The day my sister went to college she was wearing one of her boyfriend's flannel shirts over a white tee, faded blue jeans and pink and white sneakers. The day she came home from college she was wearing a spiked black leather biker jacket, a tight tee, skinny fit black vinyl pants and knee high black boots with more buckles than a straitjacket. Nineteen years old, slim, fit and with a shock of unruly jet black hair, Emma had turned into a goth goddess and, no lie, the hottest girl I'd ever laid eyes on.
Living in the same house as the girl of your dreams is not as fun as it sounds. It's bad enough when you see a hot girl and you know she's unattainable because she's way out of your league, but when that girl is also your big sister that's a whole new level of unattainability.
So I look, but not too much, and tell my friends to lay off when they start talking about how hot she is. So far it's worked, and by worked I mean I haven't lost my fucking mind with frustration. Yet.
Mom and Dad, no surprise, hate her new look, which is maybe the one thing they can agree on, and even more they hate that she also dumped her boyfriend and is now seeing a guy called Luce. Luce is, no kidding, short for Lucifer. I don't think he wears flannel shirts.
There's been no big scenes though. They may not like Emma's style or who she's dating, but they won't do anything crazy like kick her out of the house. People would talk, and Mom and Dad lay a lot of importance on what the town thinks of them.
I sometimes think that's why they're still together. It is why they aren't home tonight. They're attending a wedding at the Wilderwood Hotel, and will be staying over. I wasn't invited and neither was Emma, which is a first since we usually get dragged along to all of these things to shore up the image of the happy family.
Since they won't be home until tomorrow Emma is going to be out all night, doing who the hell knows what with who the hell knows who in who the hell knows where. I caught a look at her before she left and she was in that lethal looking biker jacket, a tight black tee, a short black leather skirt, fishnets and her buckled boots, along with two or three metal studded belts slung round her slim hips. Yeah, she looked amazing.
With the house to myself I grab a couple of beers from the fridge and head up to my room. I go online for a bit, but I can't shake the mental image of Emma out of my head and it's such a distraction my kill/death ratio goes through the floor. After riding the fail train for a while longer I log out and decide to watch a movie instead. I grab a couple of DVDs and go downstairs to the lounge.
I put on Underworld, and it's not long before the sight of Kate Beckinsale in skintight black rubber does what it always does. Yeah, I tell myself as I lean back and unzip, it's Selene that's turning me on. I am totally not jerking off to...
A key rattles in the front door. I yank my zip up and turn of the TV, leaping up from the couch and stuffing tissues into the pocket of my jeans as Emma walks in and throws herself into a chair with a sigh.
"I fucking hate guys, " she says.
"Uh..."
"I don't mean you."
"Cool."
"You don't count. You're my little brother."
Thanks a lot, Sis.
It's just after eleven, which would be early for Emma to be home even if our parents were here. I guess the night hasn't gone so good.
"Everything okay?"
She shrugs. "Fine."
Obviously it isn't, but I don't push it. I'm still standing so I make a vague gesture with my beer. "You want one of these?"
She thinks for a moment. "Sure."
I walk into the kitchen to get another couple of beers. When I walk back in Emma has a cigarette lit, which is something else Mom and Dad hate.
She looks more pissed off than upset, and the dark makeup around her green eyes is as sharp now as it was earlier, so she hasn't been crying. I'm glad to see that, and reward myself for that moment of brotherly concern with a glance at the thin stream of smoke she blows from her dark red lips.
"I thought you might be out tonight, " she says. I open one of the beers and she takes it with a smile. "You've been seeing that girl who was at your eighteenth, right? Gina?"
"Jenny." I open the other beer for myself and sit back down on the couch. "Yeah, not so much."
"She seems nice." I can't tell if my sister is being sarcastic or not.
"She's not really my type."
Emma leans back and puts her feet up on the coffee table, tapping her nails on the beer bottle. "So what is your type?"
Is she flirting with me?
"Oh, you know... " I say casually, with a hint of a smile.
A pause. "So what have you been doing?"
So, not flirting.
"I was just going to watch a movie."
There's a muffled bleep, and Emma takes her phone out of her jacket pocket and reads whatever message she just received. She scowls and taps out a quick reply, then drops the phone back into her pocket.
"Okay, " she says. "A movie sounds good right now."
Before I can say anything else she stands up and moves over, sitting on the other side of the couch. Picking up the remote that lies between us she turns the TV back on, and we start watching Underworld.
"Wow, I haven't watched this since I was a kid."
"I like it."