After Saving Her, I Fell for Her

Clara Hayes was the little sister I had picked up when she was just a kid. We had relied on each other for ten years, and somewhere along the way, I had fallen in love with her without even realizing it. Then, the other day, I spotted another guy hanging around her. I could not help thinking that if I did not confess how I felt, I might lose her for good. But ever since I had blurted out my feelings, Clara had not stopped dodging me. That day was my birthday. I showed up extra early at her school to pick her up. The chill in the air had gotten sharper by the day, and all the trees outside the school gate stood bare. I kicked idly at the crumpled, dead leaves littering the sidewalk. The second I caught sight of Clara's familiar silhouette, I stepped forward to greet her. But she froze in her tracks. I squinted harder, and that was when I realized she was waiting for Felix Foster. I ducked back behind a thick old tree to hide. At that moment, I suddenly wanted very much to see, to sneak a peek at how they acted together. Off they went, strolling hand in hand, laughing and chatting. Halfway along the path, Clara's shoelace came undone. Without a second thought, Felix bent down and tied it back up for her, slowly and carefully. They got closer and closer to where I was hiding. I was still torn on whether I should step out and face them when they turned off onto another path. "Clara, why don't you skip going home tonight, okay?" I heard Felix say. "If I don't go home, where would I stay?" she asked. "What if we get a room at a hotel nearby?" he suggested. They walked farther and farther away. By the time my brain caught up and I sprinted after them, they had vanished without a trace. I fumbled my phone out of my pocket in a panic and dialed Clara's number right away. No one picked up the first call, but I refused to give up, so I dialed again. The second call still went unanswered. I dialed again, and again, and again until the fifth try, when the call abruptly cut off. She had hung up on me. I collapsed back into the driver's seat, deflated, and slammed my palm against the steering wheel with a dull thump, regret burning through me. A few seconds later, my phone buzzed in my hand. It was a text from Clara: "Ethan, I'm not coming home tonight." I typed back as fast as my shaking fingers could move: "Clara, today's my birthday." She replied, "Happy birthday, Ethan. I will get you a huge cake tomorrow, I promise." I jammed the call button again immediately, but all I got was the cold, automated voice telling me the phone was powered off. When I pushed open our front door, a hollow, cold emptiness wrapped around me. Spread across the dining table were all the fancy dishes I had prepped hours earlier, every single one of them Clara's favorites. Right at the far end of the table sat a strawberry cake. That was her absolute favorite, too. My mind drifted straight back to the first few years after I found her. We had a roof over our heads to keep out the wind and rain, but that was about it. We barely had two pennies to rub together back then. Back then, a strawberry cake might as well have been a luxury fit for kings. I could not even afford to buy her a plain little basic cake, let alone that. I still remember that day, my birthday. She ran up to me, clutching a tiny slice of strawberry cake in both grubby hands. Her face was smudged with dirt, and there was a faint streak of blood crusted at the corner of her mouth. I knew right away what had happened. She had stolen that slice from the bakery down the street. She had gotten caught and beaten for it, too. She blinked her big, round eyes up at me and said, "Ethan, can we celebrate birthdays together every single year from now on, okay?" I broke off little pieces of that cake and fed them to her, bite by bite. "Okay," I said. "From now on, my birthday is your birthday too. We will eat strawberry cake together every year, I promise." She dug out the only strawberry from the cake and popped it straight into my mouth. "Nope, that won't do," she said. "My birthday has to be your birthday too. That way we get two birthdays a year, and two whole strawberry cakes to eat together." But now, the girl who once promised we would spend every birthday eating strawberry cake side by side was not coming home. Clara did not come back until the early hours of the next morning. She flipped on the living room light, and her eyes went wide when she saw me. "Ethan, why are you still up?" she asked. I flicked my cigarette butt onto the floor absently and crushed it out under my boot. "Clara, come here a minute," I said. She did as I told her and sat down next to me. "Clara," I asked, "do you really not want to be with me? To marry me?" She froze, completely stunned. I figured she never expected I would bring up that old business again after all this time. A long moment stretched by, and then she slowly shook her head. "Ethan, you will always just be my brother." I let out a low hum. "Okay," I said. "Go back to your room." She glanced back at me over and over with every step she took, and only mumbled a soft "good night" when she reached the door. I sat on that couch the whole night. The moon hung outside the window and kept me company the entire time, but the bedroom I stared at so hard never once opened, and no one stepped out. Clara, she really had never had feelings for me after all, had she? That whole night, my mind raced nonstop. I replayed the shock on her face when I asked her that question over and over. I thought about how cold she had been when she told me she already had a boyfriend. I even kept replaying the fact that she had broken her promise to get me that belated birthday cake. Not loving me was not a crime, after all. I picked her up and brought her home, and that was true. And I was the one who had told her to call me Ethan in the first place. She might be my sister, but she still had every right to love another person and be loved in return, did she not?