Page 66 of More For Me

She points at me. “See, you don’t even know who was there! Silas was not at your party, he just heard about it from his brother. Which you would know if you weren’t totally wasted.”

“I was not wasted.” I was definitely wasted. So wasted I ended up sitting on the floor in the middle of dancing. And then kissed my best friend.

I close my eyes, frustrated. The entire point of coming over here was to distract myself, not think about Bodhi.

“What’s wrong?” Vega asks, peering up at me. “You look sad.”

I smile at my baby sister. I love Vega first thing in the morning. More and more lately it’s becoming obvious that she isn’t a little girl anymore, but when she’s tired and rumpled like this she looks about five years younger. Plus, she’s always been a cuddly morning person. I hope she doesn’t grow out of that any time soon.

“I’m not sad. My brain is just feeling a little buzzy.”

She nods in understanding. All three of my sisters and I have some degree of ADHD. Our mom does, too, though hers is more severe than any of us deal with. The feeling of a buzzy, overwhelmed brain is something all my sisters can relate to.

“Is that why you’re here?” Presley asks, no longer sounding so annoyed with me.

“A little. I also just missed you guys. We haven’t hung out just the four of us in forever. I knew Mom and Dad are out of town, so I thought we could do something.”

Presley studies my face for a long moment and I get the sudden fear that maybe Silas knew about more than my alcohol consumption. Would Will or Wyatt have told their brother about the weird vibe between me and Bodhi or the fact that we left the party to go off together?

“You sure you’re okay?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes. Wanting to hang out with you guys doesn’t make me not okay.”

“Wanting to hang out with Presley definitely makes you not okay,” Vega says, grinning. “She’s hella lame.”

“And you’re unbearably annoying.”

“You know what wouldn’t be lame or annoying?” I ask, wanting to prevent them from getting into a full bickering match.

“Waking up Santana?” Vega asks, and I laugh.

“You totally read my mind.”

“I suppose I can get behind that,” Presley agrees. “We’re jumping on her bed, right?”

“Of course.”

We bounce out of Presley’s room and sneak down the hallway, not wanting to wake up Santana prematurely—that would ruin the fun. Vega eases open the door, peaking into the darkened room, then turns around to grin at us. “On my signal.”

We burst into the room, ready to jump on the bed, but Santana sits up just before we get there, bellowing out a loud “boo!” that makes Vega scream and Presley fall back against me. Santana grins. “You thought you could sneak up on me? Amateurs.”

“That wasmean,” Vega tells her, putting a hand over her heart.

Santana rolls her eyes. “You were literally sneaking in here to scare the hell out of me while I was asleep.”

“Well played.” I go over to the bed and grab Santana’s hands. “Come on. Get up. I’m taking us all out to breakfast.”

“And we’re going out to breakfast at seven-thirty on a Saturday why?”

Because I kissed my best friend last night and I’m freaking out about it and the only way I can think to distract myself is to hang out with my sisters.

“Because I say so.”

She shrugs. “I guess that’s good enough for me. So long as you’re buying.”

“Deal.”

* * *