Daniel and Mom were best friends. Sometimes I’d come home and find them at the kitchen table, just talking. Laughing. He told her everything. He wants me to take her place, and when I understandably cannot, he hates me for it.
I straighten, blinking my eyes quickly to keep back the tears. I have to be stronger than this. The porcelain sink is cold against my fingers as I grip the edge, staring at my reflection until my pulse calms. Daniel’s here and he needs me. So I have to be better.
I grab the hotel-provided toothbrush and paste and turn on the faucet. The taste is chalky, like baking soda, and I rinse out my mouth. My reflection stares back at me and I’m surprised by how well I look. Last night was probably the best sleep I’ve had since—
“Audrey,” Daniel whines from the other room. “I’m dying here.”
My brother is spoiled, but not altogether terrible because of it. I pull on the jeans and slip the tank top over my head. Now that Daniel’s here, I realize I’m hungry too. I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.
Daniel’s lounging back on his elbows and still grinning. “So it all started with this gorgeous blonde,” he says the minute I walk in, as if we were still in midconversation. “I was lost in the hallway—have you walked around yet?” he pauses to ask. “It’s like a fun-house maze. Anyway, I’m just trying to find my way back to the lobby when this girl stumbles out of a room and the door slams in her face.”
“Sounds promising.” I lean down to lift the bed skirt, trying to find my flip-flops. There they are.
“Right?” Daniel laughs. “So she’s crying, black shit all around her eyes. But she’s beautiful, and I don’t mean everyday attractive. She’s like a classic painting.”
I put my hand on my hip and scoff. “Seriously? Are you drunk?”
Daniel sits up, his eyes wide and earnest. “I’m not kidding, Aud. She was . . . perfect. Blond hair, nice dress—a classy girl,” he adds emphatically. “And even with the smeared makeup, her skin was like one of those creepy dolls that Nana used to send you.” He motions his hand for me to remember.
“A porcelain doll?” I ask.
“Yes!”
“Daniel, she sounds horrible. I used to lock those dolls in my closet at night so they wouldn’t kill me. You sure you weren’t hallucinating?”
He shakes his head, smiling to himself. “Naw. She was real. I went up to her and asked if she was okay. Then she stared at me for a long while, and I thought maybe she was having some sort of a breakdown. Then she told me I was pretty.”
I curl my lip. My brother has always had awful taste in girls. It used to be the around-the-dinner-table joke. But this one might be in a category all her own. Obviously someone was kicking her out of the room. She has baggage. “And you responded by . . . ?”
“I kissed her,” he says, like it’s the only logical response. “I don’t get called pretty every day, Audrey.”
Now I laugh. “Oh, please. You were voted Best Looking in the yearbook. How much more validation do you need?”
“I’m needy.”
I slip on my sandals and grab my purse from inside my backpack. I didn’t pack much to go to my grandmother’s. One duffel bag and one backpack. My entire life could fit in an overhead compartment. Daniel jumps up from the bed, intent on finishing his story.
“So we kissed, and her skin was ice cold. I asked her if she wanted my hoodie.”
“Gross, the dirty one?”
He shrugs and holds open the door for me. “She didn’t take it. She said she had a shawl in her room.” The door slams behind us, rattling the frame. Daniel and I both glance down the hall at the other rooms, the silence so ominous it automatically makes my shoulders tense. “Uh . . .” Daniel pauses, seeming to sense the same thing, and then continues. “And then she took my hand and led me through the halls. God, it felt like we walked for hours.”
When we get to the elevator, Daniel reaches past me to push the button a bunch of times. Although his stories are rarely this bizarre, the last few months there’d been a rush of desperate girls. Ones who needed him, when really he was the one in need.
“Then where’d you go?” I ask. The elevator doors open and we step inside. Daniel pushes the lobby button, and I glance in the mirror and smooth down the flyaway strands of hair from my part. I should have grabbed a ponytail holder. What if I bump into Elias?
“We didn’t go anywhere,” Daniel says, leaning against the shiny gold railing. “That’s the thing—we just walked the hallways all night.”
“Morning,” I correct, and then apologize when he gives me the Don’t be a know-it-all look.
“Then we were at her door and she asked if I would come in.”