——Aaron

“Who are you and what are you planning to do with my sister?”

I stopped midway on the front stoop. I glanced at the unconscious body in my arms and to the girl standing in the doorway. She looked like a tiny replica of Sam.

“Who are you?” I needed to be sure if she was related to Sam. So I still asked her.

“I’m the sister of that young lady you are about to take advantage of,” the girl said in a surprisingly calm voice.

“Don’t be silly. Do I look like that kind of guy to you? Look, she’s sick. Where’s her room?” I was starting to struggle with Sam’s weight.

Her left eyebrow rose. “Oh. She’s unconscious. Did you drug her? You did, didn’t you?” she said accusingly, jabbing her finger at me.

I shifted Sam’s weight and sighed, getting annoyed. As the youngest son myself, I never got to deal with brats like her. “Listen little one, I have a hot girlfriend, and your sister isn’t my type. I just need to bring her inside, and I’ll be gone. You can take care of her all by yourself.”

“It’s starting to rain again.” The rain had indeed started to shower heavily again. “Come in.”

“What’s your name?” I asked her as I quickly followed her inside the house.

“Christie.”

I felt Sam shaking again in my arms. My mind was racing as I climbed the stairs, not far behind Christie. Carrying Sam’s wet and comatose body wasn't how I wanted to spend my Friday night. But, I couldn’t be sure if leaving Sam’s younger sister to tend to her would be a good idea.

I heard Sam moan in my arms.

Christie stopped and opened the door to my right. “This is her room.”

I flipped the light switch and carefully placed Sam down on her bed. She was still trembling, looking so pale and delicate. I turned to Christie. “Are you allowed to boil water?”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Duh! I can even cook. I’m ten, not five.” She rolled her eyes once more before leaving.

I gently placed my palm on Sam’s forehead. Shit. She was burning. I started to panic. Maybe I should remove her wet clothes first. Her white shirt was so thin that her black bra was effortlessly visible.

Another crack of thunder and a bolt of lightning shot across the sky. I rushed to pull the blinds down. I looked around and quickly dug through Sam’s closet for clothes dry. I found her an oversized white shirt that said The Killers on the front, and gray sweatpants.

“Mmmm…” She moaned again.

My cold hands reached for her wet shirt to pull it off her, and then stopped seeing her flat stomach. I gazed at it for a few seconds before my fingertips softly touched the cold, pale skin, tracing her defined lines.

She moaned against my touch. “Cold…”

My eyes moved up and settled on her dry lips as my mind recalled our kiss. It wasn’t meant to be good. It was meant to teach her a lesson. I am not gay, and she had to know that. I took a deep breath and brushed the image off to concentrate on the situation in front of me. But, that was it; I was having a tiny bit of an issue dealing with the current situation. I wasn’t prepared for it. My stomach felt funny looking at her that vulnerable. And I could feel my manhood—

No!

I stood up and shook my head to get rid of the thoughts polluting my mind. I raced to the kitchen before I lose control and give in to the bad thoughts forming inside my head.

“Hey, little girl, let’s exchange duties, you go upstairs and help your sister while I boil the water. Make sure she’s dry. Keep her warm.”

Christie smirked. “The temptation is strong, huh?”

My eyes furrowed. “Why do you talk like that? You’re just ten.”

She was unbelievable.

“Believe me, I have been asked that question so many times.” She didn’t wait for me to say something and left the kitchen singing, Let it go! Let it go! I’m one with the wind and sky.

* * *

—6:45 PM

I never spent so much time in my kitchen. I didn’t have too since I usually have my breakfast prepared for me. The kitchen was a galley type and didn’t offer much space.

“Are you like popular in your school?” Christie asked when she joined me in the kitchen, taking a seat opposite me.

“What do you think?” I turned to the pot on the burner, feeling a little bit more impatient by the second now.

Christie shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

She paused for a moment and then slowly shook her head. “No, it’s not obvious. That’s why I’m asking.”

And just like Sam, Christie too had a knack for being annoying. “You gotta be kidding me. Okay, let me just tell you that your sister has the biggest crush on me.” I declared boastfully.

“Sure?” Her eyes widened, but the expression on her face spat doubt. What is wrong with this kid?

“Yes.”

“I know all the guys that Sam liked in her life. There were only two of them: the weird ex-boyfriend and the homosexual friend. And, you’re not her type,” she told me right after giving me a somewhat head-to-toe assessment.

“Homosexual friend? And what do you mean I’m not her type?”

She suddenly laughed at me. “Yes. My sister only falls for someone who loves to talk about noble gases and uses words like fatuous and zeugma.”

“Noble what?” And did she just speak in Latin?

“Gases, duh. And she prefers a long, boring speech about democratic socialism over biceps and make-up tutorials. And I don’t think you’re that kind of guy.”

I’m now convinced she’s not ten years old. “Whatever. Why don’t you go and check on your sister?”

She got off the counter stool and grinned. “If you like her though, you should impress her with your GPA.”

“Go!”

Her laughter trailed off. What an annoying kid.

* * *

—7:55 PM

The rain outside had finally slowed to a soft sprinkle, but I was still at Sam’s, trapped by a responsibility that I had foolishly got for myself. I only left my house a couple of hours ago because Sam didn’t show up to tutor me. I only drove to her house to intimidate her—not to tend to her.

I looked down at the stainless steel washbowl I was carrying and felt dejected. Carefully, I placed the bowl on the bedside table then checked Sam’s temperature with the back of my hand. She was still hot. The medicine I told Christie to give her should kick in soon.

I let out a heavy sigh and slowly peeled the thick blanket wrapped around her. She instantly quivered. With caution, I soaked the washcloth that Christie prepared for me with cold water.

I once saw mom did the same thing when my older brother, Matthew, got sick. But, I never had the chance to do a return demonstration.

I squeezed the excess water and started to wipe the damp washcloth against Sam’s skin. I started with her extremities; stroking outward, patting the arm from her shoulder down to her hand.

I heard her moaned. Her eyes still shut.

While my hands were doing the work, my eyes surveyed Sam’s bare neck, her calm face, natural thick lashes, and her surprisingly nicely outlined cheekbones. I never noticed all of it before, and it was like looking at her for the first time. And then her lips caught my eyes. Those pale, plump lips.

Fuck it. I felt it again.

I heard Sam let out a muffled groan as soon as I pressed the washcloth lightly on the side of her neck. The moaning and the slightly exposed collarbone weren’t helping my current circumstance. The sudden awareness was tormenting me.

Before I knew it and could even prevent it, my mind drifted off to the kiss.

Shit.

There’s that weird sensation in the pit of my stomach again. However, it was strong and more in control of me this time. And like any other regular guy chained to his human nature, I slowly leaned closer to Sam, giving in to the strange aching inside me. My lips were already close to touching her when the door swung open.

“What are you doing?”

I jumped and pulled back. My hand clumsily caught the washbowl, and it landed on me first, spilling the cold, before it noisily landed on the floor. My heart stopped beating for a second.

Christie walked into the room and placed the beetroot juice on the bedside table

“What were you trying to do?” I felt my cheeks burned as she questioned me with her accusing eyes.

“Look what you’ve done!” I exclaimed, pointing at my wet shirt. I desperately needed her to turn her attention to me and forget what she saw that I was about to do.

Sam interrupted us momentarily with another moan. We watched her gently blink twice before burying herself in the blanket.

“Were you trying to kiss her?” Christie asked, and my face went red in an instant.

“Kiss your sister? You’re ten. Do you even know what that word means?” I quickly stood up and walked over to the window.

Christie drew in a breath sharply. “I am ten years old, but I’m not from another planet. Of course, I know what a kiss means.”

“I was just trying to reach out for her left arm.” I hissed. I was never embarrassed by a ten-year-old before. Or anyone for that matter. “And I need a shirt. Look at me. I’m soaking wet. I’ll borrow one of your dad’s. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“He won’t. He’s dead.” Christie answered bluntly. “But we gave away his clothes. So, I’ll see what I can find.” She quickly went over to the drawer in the corner.

I didn’t know Sam’s dad was dead. And despite my currently awkward situation, I felt sorry for them. How Christie had casually and openly talked about her dad being dead was pretty creepy. Or maybe they had just accepted that Mr. Banks was dead. But, how long did it take for their family to accept his death and finally move on?

I glanced at Sam. I never really knew anything about her until the past few weeks. Before the kiss she stole from me, she had only existed in my world as the obnoxious girl from the back of the class, who never seemed to get tired raising her hand and participating in every classroom discussion. We had several classes together since freshman, year but I never really spoken to her then.

I looked around in her room. It wasn’t as spacious or as big as my room, but it was sufficient. It had a small study table by the window. Rainbow-colored quilts scattered on top of her bed, stuffed plush toys of famous Marvel characters sitting on the low chair near the study table. There were pictures on the sides of her full-length mirror: her friend, Chloe, and that guy from the Tutors Club, Bruce and another guy I didn’t know who.

“Here.” I looked down and took the yellow shirt from Christie’s hand.

“What’s this?” I asked in horror. It was an ugly shirt. There was no other way to describe it.

“A t-shirt. Duh.” She rolled her eyes.

“Are you trying to make fun of me?” I waved the shirt in front of her. “And who the hell is this on the front?”

“Oh, that’s Dora the Explorer. She’s Spanish. De nada, mi amigo.” She gave me her sweetest, mocking smile.

“Do you expect me to wear this? Do you even think this would fit me?”

“Hey, that’s the largest shirt I can find in Sam’s drawer. That’s her shirt when she gained extra weight. My mom doesn’t have any large-sized shirts, so I grabbed that.”

I was speechless with her reason and stood there for a moment, convincing myself not to get into an argument with a kid.

“Aaron, it’s not like there are other people here. Take off your shirt and wear that. Or don’t and prepare yourself to get sick.”

I shook my head. I cared for her sister, and this was how she was paying me for my kindness. My wet shirt had started to feel itchy against my skin. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I made spaghetti.” She grinned and left singing…

Come on, vamonos

Everybody let’s go

Come on let’s get to it

I know that we can do it

I shook my head again in disbelief. Just like her older sister, Christie was such a pain in the ass, too.