away with a rock star. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” Nelle said. “You rock out with yourwho-hawout.”
“You really have to stop saying that word,” Calista said. “Makes you sound so innocent. That’s why guys don’t want to fuck you.”
“Wow. Really?”
“I can sense it. I can almost smell it. You need to get laid, sister.”
“I’ll put it on my list of things to do.”
Nelle stroked Calista’s hair. It took seconds for Calista to fall right asleep.
Nelle sat there, back against the wall, her only living sister now asleep on her lap. She blinked fast and felt a stray tear or two roll from her eye and down her right cheek. It was a fucked up life to live.
The worst thought going through Nelle’s mind? She wished, hoped, and needed more than anything else right now to know that her sister had been killed by mistake because of something to do with the bikers. Because if Thalia was killed on purpose… planned… premeditated… tracked down… murdered…
That meant Calista was next to die.
Nelle said goodbye the only way she knew how—leaving without actually saying goodbye. Early morning came and she slipped out of her sister’s apartment with a note left on the coffee table.
Love you. Call if you need anything.
That was the best Nelle had to offer. Lingering around town, wondering and worrying would get her nowhere. And watching Calista drink and snort cocaine would only break her heart even more.
