Spring Fling

by Claudia Burgoa

  * * *

  See you on the other side! < 3

  Contents

  Natalie

  About the Author

  Natalie

  My suitcase weighed about one hundred pounds. That estimation could be a slight exaggeration, but my back thought it was pretty freaking accurate as I dragged it through the airport after nearly killing myself getting it off the conveyor belt.

  If it weren’t for some sympathetic man standing there watching, I probably would be dead right now.

  One of the wheels on the bottom was wonky and had a chunk missing out of it (true story), which made me look sort of like a hunchback as I hunkered down to heave it along.

  It would all be worth it, though. Catching an earlier flight home to surprise everyone was definitely worth staying up all night, sitting next to a man who thought I was his personal pillow, and having no one here to handle this beast of a suitcase.

  I was going to grab a cab home, let myself in to my parents’ place, and surprise everyone with breakfast. I couldn’t wait to see the delight on their faces when they found out I was already home and no one had to bother fetching me from the airport.

  No one liked coming to the airport. Especially in winter when there was partially melted snow on the ground, grumpy holiday travelers, and the same three Christmas carols playing over the loud speakers literally everywhere.

  I was looking forward to winter break this year. I hadn’t been home since the semester started months ago. I loved attending the University of North Carolina, but sometimes I got a little homesick.

  This year for Christmas, we were all going to be home, just like when we were younger. Me, my parents, grandparents, and Lauren. Lauren was not only my big sister, but my best friend. I couldn’t wait to make a big bowl of popcorn and settle on the couch to watch cheesy made-for-TV holiday movies with her.

  Outside, the air was frosty, and my sneakers slipped on the layer of black ice covering the pavement. The cab driver didn’t seem to see or care about the wintry road conditions as he sped over the road, and I spent the entire time in the backseat clinging to the door handle and praying I didn’t die.

  If this trip kept up this way, I was going to run out of lives before I even got to the driveway.

  When at last he turned onto my parents’ street and pulled up to the large brick home lined with colorful string lights, I breathed an epic sigh of relief. My sister’s car was in the driveway, covered with a layer of ice and snow.

  Typing in the keycode on the side of the garage door, I waited as the door slid up soundlessly. The suitcase wobbled and squeaked as I went past my parents’ SUVs and toward the door leading into the house.

  The familiar scent that was my childhood home met me at the door, making me smile. All the homesickness I’d felt the past few weeks disintegrated. My suitcase fell over while I was taking off my shoes, and I left it there because really, I’d just had enough of it.

  The large pine tree was in the center of the family room, the lights still on from the night before. Drawn to it, I perused all the homemade ornaments my mom still had from me and my sister.

  The house was quiet. Everyone was still in bed, so I headed for the stairs to get started on breakfast in the kitchen.

  Halfway up the first flight, I paused and turned back. Grinning to myself, I snuck back down and over to my sister’s bedroom door. I’d wake her up and make her help. Pushing the door open, I crept inside the dim, familiar room. Even though we were both currently away at college, our parents left our bedrooms just as they had been before we left.

  I knew this room almost as well as my own. I could walk through it completely blindfolded and not trip over a thing.

  As I walked, my foot hit something, throwing me off balance, sending me sprawling on the floor.

  Do you know what that was?

  Karma. For boasting I could walk around blindfolded.

  Touché.

  Grunting, I glanced down to see the sneaker lying in the middle of the floor. It was huge, clearly a man’s shoe… and, therefore, not my sister’s. There were also various other articles of clothing strewn about: a pair of jeans, a single sock… her bra.

  A sly smile pulled at my lips. Did she bring home Kyle for the holidays? Were things that serious between them?

  What if they got married?

  My sister marrying my first crush? The thought was far too weird. It was already weird enough that she’d been dating him for over a year.

  Abandoning those thoughts, I tossed the shoe aside and glanced over at the bed. An arm fell over the side of the mattress, the large hand looking a little familiar.

  Glancing back at the shoe, I felt another sense of familiarity. I only knew one guy who wore such a large shoe… and it wasn’t Kyle.

  I must be delirious from lack of sleep. The stress of finals, rushing home to surprise everyone… It was starting to take a toll.

  Pushing to my hands and knees, I crawled across the carpeting, still focused on the hand dangling toward the floor. When I was close enough, I leaned in, studying the hand as if it were some kind of rare find.

  Stomach twisting, I rose, squeezing my eyes shut as I went.

  The bed was a mess of tangled blankets and sheets. My sister lay among them, her blond hair wild like she’d spent the entire night rolling around with someone’s hands in it. Her cheek was lying against a shoulder that also was very familiar.

  I shook my head, denying the sick feeling rising inside me. Forcing myself to look away from her long, slender arm, which was draped over a naked, male chest, I averted them toward the man she was sleeping.

  Please be Kyle. Please be Kyle.

  It wasn’t.

  Bile rose up the back of my throat, burning and making me gag. My heart beat so quickly it was painful, or maybe what hurt was the betrayal.

  That wasn’t my sister’s boyfriend in her bed.

  It was mine.

  Brad Stacy, my high school sweetheart, my boyfriend of almost four years. The only boyfriend I’d ever had.

  Shock rendered me immobile, and the only thing worse than seeing my naked sister in bed with my boyfriend was being so paralyzed by disbelief that I couldn’t run.

  I stood there shackled by betrayal, staring at how comfortable they appeared. Like this wasn’t the first time. Like they’d done this before.

  I don’t know how long I stared, but when my sister made a soft sound and snuggled closer against him, something inside me flipped.

  At my sides, my hands balled into fists. The sudden urge to grab her by the hair and yank her sleeping, betraying naked butt out of that bed was so strong I actually leaned forward.

  In my head, I could hear her scream with surprise, then scream again in fear when she saw me there.

  My sister. The girl who used to braid my hair and keep people from picking on me in school. How could she?

  Hot tears stung the backs of my eyes. When I tried to blink them back, they only fell, rolling over my cheeks.

  My attention turned to Brad. I’d just talked to him last night. He’d said how excited he was to see me when I got here the next night. I’d almost confessed I was boarding a plane just then, but I’d kept it in… thinking he would love the surprise.

  Turns out the one who got the surprise was me.

  White-hot rage ripped through me like a wildfire, and I embraced it. It was a hell of a lot more bearable than the stabbing pain I’d just been introduced to.

  Unfrozen from the spot beside the bed, I stomped over, grabbed Brad’s jeans off the floor, and threw them at his head. The fabric hit him with a sharp slap, part of it hitting my sister as well.

  “What the—” he exclaimed, instantly brought out of sleep. Grabbing the jeans, which were covering his face, he flung them away.

  Our eyes locked.

  His widened about three times their normal size. “Natalie,” he whispered.

  “Oh, you remember me?” I spat.

  My sister bolted upright, gr
abbing the sheet and clutching it to her naked chest. “Nat!” she exclaimed. “You’re here!”

  “Obviously, you weren’t expecting me until after my boyfriend went home and you took a shower to wash him off you.”

  “I can explain.” Brad started, throwing back the covers to leap out of the bed.

  My gaze dropped to his naked crotch and the dick I honestly thought was for my eyes only.

  Stupid, Natalie. You are stupid.

  “I’m pretty sure that says it all,” I quipped, staring blatantly at his nakedness.

  Lauren groaned. “Oh, Nat, I’m so sorry! Please forgive us. I wanted to tell you.”

  All the anger I felt quieted like a boiling pot suddenly set to simmer. Have you ever noticed how a simmering pot seems much deadlier than one at a rolling boil? Probably because at simmer, it has more hidden lethal potential.

  “How long?” I asked, quiet.

  Brad’s face paled as he frantically reached for the jeans I’d just hit him with.

  “Don’t cover up on my account. I’ve already seen it all.”

  A choking sound strangled his throat, and Lauren gasped.

  “How long?” I repeated.

  “A while,” Brad choked out.

  There it was again—that white-hot rage—bubbling up and making me lose control. Lunging, I grabbed the shoe I’d fallen over and hurled it at him. Then I picked up the other and threw it, too.

  “Nat, stop!” Lauren yelled, climbing out of bed and reaching for the first article of clothing she could find.

  It was Brad’s T-shirt. The one I’d given him for his birthday.

  “How could you do this?” I yelled, my voice shrill. I guess Mom and Dad weren’t getting breakfast from me this morning after all. Instead, they were getting a family feud.

  “It just happened. We—” Brad tried.

  I stomped around the bed, my sister watching warily. “Why?” I demanded. Then much louder, I yelled it again, “Why!”

  “I’m in love with him,” she confessed, her voice quiet and afraid.

  Crack! The sound of my palm slapping my sister’s face was distinct and loud.

  Lauren fell across the bed, clutching her cheek, sobbing as though it was her who’d been wronged.

  “Natalie!” Brad roared, leaping over the bed and grabbing me by the shoulders. Giving me a shake, he fumed. “How could you? How could you do that to your own sister?”

  When I looked up at him, more tears fell over my face. I wanted to crumble. I wanted to shrivel up and die. “That’s what I want to know,” I said, voice wobbly. “How could she? How could you?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I—”

  My parents burst into the bedroom, both of them looking half asleep, their robes tied crookedly. “What’s going on?” Dad worried. “We heard yelling.”

  “Natalie!” Mom said, voice tinged with the hint of happy surprise I’d expected when I came here.

  My parents’ faces changed when they realized what it was they’d just walked in on.

  “Brad?” Mom whispered, clutching her throat. “What are you doing here?”

  “Merry Christmas, Mom, Dad.” I laughed without humor. “Lauren’s been screwing Brad behind my back.”

  * * *

  Six months later…

  * * *

  I got a new suitcase. Not only was my previous one ghetto to the core, but it was now also a clear reminder of the most horrific moment of my life.

  But don’t worry. That heinous moment of seeing my love of four years and my sister naked in bed together was about to be upstaged.

  By their wedding.

  Yep, that’s right, folks. My whore of a sister was marrying my ex-boyfriend.

  Don’t be getting all offended I called her a whore either. I’d earned that right. She’d earned a lot worse, but here she was, a pillar of bridal bliss the week before her dream wedding in paradise.

  Did I say her dream wedding?

  I meant mine.

  Yeah, not only did she steal my groom, but she also hijacked St. Thomas, the only place I’d ever wanted to get married. I’d accuse her of combing through my Pinterest boards, but she wouldn’t have to. Up until six months ago, we’d been so close she didn’t need to look at any of my saved pins because she knew everything.

  Six months.

  Brad and my sister had been dating for all of six months, and here I was, boarding a plane to their destination wedding. I’d dated him for four years, and we’d never even talked about getting engaged.

  One night over a “nice” family meal, which my mom forced upon us, I went ahead and asked what everyone else was thinking.

  “Are you pregnant?” I’d said over fettucine and breadsticks.

  My dad started choking, my mom turned beet red, and Brad ordered another beer.

  “Of course not!” Lauren admonished. I watched her hand slide over to Brad’s thigh under the table, and the food in my mouth turned to sawdust. “We’re just so in love.”

  At least Brad had the decency to look embarrassed when she did shit like this in front of me. But Lauren? It was like I’d just met her instead of knowing her from the day I was born.

  “I booked you a nice appointment at the spa when we arrive,” Mom said, sitting in the seat beside me. “I read the resort has one of the best there is.”

  “You don’t have to bribe me, Mom,” I told her. “I’m already on the plane.”

  Mom glanced up the aisle into first class where Lauren and Brad were sitting. My parents and I were back here in sardine hell. Oh, I mean in coach.

  The lovebirds’ upgraded seats were courtesy of Brad’s parents. The ones I’d spent holidays and birthdays with every year since I was sixteen.

  They pretended like I wasn’t alive now. Everything was all about Lauren, their blond-haired, green-eyed, medical student soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

  “I know this must be so hard for you, sweetheart. But I’m just so proud of you for being the bigger person and putting family first.”

  “You told me I had to come,” I deadpanned.

  “Family is family.” Mom sniffed. “She’s your sister, and I will not have you miss the most important day of her life.”

  Even if it’s my most painful?

  I didn’t bother saying it out loud. There was no use. It was made clear to me as soon as the wedding plans started that I was expected to show up and smile. Dad’s business partners would be there and so would Brad’s parents. Brad’s dad happened to be the director of one of the best hospitals in our hometown, and obviously, my sister wanted to look good so she could get a job there once she was in residency.

  All of this just thrilled my mother because that meant my sister would be moving back to our hometown to work and live… and produce grandchildren.

  “Do I really have to be maid of honor?” I asked for like the thousandth time.

  “What would people say if you weren’t? You two were inseparable almost all your lives.”

  “Maybe people would understand because I caught her doing the deed with my boyfriend.”

  “Don’t be so crude!” Mom scolded. “And don’t be saying anything like that in St. Thomas.”

  Digging out my earbuds, I shoved them into my ears and pretended to turn on some music. I wasn’t interested in a replay of practically every conversation I’d had with my mother for the past six months.

  My whole life, I never really felt like my parents played favorites. Until this. Sure, they were scandalized when they walked in and saw Lauren in bed with Brad, but after the shock wore off and Lauren cried her apologetic tears, everything went back to normal. And I was expected to do the same.

  It would be nice to feel like there was someone on my side and my side only. But when the plane reached its cruising altitude, I gazed out over the marshmallow-like clouds and knew that was merely wishful thinking.

  * * *

  * * *

  The resort was incredible. So incredible that the second we arrived, the
significant stress I’d been smothered under began to lift. St. Thomas was just as spectacular as it looked in pictures. It truly felt like a slice of paradise sparkling beneath a golden sun and surrounded by turquoise water I’d only ever seen on TV.

  With my room key in hand, I hoped to quickly make it upstairs before running into the many wedding guests who would also be checking in today. I might have to be here, but that didn’t mean I had to subject myself to the event twenty-four-seven.

  A balmy, tropical breeze blew through the reception area, courtesy of the large open doors leading out onto what looked like stunning resort grounds. Forgetting I was in a rush, I wandered closer, drawn by the swaying palm trees, melodic birds, and soft sounds of a waterfall somewhere close by.

  Incredible seemed like a lackluster description of the view, but it was all I had. Parking my suitcase beside me, I leaned against a giant white pillar, gazing out over paradise.

  I guess if you have to endure this wedding, being here makes it a little more tolerable.

  A familiar giggle and deep chuckle made me tense up, and all the stress relief I’d gained suddenly blew away. Pushing off the pillar, I looked around, seeing Lauren and Brad stepping out of the reception area into the sun.

  Her long blond hair was perfectly sleek and shiny. The tan I knew she paid for made her look like she’d already been here for a week, and the loose dress she wore blew back against her body in the wind, accentuating her slim figure.

  Brad was so tall he towered over her, and the hand wrapped around her shoulder looked like it could swallow her whole. His brown hair was shorter than he used to wear it, but his brown eyes were the same.

  “Nat,” Lauren said, pausing on their way by.

  Brad offered a small smile, but I ignored him.

  “Isn’t this place stunning?” she gushed, as if everything between us were normal. “I can’t believe I’m getting married!”

  Have you ever looked at a person and seriously wondered who they were? Like was Lauren always this way and I was too blinded by sisterly love to notice, or did something in her change?