I wet my lips with my tongue. “I like a challenge.”
She wiggles her fingers over her shoulder. “Good luck, Gatsby.”
1
Cree
“Do you smell that?” My sister stands beside me on the sidewalk, inhaling deep breaths of air.
My brows furrow as I look down at her. “The promise of too much alcohol and debauchery?”
She rubs her hands together, looking a little too eager for a freshman. “That too—but mostly freedom.”
“Millie! How much did you pack?” Our dad’s voice interrupts us, and she turns to where he’s standing behind the small moving truck, packed to the brim with her stuff.
The off-campus house my parents bought when I started college, stands in front of us looking a little too picturesque to be in a neighborhood filled with other college kids. It’s white, with stately columns, and a wraparound porch that extends to the second floor as well.
“Dad,” Millie heads away from me and to his side, “this is my first year, I needed a lot of stuff. Remember when Cree first moved in? He had even more stuff because the whole house was empty. What I have in comparison to that is really nothing. You should be proud.”
My mom pulls up then, parking on the street and hops out with a fresh coffee in one hand and a paper bag in the other. She passes the bag to me, and I peek inside, finding it filled with muffins. I devour one in practically two bites. I’m starving. Then again, I’m always hungry, so it’s not new.
“Let’s help your father, shall we?” She smiles at me, eyes the same color as mine crinkle at the corners. She takes the bag back to pass it to Dad and Millie.
It takes hours to get everything brought in and set up for Millie.
I can’t even gripe because she really didn’t overpack, but building furniture for her room while my dad mumbles about lost screws and holes not fitting right—had to snicker at that one—made things drag on.
Millie’s room is down the hall from mine on the opposite side beside what was my friend Murray’s room, but since he graduated, it’ll now be my friend Jude’s room, with a shared bathroom between them. I have the master and the room beside me is Daire’s.
It’s late by the time we get Millie’s room done and order pizza since none of us feel like cooking—not to mention that would require a run to the grocery store.
We hang out in the family room, the pizza on the coffee table as we all sit around it. Dad has his arm around mom, rubbing her shoulder. He looks at her adoringly, like he’s still in the honeymoon phase despite the fact they’ve been together for thirty years. Sometimes my sister and I pretend to be grossed out by them, but I know we’re both thankful to have parents who love each other like that.
“How are you feeling, Mills?” My mom eyes my sister across from her. I can tell she’s worried about her youngest kid going off to college. I’m not a parent yet, not even close to being ready to be one either, but I can imagine it’s a strange feeling watching your youngest kid leave the nest.
“I’m excited.” Millie bounces where she sits. She’s always had a hard time sitting still. “I’ve been looking forward to college for forever.”
My mom gives a laugh, shaking her head. “It’s not all fun and games, sweetie. You have to do schoolwork too.”
“And no getting pregnant,” my dad adds.
“Dad!” Millie cries, her cheeks turning red. “Shut up!” She pretends to gag.
“All I’m saying is, I’m too young to be a grandpa.”
“Leave her alone,” mom admonishes, smacking him lightly in the stomach, “you don’t say this stuff to Cree.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” Then he turns to me with a serious look, “Don’t get a girl pregnant.”
Now we’re all groaning at him. “Dad, trust me I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
I’ve had sex one time in the past year. Mind-blowing, out of this world, never going to forget it sex—but damn if I haven’t been disappointed, I never found ‘Daisy’ again.
“Enough of this talk.” My mom stands with her plate. “I’m exhausted and heading to bed. We need to hit the road early in the morning.” She taps my dad’s shoulder.
He rubs a hand over his tired face. “Right.”
“Don’t worry about cleaning up. Mills and I can handle it.”
“Are you sure?” Mom hesitates, eyes bouncing between the stairs and the mess.
“Of course, Mom.”
“All right.” She passes me her plate and my dad does the same.
They head up to bed—they’ll be staying in my room tonight, and I’ll be taking Daire’s since he’s not here yet.
Grabbing another slice of pizza, I eye my little sister. “How do you really feel about school?”
“Excited,” she repeats, “and a little nervous.”
I chuckle. “You’re going to do fine.”
“I know.” She nibbles on the end of her pizza crust. “It’s a different world than high school, though.”
“I’ll look out for you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” She sticks her tongue out.
I poke her cheek, making her giggle. Most guys would probably be pissed they’re forced to live with their little sister for their senior year, but Millie and I have always been close. Leaving for university was an adjustment at first for me. Our family has always been close, and suddenly, I was on my own.
Millie stands, gathering up some of the trash. “Don’t worry, big bro. I’m going to be just fine.”
I shake my head, trying to hide my amusement. “You think so?”
“Pssh, I know so.”
Our parents left at the crack of dawn to head back to Massachusetts which left the two of us to wash the sheets and get things back in order. The house was cleaned once a week by a maid over the summer, so things aren’t in too bad of shape which is nice, but Daire should be getting in sometime today and Jude has to move in too.
“I can’t believe I’m going to be living with a houseful of dudes,” Millie grumbles good-naturedly, helping me put clean sheets on Daire’s bed since I crashed in here last night. “What was I thinking?”
“That you wouldn’t have to live in a dorm room?”
“That,” she agrees, snapping a corner into place, “and the closet space.”
I chuckle, grabbing the comforter. “Mills, you don’t even have that many clothes.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want space for them.”
I shake my head.
Sisters.
We finish with Daire’s bed and then I move onto mine, sending her to answer the door when the doorbell rings.
She comes back a minute later, snickering at my Spiderman bed sheets. I ignore her amusement. “Who’s your hot friend that’s moving in?”
“Excuse me?” I arch a brow.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m eighteen with a pulse, Cree. Give me a break.”
“He didn’t introduce himself?”