The Fire Between High & Lo
Page 35

Her voice held the same kind of aggression. “Or so he says. Seriously, how many times have we heard that from him? You have this need to parent him and your mom. You aren’t in charge of their lives, babe. And you’re not Logan’s father. Gosh, he’s not even your full brother! He’s your half-brother.”
I heard a loud slam, and my gut tightened up. Standing from the sofa, I was seconds away from going to check on them. The saucer full of ashes stayed in my grip as I walked toward the bedroom, yet I paused when I heard Kellan’s voice.
“If you ever say something like that again, I will walk out of this place and have a hard time looking back. Yeah, Logan has fucked up in the past. He’s burned bridges between you, and tons of other people. To many, he’s unforgiveable. But he’s my brother. None of that ‘half’ shit. One hundred percent, he’s my brother. I will look after him, and I will never give up on him. I will never burn that bridge, Erika. So if that bothers you, well, that’s probably going to be an issue.”
Their voices lowered, and I had to listen very closely to hear Erika apologize, followed by the exchanges of I love yous, and more apologies.
When the door opened, I stood with my cigarette hanging between my lips. The two stared at me, shocked to see me so nearby. “Listen, you guys,” I started.
“Are you smoking in the house?” Erika gasped, ripping the cigarette from between my lips. “And are you putting ashes on my good china?!” she whined, snatching the saucer from my hands. “Oh my gosh. My mom is going to be here in a few hours and now the place smells like smoke!”
Erika’s mom. The only person on the earth who was more dramatic and annoying than Erika herself. How was Alyssa related to these people?
She hurried over to the sink, where she drowned my cigarette, sending it through the garbage disposal. She muttered to herself as she began to scrub the plate over and over again.
An awkward silence took over the room, as Kellan and I stared at his fiancée, who seemed to be level five hundred crazy that day.
“So…” Kellan said, rocking back and forth. “Want to go check out Jacob’s restaurant?” he asked.
“Yup,” I replied, faster than the speed of light. Jacob was an old friend who I hadn’t spoken to since I snapped on him about his porn collection. I wasn’t certain how the reunion would go, but I was hopeful that it would be better than the reunification with Erika.
We hurried out of the door before Erika could grow any angrier.
“You think she’s still not over me almost burning down her last apartment?” I asked, with a smirk on my face.
“Oh, she’s definitely not over you almost burning down her apartment,” Kellan laughed.
“Give me a break. It was a mistake.”
“That cost her four thousand dollars, yeah. An expensive mistake. But she’ll get over it, no worries.”
“Kellan, why am I here?”
Before he could reply, the front door opened. “You can stay in one of the guestrooms,” Erika said, nodding toward Kellan. Her eyes locked with mine, and she seemed calmer than before. Maybe the intense cleaning session balanced out her mojo. “I’ll put your bag in there.”
“Thanks, Erika. It means a lot to me,” I replied.
“We’ll be back in time for dinner,” Kellan said, kissing her cheek.
“We?” she asked, her voice heightening with concern.
“We,” he said, pointing toward himself and me. She tried her best not to cringe, but she definitely cringed.
“Oh, wonderful. I’ll just, somehow, make the meatloaf big enough for four instead of three people. And I’ll set an extra placemat.” I could feel her annoyance floating in the air, but she smiled and slowly walked back inside and shut the door.
“I think she and I are officially best friends,” I laughed.
“The bestest of friends,” he agreed. “Speaking of… How was it seeing Alyssa?”
“Fine,” I lied. “I just plan on avoiding her the best I can.”
“Good,” he said, walking down the front porch. “It’s probably for the best that those feelings from the past are gone, huh? Maybe you can forgive, forget, and both move on now.”
“Yeah. I felt nothing being around her actually. So, that’s good.” That was the truth, too. And by ‘truth’ I meant the ugliest lie. I remembered the words Alyssa said earlier at the diner.
“Home is always home. Even when you don’t want it to be.”
After all of the time that passed, after all of the distance, Alyssa Marie Walters still somehow felt like home to me.
I wasn’t certain how to handle that fact, which was exactly why I needed a one-way ticket away from True Falls, Wisconsin.
Fast.
Chapter Eighteen
Alyssa
“On a scale of one to ten, how long did you know Logan was in town before you figured to call me? One being you had no clue, ten being, ‘I secretly hate my sister,’” I asked Erika through the phone, juggling my keys as I tried to get into my house. Ever since Logan and I crossed paths at the restaurant, my nerves had been shot. I couldn’t think straight, I felt nauseous, I felt anger…I felt…relief?
A big part of me sometimes doubted that Logan was still alive, even though Kellan would give me updates every now and then.
“Trust me, I had no clue,” Erika said. I finally opened my front door and within seconds, I was flopped on my sofa. “Kellan sent out an S.O.S. for him I guess. It’s a mess. He’s supposed to be staying with us for a while.”
“A while?” I asked, perking up. “How long is a while? Is he there now?” I debated walking over to her house just to see his face. Just to make sure he was real.
“Aly,” she scolded, her voice sounding a lot like Mom’s when she’d discipline us as kids. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t go back down that road. Logan Silverstone is out of your life. And I think it’s best if we keep it that way.”
How is he supposed to stay out of my life if he’s literally blocks away from me, staying with my sister?
“I was just curious, Erika. Seriously.” I paused, listening to the noise coming through the phone. She was rearranging her whole house; I just knew it. I could hear her pushing the furniture around. Whenever Erika was nervous or upset, she always rearranged things, or accidentally broke items, which she would quickly run to the store to replace. It was a weird quirk about her, but I left a boy a message each day for almost five years—everyone had their weird quirks. “Wow, he must have really gotten under your skin,” I said, pulling out a tube of lipstick and applying it over and over again. “I can hear you moving things around.”