Between The Lies

Chapter 6: The Breaking Point

STELLA

Saturday morning feels different.

Maybe it's because Luca actually suggested we do something together. Or maybe it's because for the first time in months, the house doesn't feel so suffocatingly empty.

"Mall?" he'd asked over breakfast. "We could grab lunch, maybe catch a movie. Like we used to."

Like we used to. Those three words made my chest warm in a way I don't want to examine too closely.

So here we are, walking through the Westfield mall like normal siblings. Luca's wearing a black hoodie and jeans, a baseball cap pulled low to avoid being recognized—being a local teen music sensation has its downsides. I'm in leggings and an oversized sweater, comfortable and happy just to be with him.

"Hot Topic or Forever 21 first?" he asks, that small smile playing on his lips. The real one. The one I've missed.

"Hot Topic. Obviously. You know I need to check their band tees."

"You have like fifty band tees."

"And? Your point?" I bump his shoulder with mine, and he doesn't pull away. Progress.

We're laughing about some stupid meme on my phone when I hear it.

"Luca! Oh my god, what a coincidence!"

My laughter dies.

Vanessa Cole is walking toward us like she's on a runway, shopping bags hanging from her arms, that perfect smile plastered on her face. She's wearing a tight dress that probably costs more than my entire wardrobe, and her hair looks like she just stepped out of a salon.

Next to her, I feel like a child in my comfortable clothes.

"Vanessa," Luca says, and I can't tell if he's happy to see her or not. "Hey."

"This is so crazy! I was just thinking about you." She reaches us and immediately touches his arm. Again. She's always touching him. "Are you shopping alone?"

"No, I'm with—" Luca gestures to me.

"Oh. Stella. Right." Vanessa's eyes flick to me for half a second before returning to Luca. Like I'm not even worth acknowledging. "That's sweet that you brought your little sister."

Little sister. The words sting more than they should.

"We're just hanging out," Luca says.

"Well, I'm so glad I ran into you! I was going to text you actually." She steps closer to him, angling her body so I'm practically excluded from the conversation. "There's this amazing Italian place on the third floor. We should grab lunch. Catch up properly."

"We already have lunch plans," I say before Luca can respond.

Vanessa finally looks at me. Really looks at me. And there's something in her eyes—calculation, maybe, or amusement—that makes my skin crawl.

"I'm sure Luca can spare an hour," she says sweetly. "You don't mind, do you, Stella? Siblings should learn to share."

The condescension in her voice makes my hands clench into fists.

"Actually—" Luca starts.

"It'll be fun! Just like old times." Vanessa's hand slides down his arm to his hand. Actually takes his hand. "Remember that pizza place we used to go to after school? Before everything got... complicated?"

Before you chose my bully over him, you mean.

"Vanessa, I don't think—"

"Please?" She does this thing with her eyes, looking up at him through her lashes. "I really want to talk to you. Alone."

The word "alone" feels like a slap.

I watch Luca's face, watch him trying to figure out how to handle this, and something inside me breaks.

"You know what? Fine." I pull away from them both. "You two go have lunch. I'll just... I'll find something to do."

"Stella—" Luca's voice is pained.

"It's fine. Really." I'm already backing away. "I need to look for new dance shoes anyway. You guys have fun."

I turn and walk away before either of them can say anything else. Before Luca can see the tears burning in my eyes. Before I have to watch Vanessa lead my brother away like she has some claim on him.

I make it to the bathroom before the first tear falls.

This is stupid. I'm being stupid. Luca can have lunch with whoever he wants. Vanessa is just an old friend. This doesn't mean anything.

So why does it feel like my chest is being ripped open?

I stare at myself in the mirror. My eyes—my big, "bug eyes" that Ethan used to mock—stare back at me, now filled with tears I don't understand.

What's wrong with me? Why do I care so much?

He's my brother. He's allowed to have friends. He's allowed to have lunch with girls who aren't me.

But the thought of him sitting across from Vanessa, listening to her laugh, watching her touch his hand—

I can't breathe.

My phone buzzes.

Luca: Where are you?

Luca: I didn't go with her.

Luca: Stella, please tell me where you are.

The tears fall harder.

Me: Bathroom near Hot Topic

Luca: Stay there. I'm coming.

Three minutes later, he's there. Standing outside the bathroom, concern written all over his face.

"Hey," he says softly when I emerge. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You're crying."

"I'm not—" But I am. Fresh tears slide down my cheeks, and I wipe them away angrily. "I'm fine, Luca. Go have lunch with Vanessa."

"I told her no." He steps closer. "I told her I was here with you and I wasn't ditching you for anyone."

"You didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I did." His hand comes up like he's going to touch my face, then drops. "Stella, what's going on? Why are you so upset?"

"I don't know!" The words burst out of me. "I don't know, okay? I just... I don't like her. I don't like the way she looks at you or touches you or acts like she has some right to your time. I don't like that she shows up and suddenly I'm just the annoying little sister who needs to learn to share."

"You're not annoying. And you're not—" He stops himself.

"Not what?"

"Not little. Not anymore." His voice is rough. "And you don't have to share me with anyone you don't want to."

Something in the way he says it makes my heart race.

"I'm being ridiculous," I mutter, wiping my face. "You should be able to have lunch with whoever you want. I'm being a clingy, jealous—"

"Jealous?" He catches the word. "You're jealous of Vanessa?"

Yes. God, yes. But I can't say that because I don't understand why.

"I just... I finally got you back. After months of you avoiding me, I finally got my brother back. And now she shows up and it feels like she's trying to take you away again."

Luca stares at me for a long moment. Then: "No one is taking me anywhere. Especially not Vanessa."

"Promise?"

"Promise." This time when his hand comes up, he does touch my face. His thumb brushes away a tear, and the contact sends electricity through my entire body. "You're the only person I want to be here with. Okay?"

I nod, not trusting my voice.

His hand lingers on my cheek. His eyes are dark, intense, searching my face for something. We're standing too close. Way too close. But neither of us moves.

"We should—" I start.

"Yeah," he agrees, but he doesn't step back.

For one impossible second, I think he's going to kiss me. The thought should horrify me. Should send me running.

Instead, I find myself leaning in.

Then someone walks past us, breaking the spell, and Luca drops his hand like he's been burned.

"Ice cream," he says abruptly. "Let's get ice cream."

"Okay."

We walk to the food court in silence, both of us carefully not touching, carefully maintaining distance. But I can still feel the ghost of his hand on my face. Can still feel the weight of that moment.

What was that?

LUCA

I almost kissed my sister.

Standing in that hallway, her tear-stained face looking up at me, jealousy written all over her features—I almost kissed her.

I'm losing my mind.

The drive home is quiet. Stella picks at her ice cream and stares out the window, and I grip the steering wheel and try to figure out what the hell is wrong with me.

She was jealous. Actually jealous of Vanessa. And instead of being horrified or confused, she just seemed... hurt. Like she didn't understand her own feelings.

Welcome to the club.

By the time we get home, it's evening. The sun is setting, painting the sky orange and pink, and the house feels too big and too empty as always.

"I'm gonna shower," Stella says quietly.

"Yeah. Okay."

She disappears upstairs, and I collapse on the couch, running my hands through my hair.

This is getting out of control. I promised myself I'd be a normal brother. Promised I'd stop avoiding her and just act like siblings are supposed to act.

But how am I supposed to do that when she looks at me like I hung the moon? When she gets jealous over other girls? When she leans in like she wants—

No. Don't finish that thought.

I'm in my room an hour later, trying to work on a song and failing miserably, when there's a soft knock on my door.

"Come in."

Stella appears, and my breath catches. She's in pajamas—shorts and a tank top—her hair still damp from the shower. She looks young and vulnerable and so beautiful it hurts.

"Can't sleep?" I ask.

"Can't stop thinking." She hovers in the doorway. "Can I come in?"

Every instinct screams that this is a bad idea. That being alone with her at night, in my room, after what almost happened at the mall is dangerous.

"Yeah. Of course."

She comes in and sits on my bed, drawing her knees up to her chest. "I'm sorry about today. About freaking out over Vanessa."

"You don't need to apologize."

"I do. I was being weird and possessive and—"

"Stella." I set down my guitar. "You weren't being weird. You were being honest. And I..." I shouldn't say this. Shouldn't encourage this. "I liked it."

She looks up at me, confused. "You liked me being jealous?"

"I liked that you care. That you don't want to lose me." To Vanessa or anyone else.

"Of course I care. You're my brother. You're my favorite person."

Favorite person. God, if she only knew.

"You're mine too," I admit quietly.

Silence falls between us. Heavy. Charged. Dangerous.

"Luca?" Her voice is small.

"Yeah?"

"What happened at the mall? That moment in the hallway?"

My heart stops. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." She's looking at me now, really looking at me. "You touched my face and we just... we stood there. And it felt like..."

"Like what?" I shouldn't ask. Shouldn't push this.

"Like something was about to happen. Something that shouldn't." She says it so quietly I almost don't hear. "Am I crazy? Did I imagine that?"

No. God, no. She didn't imagine it.

"Stella—"

"Because I've been feeling so weird lately." The words rush out of her now. "Around you. When you look at me or touch me or when I see other girls near you. And I don't understand it. I don't understand why everything feels different now."

I should lie. Should tell her she's imagining things. Should shut this down before it goes any further.

But I'm so tired of lying.

"You're not crazy," I hear myself say. "You're not imagining it."

She stares at me. "Then what is it? What's happening to us?"

Everything. Everything is happening.

I stand up, needing distance, but she stands too. We're face to face now in my small room, the space between us crackling with tension.

"I can't—" I start.

"Can't what? Can't tell me? Can't explain why you've been avoiding me? Can't help me understand why I feel like this?"

"Feel like what, Stella?" The question is dangerous. Reckless. "Tell me how you feel."

"I don't know! That's the problem!" Her voice breaks. "All I know is that I miss you when you're not around. That I get jealous when other girls look at you. That when you touch me it feels like electricity. That today, in that hallway, I wanted—"

She stops. Cuts herself off. But the damage is done.

"Wanted what?" I'm moving closer without meaning to.

"Nothing. I don't—I can't—"

"Say it, Stella."

"I wanted you to kiss me!" The confession explodes out of her. "And I know that's wrong and crazy and not how sisters are supposed to feel about their brothers, but I can't help it. I can't—"

I kiss her.

I don't decide to do it. Don't think about consequences. I just move forward and press my lips to hers and finally, finally give in to the feeling that's been destroying me for months.

She freezes for one second.

Then she's kissing me back.

Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer, and I cup her face with both hands, deepening the kiss. She tastes like mint toothpaste and something uniquely her, and I'm drowning in it. Drowning in her.

This is wrong. So completely, utterly wrong.

But it feels like the only right thing I've ever done.

When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard. Stella's eyes are wide, shocked, her lips swollen from the kiss.

"Oh my god," she whispers. "We just—"

"I know."

"We can't—"

"I know."

But neither of us moves away.

"Luca, what did we just do?"

Everything. We just did everything. Crossed the line. Destroyed the careful distance. Admitted the truth.

"I don't know," I lie. "I don't—"

"I should go." But she doesn't move. "This is—we can't—"

"Stella—"

"I need to think." She backs away, her hand covering her mouth like she can still feel the kiss. "I need to—I can't be here right now."

She runs.

Out of my room. Down the hall. Into her own room. Her door closes, and I hear the lock click.

I sink onto my bed, my head in my hands.

I kissed my sister.

And she kissed me back.

And neither of us knows what the hell happens now.