Far From You

40

FOUR AND A HALF MONTHS AGO (SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD)

The bathroom is empty. Mina is in front of the mirrors, rifling through her makeup bag.

I stand there, furious and enraged and every other angry word I can think of.

She won’t even look at me. Just starts applying lip gloss like we really are in here to freshen up.

“What are you doing?” I demand.

“I’m putting on lip gloss,” she says. “Do you think it’s too dark for me?”

“Mina!”

She flinches. The tube falls out of her hand and onto the brown tile floor. Wide eyes meet mine in the mirror before she looks away.

“What are you doing?” I ask her again.

“Nothing,” she mutters.

“Nothing? You’re trying to set me up with Trev.”

“What’s wrong with that?” she asks, quick and defensive, like I’ve insulted her brother. “Trev’s sweet and he’s good and he’s honest. He’d be a great boyfriend.”

“He’s Trev,” I say, which should explain everything.

“He loves you; you know that.”

Of course I know that. It’s why what she’s doing is so twisted. She is not this stupid—but she is exactly this smart. If I’m with Trev, I’m off-limits in a way that’ll keep her from crossing any line. It’s the only thing that’ll stop her. Stop us.

I want to scream at her. I want to apologize to Trev, because there might have been something between us if Mina hadn’t ruined me for anyone else. I want to run out of here and slam the door behind me so hard the tiles crack.

I want to press her between the sinks and run my tongue along her collarbone.

“Why are you doing this?” I step toward her, and she backs away, but I just keep coming until her shoulders knock against the mirror. I use that stretch of height I have over Mina to my advantage. I get in her space and stay there. I’ve never done this before, the aggressive thing. The initiation part has always been the guy’s job, but now it’s different. I’m different. I can do anything. I can be anything.

I can draw the back of my finger down the soft skin of her neck and let the sound she makes twine deep in my stomach and stay there.

So I do.

“Sophie.” It’s a warning, a gasp. “I just—I want things to go back to normal. Things need to go back to normal.”

“They can’t,” I say.

She licks her lips. “We can’t do this.”

“We can,” I say.

“But Trev…” She trails off. “My mom. Everything. It can’t work. You and me—it’s not right. You and Trev is right. It’s normal. Everyone expects it. I’m trying to help.”

“You’re trying to hide,” I say.

“I can hide if I want.”

“I’m saying you don’t have to.”

She jerks out of my hold. “Of course I do!” she bursts out. “What do you think? That everything’s going to be fine if I tell my mom I’m a lesbian? She’d call in an army of priests to start praying. How do you think Trev will feel when he figures out the girl he’s been in love with forever screwed his little sister? And everybody at school—do you remember what happened to Holly Jacobs? Do you want DYKE spray-painted on your car? Because that’s what’s waiting for us, Soph. Hiding is safe. Choosing Trev is safe.”

There are tears in my eyes, down my cheeks. There’s nothing to say to convince her. We don’t live in a big city. Mina doesn’t come from a family where such things are accepted. She’s right, her mother would call in a priest. And Trev—no matter what happens, Trev will always get hurt.

Nothing I say will change her mind. Years of loving her taught me that. I hate how trapped she is, how trapped she’s made me.

“Trev loves you,” she says in the horrified quiet that hangs between us. “He’d be good for you.”

“I love Trev,” I tell her. “I love him enough that I can’t do that to him. I can’t use him to hide because it’s safe or because you want me to.”

“Be smart, Sophie,” she says, and I hear more warning than pleading in her voice. A wariness that’s never been there before. “Choose him.”

I walk away from her—it’s almost easy, like another person is controlling me—but when I get to the door, I turn back. She stands at the mirror, watching me through the reflection, and I meet her eyes.

“I’ll choose you,” I say. “No matter how hard it is. No matter what people say. Every time, I’ll choose you. It’s up to you to choose me back.”

As I close the door behind me, I hear her start to cry.