Page 65 of More For Me

Everly

My sister doesn’t even stir when I throw the door to her bedroom open. “Morning, Pres,” I call, going straight to the window to pull open the shades. “Rise and shine, little sister.”

“Go ‘way,” she grumbles from deep under the covers.

“No can do.” I jump up onto her bed and stretch out, tugging on the top quilt in an attempt to get to her face. “Wake up.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she groans, slapping my hands away. “Why are you even here?”

“Because I miss your smiling, sunshiney disposition.”

She shoves her head under a pillow. “You have the wrong room. If you want sunshine, Santana is down the hall.”

“Oh, I’ll get to her next. I needed a head start with you, since you’re such a sweet peach in the morning.” I pull the pillow away and she groans in protest. Her hair—slightly lighter brown than mine but every bit as curly—is a mess of snarled waves over her face. I brush away a few strands and finally see one blue eye glaring at me. “There’s that Presley smile I was looking for.”

“There’s something wrong with you,” she says, trying to smack my hands away from her hair. “Go back to your own house.”

“Pres,” I whine. “I miss you. Come hang out with me.”

“Who’s making all the noise?” Vega asks from the doorway. Her face crinkles up when she sees me. “What are you doing here?”

“Nice welcome,” I grouse. “How about, ‘omg, Lele, my favorite sister! I missed you so much!’”

“You slept here like, two days ago,” she says through a yawn. But she walks over to the bed and jumps up with us, snuggling into my shoulder. “Why are you here so early.”

“What time is it?” Presley asks, fumbling around on her nightstand for her phone.

“It’s not that early,” I start, but Presley lets out an outraged shriek. “It’s seven in the morning!”

“It’s nearly eight,” I argue.

“It’s seven twenty-two,” she shoots back. “What in the hell are you doing waking me up at seven twenty-two on a Saturday?”

“She’s just grumpy because she had to cancel a date last night,” Vega tells me. “Mom and Dad are in Sacramento for some charity thing so they said she had to stay home with me instead of going off to make out withRyan.”

I feel my body go tense, memories of the night before crashing through me.We’re not thinking about that yet,I remind myself, for about the twentieth time since I woke up an hour and a half ago.We’re going to think about that later. Way later.

“Ryan, huh?” I ask Presley, doing my best to keep my voice light and teasing. “Who is this guy? Why haven’t I met him yet?”

“Because you’re a psychopath,” she mutters. “Will you both please get out of my bed so I can go back to sleep?”

“Will you talk to Mom and Dad?” Vega asks me, ignoring Pres. “It’s ridiculous that they think I need a babysitter. I’m not a little kid!”

“They don’t think you need a babysitter.” I tuck a loose curl behind her ear. “They just don’t want you on your own overnight.”

She scowls at me. “I could have come over to your house but apparently I wasn’t invited to the party.”

“Hey, why aren’t you hungover?” Presley asks, suddenly awake enough to sit up.

“Why would I be hungover?” I was feeling pretty hungover when I woke up this morning, but the sight of Bodhi sleeping next to me and the memory of what I did cleared my head real fast. After calling an Uber to take me back to his parents’ street to get my car, I spent the last hour driving around aimlessly, chugging coffee from Starbucks.

Presley smirks. “I heard you were pretty wasted.”

“I was not wasted,” I say, avoiding her eyes. “I don’t get wasted. I get delightfully tipsy.”

She snorts. “That’s not what Silas said.”

“Silas was there?” I gasp.