"No. Yes. I have no idea," she said, finally slowing down.
"They feel the same way," I said. "You can't listen to anything they say."
"Except they're right," Quinn said. "You were Sienna's boyfriend, not my buddy. I shouldn't have pestered you. I should have stuck by my mother and kept her calm."
"You're allowed to grieve, too. You're allowed to need someone in your corner." I caught her arm. "I'm on your side, Quinn. I've always been on your side."
"Sienna didn't mind us being friends, did she?" Quinn asked, tears in her eyes.
"She encouraged it. Sienna was the one that pointed out how much we have in common. She made us friends," I said. I bit my lip to stop from saying more.
Quinn threw her arms around my neck and hugged me hard. I steadied myself, then wrapped my arms around her. I could not think about how her every curve fit alongside my body. We came together too easily to ignore, but Quinn needed comfort, not complications.
I would not tell her how many times Sienna confronted me about my feelings for her little sister. Quinn did not need to know how often Sienna complained that her little sister had a crush on me. No one needed to know how that always thrilled me. I kept up with Sienna as long as I could. Now that she was gone, my connection to Quinn was even stronger. We needed each other.
"It's going to get better," I said.
"I know, I know," Quinn's voice was muffled against my neck. "Just promise me we won't drift apart." She pulled back and looked into my eyes. "I didn't know you and Sienna were drifting apart."
"For a long time, but that doesn't matter now," I said. I set Quinn carefully back on her high heels. "I'm here if you need me."
She looked at my car and shook her head. "Sienna hated this car."
"Get in if you want. I can drive you to the cemetery or you can hang out at my place if you want," I said.
Quinn brushed her chestnut hair back and smoothed it down. "No. I have to ride with my parents. It wouldn't look right if I wasn't with them."
I wanted to ask her what it mattered how things looked. I wanted to tell her that grief was messy. It was too late. I watched as Quinn straightened her shoulders and marched back to be the dutiful daughter.
Chapter Three
Quinn
The house was spotless when we returned from the cemetery. Even the funeral flowers had been removed. White roses replaced the normal vases of cut flowers my mother ordered, but that was the only change. It was as if nothing had happened.
I went to change clothes and then came back down to join my parents. They seemed confused.
"Oh, Quinn, you startled me," my mother said. She and my father sat in their normal spots in the living room. My father was reading and my mother was watching a raucous reality television show.
He put his book down, and my mother paused the television. The same heavy expression they had worn all day returned. If I had not reappeared, they could have convinced themselves both daughters were at UCLA and all was as it should be. I was an unwelcome reminder that Sienna was gone.
"I was just coming to say goodnight," I said.
"It’s only 8 pm," my father said.
"I'm just really tired," I rubbed my forehead.
"Sienna says studying before bed is a good idea because your mind works on what you learned all night," my mother told me.
"Yes, good idea," I said. I did not tell them I had left all my study material at school.
Upstairs again, the weight overtook me. I sank to the floor next to my bed. Sienna was gone and I could just as easily disappear. In fact, I slipped out of my parents' lives just by leaving the room. I could just leave and they would never even notice. Where would I go and what would I do?
I knew, but I was not ready to think about it.
I must have been sitting there for nearly an hour when the phone rang. "Hello?"
"Quinn, I had to call. How are you?"