"Come on. Get up. Get up. Get up." Portia woke me by bouncing on my bed in animation. Her dark hair flew around her, blocking her face from view, but her voice gave away her excitement.
"God. What time is it?" I pressed the heel of my hands into my eyes and tried to rub the sleep away. "If it's before noon, come back at twelve." Yanking on the covers, I rolled onto my side to block her out.
She tugged on my arm and used her weight to pull me into a sitting position. "It's already ten. By the time you shower and eat, it will be noon before we get on the road. And then it's an hour drive. Come on."
I hated it when she pouted and even worse when she whined. Portia was the only female in the world who could spin me upside down by puffing out her bottom lip and lowering her voice half an octave. I was a goner the instant she did it.
"Fine. I'll get up when you get out." There was no way in hell I was tossing back the blankets to give her a visual of all the things I'd dreamed about. It was difficult enough to hide morning wood with something covering me; in nothing other than boxers, she'd see all I had to offer.
There was no denying how nice her ass looked as she crawled off the side of the mattress. It was perfectly round, and the bottom peeked out beneath her shorts. "Promise you won't go back to sleep?"
I grunted, crossed my heart, fell back onto the pillows, and waited for her to go. The groan that escaped my mouth could only be satisfied under the veil of running water and a locked door. Like most guys my age, I did my best thinking in the shower-and Portia monopolized my thoughts. I'd never seen her naked; however, I'd had the pleasure of sunbathing on the beach next to her. Portia had sported some pretty skimpy bikinis that I couldn't believe Ernie had let her out of the house in. My imagination was vivid enough to fill in the blanks.
It hadn't taken me anywhere near as long as Portia believed it would, but I kept dragging my feet. The two weeks I'd had with her before she left for college flew by faster than I could blink. I dreaded leaving today to drive her to school. I knew just how hard the solitude would hit me. My entire life, I'd had my mom or Portia at my side, and in a matter of hours, I'd have neither.
Ernie and Hensley had hovered since the funeral, even though they hadn't pushed. It was as if they were waiting for me to fall apart, which hadn't happened since I'd left Mom's grave. Ernie wanted to have one of his father-son talks, but wisely, he hadn't pushed the subject. I could only hope that starting back to school in two days would keep all that at bay. I didn't believe in the whole grief process thing; I'd experienced all those stages before my mom died because I knew it was coming, and then again in the few days after. Since then, I'd been kind of numb.
The only good part about Portia going to college was that I got her car. As a freshman, she wasn't allowed to have a vehicle space, which meant she either had to find a place to park off campus or leave it at home. Ernie and Hensley thought the second option was best. Selfishly, I appreciated it-until I realized she wouldn't be able to come home whenever she wanted. One of us would have to go get her-not that I'd complain-or she'd have to find a ride. And so far, Portia didn't know anyone attending the same university.
Hensley straightened my shirt and smoothed it down my chest. "Jude, make sure you call us when you get there. And again as you're leaving so we know when to expect you back." She didn't make eye contact with me until after she'd finished her sentence.
I nodded and stepped back so she and Ernie could give Portia money, an emergency credit card, the same list of rules she got every time she left the house, hugs, and then poorly hidden tears. It was hard to imagine what this would be like for a parent, and even more so for one who hadn't had the full eighteen years with their child. But as the kid who sought independence, I wasn't sure how Portia hadn't pushed them off and darted to the car to speed off into the sunset. My heart swelled watching her play the part of a doting daughter. She loved them both beyond measure and was well aware of how different her existence would be had they not found each other.
I had taken their role in my life for granted until recent weeks. I never saw them as my parents, more like those of my best friend. Even though they'd been there for me at every turn-good or bad-it never occurred to me that they were an extension of my mom. It wasn't until the day she told me the cancer returned and she had opted not to do another round of chemo, that it dawned on me where I fell in the pecking order of their lives. They hadn't prayed for my mom's demise, but they had, however, made her a promise to fill in wherever she left off.
I stared at the three of them in a communal embrace and listened to them cry tears of happiness that their little girl was growing up. Portia rolled her eyes even though she'd bend over backward to please them.
Ernie clapped me on the shoulder when the blubbering ended, startling me from my thoughts. "Drive safe. Make sure you call us."
"Got it." I tried to soften my tone when I realized how sharp my words were. "Promise."
Portia blew Ernie and Hensley kisses-she was such a girl-and settled herself into the passenger seat. While I buckled up, she entered the address into the GPS, and I stole a glimpse of her, capturing a screenshot in my memory. She caught me staring at her while she fumbled with the radio. We maneuvered out of the neighborhood, and she slowly tilted her eyes up to meet my stare. I glanced away, as though the road garnered my attention, yet from the corner of my eye, I watched her watching me. I wondered if she were making memories of her own to recall later when she was alone at school or if she just thought I was an odd duck. Either could be true.
Once she settled on a playlist, she sat back with the volume cranked up and proceeded to sing every lyric to each song that barreled through the speakers. Some she sang to me as though I were her ravenous audience of one. Others she belted out like she was alone in the world, staring out the window. And then there were a handful she knew I recognized and forced me to join in as though it were a hallelujah chorus. This was the Portia I'd loved as a kid, through the various awkward stages of puberty, and now into adulthood-although each with a different passion.
I could see the pieces of her that had grown and matured along the way in everything she did; even the way she laughed hadn't changed, just aged.
"Stop staring at me, Jude. You're making me all self-conscious."
"How can I be staring at you when my eyes are on the road?" Regardless of whether I admitted it, I'd been caught, and I smirked.
"I bet you still believe that if you can't see me, then I can't see you, huh?"
"You'll never let that go, will you?"
"It's funny." She chuckled and then broke out into laughter, almost choking on the words as she forced me to relive a memory she loved and I hated. "How could you think I wouldn't see your body hanging out from under the couch just because you had covered your head?"
I turned onto the campus, and I hoped when I pointed at the sign that she'd drop the topic. "It wasn't one of my finer moments. Gimme a break. I was eight."
"And oddly enough, the smartest guy I've ever known...you just needed a little schooling in the ways of the streets...some world knowledge."
"Oh yeah, you brought that to the table in spades with your vast history on the streets of Carondale when you were nine."
"There!" Portia smacked my arm and pointed to an enormous building with the words Sander Hall etched above the brick facing. "That's it. Find a place to park."
That was easier said than done. We weren't the only people who had shown up to move in on "Moving Day." The roads were congested with families trying to find the closest spot to the building.
I stopped to wait for three guys to cross the street and hoped they were going to a car where we might snag their parking place. As they hung out, talking between two vehicles, I got frustrated, not wanting to give up the possibility of a spot, and not wanting to wait all day for something that didn't exist. I huffed, and she shoved open the passenger door.
"Portia, what are you doing?"
She didn't wait to answer. Instead, her lean legs carried her thin, smoking-hot body straight up to the three strangers. Her hair blew behind her in the breeze, and her oversized shirt slid off her shoulder to expose the black strap of her bra and that knot of a bone I loved so much. It was a strategic move on her part; I just wasn't aware it was one that was in her arsenal. I couldn't see her face, yet I had no doubt she was talking because her hands were moving. Each of the guys had turned toward her, forming a little circle with the girl they'd never met and obviously wanted to get to know by the grins plastered to their faces. Portia pointed to the car, and I hoped I was far enough away that they hadn't seen me glaring. She smiled and returned her attention to the tallest of the three. He leaned in and said something only she was privy to.
I saw red. The guy had about fifty pounds of solid muscle on me, even though I had three inches on him. I wasn't a fighter-never had been. Still, had Portia not come back to the car sooner rather than later, I would have gotten out and removed her. She strutted toward me with confidence I didn't know she possessed and glanced over her shoulder, waving to the same guy who'd whispered sweet nothings in her ear.
She got back in the vehicle. "Bartholomew is going to move his car so you can park there and-"
"Who?" My tone was snotty and unwarranted. Thankfully, Portia missed it.
"Bartholomew. He's the RA for Sander Hall."
My anger morphed to sullen disbelief. "Your dorm is co-ed?"
"Oh. Go. The spot's empty." She patted me on the arm to grab my attention. "Hurry before someone else gets it."
Parking squelched the discussion. Portia was out and lifting the hatch. All around us, vehicles were open, people carried boxes and bags-some lamps and odd-looking chairs-and Portia was in the zone.
I tried to remember why I was here. This wasn't about me. She'd chosen to have me bring her, not Ernie and Hensley. The two of us had a bond that I believed only twins and other fosters understood. Nothing-not distance, not another guy, not school-could change that. Even if it didn't stifle my jealousy.
For the next hour, I acted as Portia's pack mule, toting her stuff up to the third floor of her dorm. Waiting for elevators was pointless; everyone and their mama-literally-had them in use. I opted for the stairs, making trip after trip while she found places to put things in the tiny space she now shared with Jet Ashmore. I couldn't say with any certainty that Jet wasn't her real name, but I was confident in going out on a limb to say that it wasn't. At first glance, she seemed a perfect fit for Portia. Then, as I caught pieces of their conversations while I came in and out of the door, I realized her look didn't match her personality, and Portia would call her a poser. I just hoped Portia managed to make friends with her; otherwise, Portia would have a long year in this crackerjack box of a room with a girl she couldn't stand.
On my final trip to the third floor, I dumped the last of Portia's stuff on her bed and realized she'd be just fine. She already had her indie-grunge music pumping, and even though Jet didn't seem to know the words, it appeared she liked the beat. The two of them were dancing, and Portia had started singing-God, help us all.
"Jude, you forgot to call Mom and Dad to let them know we were here."
I'd gotten distracted by Bart and company in the parking lot. "Did you call?" I hadn't gotten used to her referring to Ernie and Hensley as Mom and Dad. She didn't do it often, so when she did, it threw me for a second.
"They called me. I think they were afraid of you talking on the phone and driving at the same time." Pleased with herself, her eyes narrowed playfully, and her smile widened.
Jet beamed at me and continued to put stuff away as she danced around. "I think it's cute your little brother brought you to school."
Portia didn't correct her. And by the time I realized she wasn't going to, I'd waited too long-it would now seem odd for me to announce that we weren't really related. I cocked my head in question, but Portia either didn't get that it bothered me that she let this girl think I was her sibling, or she completely missed me staring at her.
She came over and ruffled my hair like I was five instead of seventeen. "He's awesome to have around." And then she snaked her arm around my waist and gave me a quick squeeze.
"Too bad you're younger. You're super cute." Jet wasn't the least bit shy, even if she was full of shit.
"He is, isn't he?" The proud look Portia gave me made my heart swell, and I forgave her for rubbing my head. "Can you imagine how hot he'll be when he fills out in a year or so?"
It was like I wasn't even standing there.
"Damn." Jet jutted her hip out and ran her gaze from my head to my toes and back. "That red hair, and as tall as he is...if he puts on some weight, you won't be able to beat the girls off him with a stick." She shook her head as though she were fantasizing about a more mature version of me standing before her.
Invisible.
"Aren't his freckles perfect?" Portia cooed at her new friend.
"It's those big, brown, puppy-dog eyes that are going to steal the hearts of ladies." Jet wagged her brow at me and winked.
She was a pretty girl: long, blond hair, bright-blue eyes, and a body guys would drool over. If Mattel ever created an Indie-Rock Barbie, they could use Jet-name and all-as inspiration. Yet she paled in comparison to Portia's unique vibe.
Without warning, Jet popped me on the ass and giggled. That's where I drew the line.
"Before this gets out of hand, Portia, is there anything you need to do around campus?" I already knew there was.
"Oh, yeah. I'm glad you mentioned that. I don't know how late any of these places are open." She turned to Jet. "Do you want to go with us to get a student ID and meal card? I need to get my books, too."
I hoped she would let me go around campus with her to find her classes, as well. I wanted to be a part of this. And I hoped that if I knew where she was during the day, I'd feel closer to her. Being able to visualize where she was when I talked to her somehow set my mind at ease. I'd done the same thing when I'd been with my mom instead of at the Shaws' house.
"Nah, I'm going to stay here and finish unpacking. You two go. I'll see you later."
I let out a breath that I hadn't realized I held. Jet seemed to be a nice enough girl; I just wanted what little time I had to be spent with Portia and not competing for her attention. We'd almost made it out the front of Sander Hall when Portia's new BFF stopped her to ask where she was headed, as though I weren't standing next to her.
And after telling him, she drove a knife straight into my heart when she asked, "Wanna come?" I couldn't have snapped my fingers as fast as Bartholomew took her side.
"Oh, I forgot. Bartholomew, this is my little brother, Jude."
I tried-unsuccessfully-to hide my disappointment in her introduction as I shook the guy's hand.
"Please, call me Bart." He glanced at her and then back to me. Bart had to shift his eyes upward. He wasn't short by any means, a solid six feet. I was just three inches taller. I took pleasure in that tiny nuance. "Not very little. You play basketball?"
I hated that question almost as much as I detested sports. "Do you play miniature golf?" It wasn't nice even if I said it with a smile. Nevertheless, he chuckled.
"Jude! Don't be like that." Portia came to Bart's defense.
And then she touched him.
It was a casual exchange-her hand on his forearm. All the same, it fueled the green monster growing inside me. "He's more of an intellectual than an athlete." Her eyes shifted to mine.
"No shame in that, man. It's good to meet you."
Bart made it awfully difficult to dislike him. He was respectful, courteous, and seemed laid-back... I could acknowledge that women would find him easy on the eyes. And I had to admit, he made every effort to keep me engaged with the two of them. Although, I still seemed to be the third wheel in this trio, which was odd since I'd known Portia for years to his handful of hours.
As we proceeded around campus, Bart showed Portia where all her classes were, bought us both coffee, introduced her to what seemed to be every soul we encountered, and gave her an inside tour of the campus. When we circled back to their dorm, I offered to excuse myself.
I thought for sure Portia would tell Bart she'd see him later and beg me to stay...that's what I got for trying to manipulate the situation to get what I wanted. Bart was new and exciting. I was reliable and always around.
"Don't forget to call Mom and Dad when you get in the car." And in that handful of words, Portia managed to make me feel like a child.
She wrapped her arms around my waist and pressed her head against my chest. I reciprocated and took the opportunity to inhale the scent of rosemary in her hair and try to memorize the way she felt next to me. I didn't have a commitment for when she'd be home, and I knew the second I got in the car, loneliness waited to hold me hostage.
"I won't."
Bart smiled at me and then looked down at Portia. He clapped me on the shoulder which prompted her to release me. "It was good to meet you, man. Don't be a stranger. I promise I'll take good care of your sister."
I wanted to correct him. Tell him we weren't really related. Threaten him about touching her. Pee on her leg and stake my claim. Instead, I pussed out. "You too."
