Page 31 of The Wrong Sister
“I do. I like lifting. I like how I feel after. And nothing clears my mind better than a good workout.”
“That must be why your body is so sexy.” He pulls on a shirt and grabs what looks like a gym bag. “Not to objectify you more, but I like that you look strong.”
I blush. “That’s not the usual feedback I get.”
“Guys have negative things to say about the way you look?” He looks pissed, which warms me right to my core. I mean, I don’t need anyone to fight my battles for me, but having someone want to? I might need to fan myself theatrically.
“Of course! I’m pint-sized, fun-sized, smol, too muscley to be feminine… I’ve heard it all. Your almost barrage of compliments has had me teetering on the edge of uncomfortable. Don’t get me wrong, it’s crazy and incredible that you think I’m attractive! But I’m not used to all the flattery.”
“I’m sorry that I’ve made you uncomfortable.” He steps around the bed, pulling me against his body. “You should probably get used to it, though. I’m super into your body. From your little feet to your toned muscles, all the way up to your bad-ass haircut. I like your nose rings and your curves and the way your nostrils flare when you’re angry. And I try to be vocal about what I like. Mom drilled it into us that people should hear more good about themselves than bad.”
“Hmmm. She’s the best. I’ll try my hardest to accept your compliments graciously. It’s nice to be appreciated.”
He traces the tattoo on the inside of my arm, the pads of his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I meant to ask before: what’s the significance?”
The tattoo is simple in its design but incredibly meaningful to me. It’s a clean, black line outline of mountains, meant to look like the Ko‘olaus and a volcano. There are red lines, for lava, but they’re merely thin, minimalist outlines as well. Underneath the volcano, the lava becomes a feminine script that reads “manawahine.”
“Do you remember Auntie Lolo?”
“From the corner house? You were close, ya?”
“She mentored me. I was at such a turning point in my life. I was angry all the time, unsure of myself, and she saw something in me and helped me bring it out. She told me I could harness my anger like Pele and beManawahine, with righteous anger to make the world around me better. I want, sometimesneed, the physical reminder of who I’m meant to be.”
“I love that. It’s a sentiment I understand, the needing to remember.” He runs his fingers over it again, studying closely, before taking my hand.
Griffin holds my hand as we walk down to street level. It surprises me how much I like it. It feels…right. I’ve never been much of a hand holder. I’m used to pushing ahead, taking charge, and walking fast. This simple affection is giving me all the feels. And I don’t know what to do with them. I’ve always been solidly in Camp Avoid the Feels. We get to the corner and have to stand, waiting for a break in the bustle of cars to cross to my block. Griffin crouches down in front of me, tossing his voice over his shoulder.
“Hop on!”
I don’t even think about it, I just jump. He stands up, holding me piggyback, and runs across the street. His long legs make much faster progress than mine would have. I’m clutching his shoulders, laughing loudly. We probably look ridiculous but I could not care less. Instead of putting me down he takes us into the elevator and jogs out when the doors open with me still laughing gleefully on his back. It’s silly and fun. Clear of the elevator, we see Rafferty standing at my door. I grin at him, happy to see him and Griffin stops in the middle of the hallway. His hands are no longer gripping my legs so I slide off.
“Hey, Raff!” I call, walking towards him before I realize Griffin is still standing, immobile, where I left him.
“Morning, Meens. What are you two up to? I texted but you didn’t respond so I thought I’d stop by.” He smiles easily, looking down at me. “Yikes. Are you not wearing a bra?”
I unlock my door, ignoring Raff, as Griff makes a weird choking sound behind me. “None of your business, asshole. Stop looking at my tits!”
“I wasn’t trying to! They’re right there!”
I turn, my door partially open, and Griff is still standing in the hallway. He’s staring at Rafferty, looking weird and frozen. I swivel to look at Raff and he is staring at his brother, confused, but being far less weird. It hits me that Griffin hasn’t looked at me once. He hasn’t acknowledged that we walked up together or that we were intending to go into my apartment, together. What the fuck? Is he embarrassed to be seen with me?
“Griff?” He is still like a block of ice, not meeting my eyes or answering me. “Griffin?” My anger bubbles up like magma becoming lava. I look at Griffin one last time, my heart hardening and the fury taking over.
“FUCK. THIS.” I shoot daggers at Rafferty, even though he hasn’t done anything, clenching my jaw, then march into my apartment, slamming the door behind me.
20
rafferty
Mina slammed the door in my face. I get the vibe that it wasn’t about me at all, but still. Some shit has gone down this weekend and I was totally unaware. I came by to talk to Meens about my own drama. No time for that now. I look at my brother who at least has the decency to look shocked instead of merely frozen.
“Stay here, asshat. I’ll deal with you in a minute.” I pull out my key and let myself in. I think breaking our rules is called for in this instance.
“Mina!” I call from the doorway. “Are you ok? Did you maybe put a bra on in that last 30 seconds, for the sake of my delicate eyes?” I hear muffled noise from the bedroom. I’ll pretend that was her giving me permission to come in. I know Mina well enough to know she isn’t likely to be crying. Sure enough, I poke my head into her bedroom and she’s screaming into a pillow. “That’s thoughtful. I bet your neighbors appreciate your foresight.”
She pulls her face out of the pillow, glaring at me. “What are you doing in here?”
“I wanted to make sure you were alright. I don’t know what I stumbled on, but all that was missing was some flashy telenovela camerawork to heighten the drama. What did he do?”
