That Summer: ThirteenMature

Willow

The penthouse greeted me with a gentle blast of cool air. I had already swept up my long hair into a sloppy bun, but it was no defense against the armies of heat waves invading New York City.

I couldnt help thinking of Harper, of the distance that hung about her. It had only been a week since school had let out, and suddenly my closest friend was a complete stranger. But I didnt want to think about that. I didnt know if I could stand to lose anyone else. Already my parents were gone, and my brother obviously wanted nothng to do with me. Harper was one of the only people I had left.

"Crimson said you werent coming home for a while." An icy voice sent shivers up my spine; I turned into the kitchen. Who should be there but the devil herself, dolled up in a lacy gray tank and tight black jeans. Her hair was loose and wavy. Her expression was murderous.

Trinity Hills.

"Well, maybe if Michael would actually talk to me, he woudnt make those assumptions," I retorted. I wanted her to leave. She was a plague sucking out what little life my brother had left. In the end she would cut him so deep he would die from bloodloss. There was no denying that.

Trinity's scowl did not fade as she turned back to the stove, where she was frying some eggs. I didnt know where she got these maternal qualities from. How someone so undeniably beautiful could be so cruel.

"Look, I'll leave you too alone," I said, hating myself for the defeat in my voice. I thought Trinity might reply, but she never got the chance, for then Michael appeared in the doorway, all disheveled and shrouded in mystery. Cocky, with his lazy smirk. But terrified too. Terrified that everything he had left would slip away.

Right after the accident, my twin and I had held to each other with all we had. And why not? We'd been thrust into a vast city, twisted streets that offered no love. Then he'd found Trinity and weed and however else he numbed himself. And I'd been left with nothing to cling to but myself.

"No need," my brother said lowly. "Trevor just called; he wants to meet us lunch."

My heart thudded dully, pale green eyes shifting from his face to that of the black haired girl. She was cold and expressionless as she nodded.

In my mind, I was back at the Met, frozen in captivation as Harper faded into the crowd unknowingly. Caught in the stare of such misery. "I told you I'd see you again," the man had said. "I never did ask your name."

"Willow." It slipped out so easily.

He murmured it back to me, and it had never sounded so perfect. So poisonously infecting. "I'm Trevor."

Trevor. I shook my head, passing it off as fixing my hair. It was a massive city. Of course there was more than one Trevor.

I left them there without so much as a goodbye, because they had each other and did not want me. Trudged up the stairs and wondered if anyone ever would.

The End

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