But then I didn’t know much about Robert at all. He and Anne are newly married and just back from their honeymoon.
Another text comes in but I don’t check it because I’m too busy exiting the plane. I make a stop at the restroom to freshen up and change clothes before Anne sees me in this dress, which I know she won’t approve of. I’m not a people pleaser, but I do try to keep things easy between us. How could I not? For the past four and a half years, she’s taken care of me. She took me out of a foster system that was doing me no favors. In fact, the last home I lived in before Anne, I had to fight to keep one of the older boys from crawling in my bed at night. I was later removed from that house for kicking his teeth in. Trust me, Anne has her quirks, but without her, I never would have gotten to go to a private school or have nice clothes.
She wants a perfect little Highland Park girl and I do my best.
Except for secretly applying to NYU.
And getting my butterfly tattoo in New York.
Feeling excited, I look in the mirror and tug down the back of my dress at my neck to see how it’s doing. Still red and sore, the hand-sized butterfly sits about three inches below my nape, and I know Anne is eventually going to see it, but I don’t care. I’m in love with it because it reminds me of the beautiful boy who came into my life briefly when I was eleven. He flitted in and gave me hope. His kindness meant something and seeing it is a reminder.
Inside a stall, I take off my dress and slip on a pair of brown leggings and a modest, high-neck, maroon-colored sweater Anne bought for me. I pull out a pair of taupe booties and push them on my feet. After I dress, I remove the red lipstick and apply pink instead. I brush on a light coat of mascara, powder the sheen off my nose, and brush out my long hair until it shines.
After stuffing the dress and Converse into my backpack, I make my way to baggage claim, craning my neck to find Anne’s blonde hair.
Because Robert is tall and dressed conspicuously in an expensive suit, I find him immediately and see Anne behind him. Dressed conservatively in a knee-length pencil skirt and heels with impeccable makeup, she has her attention on Robert and the person he’s talking to—a tall guy in a gray leather jacket.
Whatttt?
I stop breathing as realization dawns.
Robert’s English. Spider’s English.
No.
No way in hell.
My eyes bounce back and forth between Robert and Spider as they stand there talking.
They’re nothing alike.
They’re like night and day, fire and ice.
Maybe they’re just chatting, old buddies who realized they were from the same country.
My phone pings again and I pull it out to see two texts from Anne. The first one was sent while I was still on the plane but was too busy to get.
Your stepbrother was on the plane.
And there it is . . . confirmed.
The next one is Where are you?
She must have just sent it.
I look back up to watch as Anne turns to Spider and hugs him. It doesn’t take a person like me who reads others well to see that she’s uncomfortable with him right away. The truth is in her stiff countenance and the way she keeps throwing glances Robert’s way. Robert moves to stand next to her as both of them talk to Spider. I don’t miss that his dad’s eyes are narrowed on him, raking over him, as if searching for something.
Spider hasn’t seen me yet, and I watch as he pushes back hair that has fallen into his face, tugging on the ends as if he’s anxious. I notice the vulnerable look to his shoulders as he slumps down to fiddle with his guitar. A small part of me forgets my anger and wonders what’s going on with him and his dad.
I cling to my pillow and pretend it’s a wall between Spider and myself as I march over to where they stand. My heart pounds so hard I’m sure everyone in the vicinity can hear it. I’m nervous and angry yet strangely excited about seeing Spider again.
“Clarence has been on the road for the past few months,” Robert’s telling Anne as I approach.
“Can’t you call me Spider like everyone else?” Spider says, a tightness to his face.
Robert ignores him, his eyes going over Spider’s shoulder to me. He motions for him to be quiet. “Hang on, there’s Rose,” I hear him say.
Anne waves and then grabs my hand as I reach them. She pulls me in for a light cheek kiss, the scent of her perfume familiar and comforting even though we aren’t terribly close. I smile broadly at her as she asks how I am and how the flight was. I reply normally. No way am I going to let on anything about Spider. I can already sense that things are iffy between him and his dad, and no matter his faults, I don’t want to add to their particular family drama.
I watch out of my peripheral vision as Spider slowly turns to face me.
Surprise is on his face, more so as his eyes take in the change of clothing and the subdued lipstick.
Robert, who I only met a few months ago when Anne announced she was pregnant, smiles at me. We’re still feeling each other out, but my initial impression of him is that he’s a lot like Anne . . . conservative and a bit unemotional.
He gestures to Spider. “Clarence, I’d like for you to meet Rose, your new stepsister.”
Spider grasps my hand, and a current zips between us. I recall that kiss on the plane even though I don’t want to.
Both of us just stand there.
I think he’s reeling.
I know I am.
I tug my hand away, realizing we’ve been holding hands too long for it to be normal.
“She’s seventeen,” Robert says carefully in his clipped tones, his eyes going from me to Spider.
A flash of surprise crosses Spider’s face before he quickly covers it. “Is that right? I thought you were . . . older,” he says, a bit of an accusation in his tone.
My lips flatten and I nod. “It’s because I’m tall, but one should never assume. How old are you?”
“Twenty-two. It feels like I was seventeen a million years ago.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say because I don’t know what else to say. This is the weirdest situation I’ve ever found myself in—and that’s saying a lot. My stepbrother is a guy I kissed on the plane . . . who later screwed the flight attendant. There’s no etiquette book for that.
“Did you see each other on the plane?” Robert asks.
My lips tighten. “I didn’t see him.” Which was true. I saw a guy I built up in my head, a guy who was sweet and kissed me like he meant it.
I didn’t know this other person.
Robert looks at Spider, who’s currently gazing at me, a look of regret on his face.
That look . . . it makes me falter for a moment, but I rally back. I’m not letting him get to me again.
“I look forward to getting to know you,” he says, his eyes on my face, as if he’s trying to figure me out. Then, in front of God and everyone at the airport, he leans down and lightly brushes my cheek with his lips. His touch makes my body hum and my heart flip-flop. Stupid, stupid heart.