Out of Bounds

I toss up my hands, exasperated. “Everyone gives you free everything. Because you’re so pretty,” I say in a hiss, pointing to her gorgeous figure, her lush blond hair, her sky-blue eyes. I slam her cupboard door. I already had a coffee at my own place this morning. But I want another. I want something. Anything. I’m still annoyed that that asshole hasn’t called or texted. It’s been four days, and while I’m immensely glad I didn’t invite him into my bed, I’m also ridiculously disappointed.

More than I should be. My reaction is probably way out of proportion, but I was so sure I’d be seeing Andrew again.

Ugh. Can someone please punch me and make me stop caring?

Ally makes a clawing gesture. “Meow, kitty cat. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the week today, Dani?”

I heave a sigh and drag a hand through my hair. Breathe in. Breathe out. Realize I’m acting like a complete and total douche. Then let go of my ridiculous anger. I can’t take out a stupid dating annoyance on the person I love most. “Sorry,” I mutter. “I think I woke up on the wrong side of the moon. Maybe even the universe.” I shake my head, frustrated with myself, as I lean against my sister’s kitchen counter. “I wasn’t even terribly nice to Mrs. Fitzsimmons when she watered my plants yesterday.”

“Your neighbor does that?” Ally grabs her phone from the counter and tucks it into the back pocket of her skinny jeans. She wears a pink scoop-neck top, and the color makes her look even younger than her twenty-two years.

I nod. “She’s obsessed with plants. I can’t stop her. So I just let her. She loves taking care of the flowers and the plants and the Chinese food menus that wind up on the porch too. When I saw her watering them this morning—”

“The plants, not the Chinese food menus?”

I manage a smile. “Yes, the plants. And I grumbled something about them needing more plant food. When I’m supposed to . . . you know . . . say THANK YOU for making the flowers on my porch beautiful.” I frown. “I’m a witch, Ally. A total witch.”

“No,” she says, as she drapes an arm around me. “You’re not even a rhymes-with-witch. But you can’t let that dick get you down.”

I wrench back to look her in the eyes. This girl sees through me. “How did you know that’s why I was annoyed?”

She laughs loudly. If a laugh could sound knowing, this one qualifies. “Because I know you. And because you called me the second he left the other night to tell me what an amazing time you had. And he is so not worth this,” she says, then gestures to my face. “Also, that insane thing you just said? Go look in the mirror. We look exactly the same. We could almost be twins.”

“Yeah, if you weren’t eight years younger and the baby of the family.”

She flashes me a big, innocent grin. Then digs the tip of her forefinger into her cheek to adopt an apple-pie smile. “I’m so sweet, mwahahaha.”

I hug her. Because I can’t resist. Because I love her madly. That’s why I’m here at her pad, to pick her up and drive her to class on my way into work, since her car is in the shop. She’s working on her master’s degree as a nurse practitioner and I couldn’t be prouder of my little sister. Especially because she’s mine, and I pay for her school.

This is where I drop the news that we’re orphans, right? When I dive into the sob story of how it’s just the two of us navigating the great wide world alone? She’s the only one I’ve ever loved and I volunteer as tribute?

But while I would take her place in the hunger games, I don’t have that kind of tale to tell. Our dad is a high school football coach in San Diego, our mom is a bank teller, and they lost all their retirement money in the last recession. They couldn’t afford to pay for Ally’s college, so she nabbed scholarships, just as I’d done. But grad school was tougher, and that’s why I told her I’d take care of her bills for nursing school. She says she’ll pay me back someday. I doubt I’ll let her. I like taking care of her. Keeping an eye on her is one of my greatest joys in life because she’s so freaking awesome. When we were growing up, she worshiped me, and I adored her. We baked chocolate chip cookies as a team for our dad’s games and cheered from the sidelines as a sibling unit. I taught her how to recognize the shotgun, the pistol, and the wishbone formations, which scored her major points with Dad. We’ve seen every episode of the Gilmore Girls together at least three times, and still secretly hope that Stars Hollow is a real place. If that doesn’t spell sisterly love, I don’t know what does.

Plus, I’ve done well as an attorney, so I can manage the school bills.

As long as I don’t lose my job.

I drum my fingers on the counter. “I need to get to work, sweets. I have a ton to do today, and I don’t want you late for class,” I say, as she gathers up her books and jams them into her messenger bag.

As we walk to the door, she tugs gently on my hair, something she always did when she was little, “I can’t thank you enough for driving me. My car is asking for a knuckle sandwich these days.” She holds up her fist to demonstrate what she wants to do to her little Honda.