Out of My Sister’s Shadow

[They're only chasing you to get back at your sister.] It floated past just as I was about to walk over to the man who'd been so gentle with me lately.

It scrolled by the way comments scroll through a livestream chat, line after line.

After my sister's tangle of overlapping relationships came out, every man who had been chasing her turned to look at me instead, as if they'd all agreed on it beforehand.

My sister said maybe they'd figured out I was better than she was.

And I had grown up in the light she cast, so the smallest bit of favor was all it took, and I answered it in earnest before I could stop myself.

Then, a second later, I heard that man say, in a cold voice I had never heard from him before: "If her little sister doesn't get a taste of being thrown away first, how is she ever going to regret anything?" Chapter 1 The conversation turned.

Now the cluster of rich kids a few feet away had a new subject to pick over. Me. "Rosalie, though. She's nothing like her sister.

Her sister's just a bad woman." Quentin's voice went cold for a beat, then his mouth curved. "She's pure, that one.

Tease her a little and she goes red." His tone was loose and flippant. My lashes flickered, and I started to turn away. Quentin spotted me before I could. He called after me.

Maybe he assumed the bar was loud enough that I hadn't heard him. Or maybe he assumed that even if I had, it made no difference.

The comments floated past my eyes again. [Quentin went to beg her sister to take him back today and got shut out at the door. He's furious right now.

My guess is he wants to dump every bit of it on the little sister.] [Right!

If this goes the way it always goes, tonight Quentin gets a video of the little sister crying and begging, then uses it to blackmail her sister into taking him back.] Quentin smiled at me, lazy, his whole face arrogant and pleased with itself.

He crooked a finger. I didn't go pressing up against him, obedient, the way I always had. I stood where I was and said nothing. The curve of Quentin's mouth stiffened.

His eyes went over me inch by inch, and impatience had already crept into them.

If it weren't for those comments, I might have gone on blinding myself forever, never noticing that he treated me one way and my sister another.

Still believing that someone actually liked me.

Quentin crossed to me on those long legs, bent down a little, and met my eyes. "What's the matter, baby?" I pressed my lips together. "I'm going home." I turned to leave.

Quentin caught my arm. I stumbled backward into his chest, and his other hand pinched the soft part of my cheek. "You were making me cupcakes yesterday.

Now you don't know me?" He didn't lower his voice for it. A few feet off, his friends heard it, and the laughing went around them one after another.

A thread of humiliation went through me, and I bit down on my lower lip. Ever since my sister found out they'd all come after me, I'd been on edge about it.

She had laughed. "It's fine. They probably just figured out you're better than me." She had taken my hand and given me advice. "Don't worry about me. Plenty of people like me.

I don't care about any of them. But somebody likes you now, and that makes me happy. When you've got time, make them desserts, get them out of the house.

They might like you even more." The comments surfaced again. [Meanwhile, in reality: Quentin did not eat one bite of those cupcakes.

Straight in the trash.] [He also said if her sister had baked them, he'd frame them and hang them on the wall.] [Keep dreaming.

Her sister can't be bothered.] Chapter 2 I was quiet for a long moment before I asked, softly, "What was the filling in the cupcakes yesterday?" Quentin paused for a second.

Then he laughed, careless about it. "You dropped them off, that's the part that counts. You want a review too? Is our Rosie running a bakery now?" I stopped talking.

Right in the middle of that stalled silence, I heard another voice I knew. "Small world." The man had come up beside us without my noticing.

He raised his eyes to me — eyes that tilted up at the outer corners, born flirting — and his smile landed like a hit to the chest.

Even the way his voice trailed off pulled at you like a hook. "If it isn't Rosie. What are you doing in a place like this?

Aren't you afraid somebody will pick on you?" Then he gave Quentin one light, drifting glance. He meant something by it.

The comments came pouring in fast. […Besides you pack of fuckboys, who exactly is picking on her?] [Oh! This guy hates the little sister more than anybody.

He likes the type her sister is, the kind who keeps him on the hook while he keeps her on his. Not a soft little bunny like this one.] [Right, he said it himself once.

A girl like Rosalie clings the second you're done with her, so don't touch her.] [Too bad her sister got under his skin too.

That's the only reason he's anywhere near Rosalie.] His long fingers settled on my shoulder. "I'll drive you home in a bit." I took a step back before I could think about it.

He laughed quietly. "There's nothing to be shy about with me." Quentin let out a cold laugh. "She's avoiding you.

Can't you tell?" Xavier smiled. "Can't tell." I got into the same car as them anyway, because Xavier said, still smiling, "Rosie, your sister told me to bring you back in one piece.

How am I supposed to report in if you carry on like this?" Not long after we started, he and Quentin got into it over the seating.

It ended with the driver up front and the two of them taking either end of the back seat, with me wedged in the middle.

Quentin took the first shot. "How is it you turn up everywhere?

Your father's love child not keeping you busy enough?" Xavier's smile didn't move. "I hear your parents are shipping you out of the country.

And yet here you are, still hanging around." Quentin said, "You're like a stain that won't come out." Xavier said, "Right back at you." I kept my knees pressed together and tried to take up no space at all, watching the comments float past again. [Ugh, on the surface these two are jealous over Rosalie.

Underneath it's still about her sister.] [Even driving her home is an excuse to get one look at the sister…] [Ugh, next to her sister, poor Rosalie doesn't stand a chance.

Charm level approximately zero!] The car came to a smooth stop in front of the house. Both Quentin and Xavier wanted to walk me in.

I didn't say anything, and the butler respectfully opened the door for us. In the front hall, my sister was stretched out on the couch in a silk slip, loose and unhurried.

She heard us come in, lifted her eyelids, and let her gaze land on us. "Zelda," I said. Zelda's mouth curved.

She looked past me at the two of them. "Sorry to make you go out of your way, bringing my sister home." Her tone was weightless. Quentin scoffed. "Your sister's adorable.

What trouble? I was glad to drive her." Xavier made a sound of agreement, and his smile was a beautiful thing. "Rosie's sweet.

Better than most people by a mile." I glanced over at them.

That was what their mouths were saying, but both of them had their eyes locked on Zelda and hadn't moved them by half an inch.

Zelda's expression didn't shift at all. "Is that right? Good. Don't do anything to upset my sister." Quentin narrowed his eyes. Zelda looked straight back at him, unbothered.

Quentin let out a cold laugh, turned, and walked out with long strides.

Chapter 3 Xavier still wore that playboy's notquitesmile, and he looked Zelda over from top to bottom, until her red lips parted to send him away.

Then he turned his head, met my eyes, and smiled a little. "Goodnight, Rosie." And he left too. I stood there a while. I felt tired. "I'm going up, Zelda," I said quietly.

Zelda's face was the same as always. Then, as I started up the stairs, she called after me, her smile flat. "Rosie, what isn't yours is never going to be yours.

You need to be clear about where you stand. Don't let yourself sink into it." I lowered my eyes.

After a long moment my lips moved. "I know." After that, when Quentin and Xavier asked me out again, I left them on read.

Zelda saw me staying in instead of going out and smiled. "This is better.

Keeps you from being dragged into bad habits out there with those people." She sighed, looking down at me from on high, and there was pity in it. "You're too naive.

You can't hold on to Quentin or Xavier or any of them. All you can do is get played. I'm not like you, Rosie." Then she patted my head and went out on a date.

I sat back quietly into the soft couch. On the screen in front of me, a sugary romance was playing. For a moment my mind drifted. The truth is, my sister wasn't wrong.

She had been better than me since we were children. Beautiful, bright, everyone orbiting around her, and she was better with people, too.

Plenty of people had complimented me over the years. But what they always said was, "Rosie, you're pretty too.

It's just that next to your sister, it always feels like something's missing…" I opened my phone. Some of my sister's admirers had added me on social, too.

They came at me from every angle, fishing for what she liked and where she'd be. Sometimes it got to be too much and I'd tell them to contact her directly.

Then they'd say: [Your sister has her own things going on. Where would she find the time for me?] [She's busy.

Do you ever actually think about your sister at all?] … The next day at noon, I came downstairs in my slippers to eat.

I looked at all the people at the table and blanked for a second. They'd already started. Zelda patted the seat beside her. "Come sit, Rosie." I made my slow way to the chair. "Dad.

Mom." My mother smiled. "I figured you wouldn't be up, so I didn't call you. You know Quentin and the rest of them, so I won't bother with introductions.

Sit down and eat." Quentin was cracking crab legs for Zelda, no expression on his face at all. Xavier topped off her wine and moved the dish she'd wanted in front of her.

The two of them seemed locked in some quiet contest. Zelda took it the way she took everything.

Then my father cleared his throat and asked her, "How are things coming along with the move abroad?" The silence was instant. I looked up, surprised too. Zelda paused.

She avoided the eyes Quentin and Xavier turned on her and said, mildly, "I've thought it over.

I'd rather not." "Don't be ridiculous." My father's voice came down hard. "Everything has been arranged for you, and now you simply aren't going?

Do you have any idea how rare this opportunity is? That professor over there—" Zelda's brows drew together and she pressed her lips. She seemed to be wavering.

Everyone else at the table tensed up. Then Xavier laughed, light about it, tossing it off. "Mr. Whitmore, if she doesn't want to go, why not send someone who does?

Everybody wins." The second the words landed, Quentin's eyes lifted and came to me. It was the first time since I'd walked in that he had looked directly at me.

What he meant needed no saying. Chapter 4 My father frowned. Quentin made the suggestion lazily. "Sure.

Why not give the opportunity to Rosalie?" The comments came out of nowhere. [They know perfectly well Rosalie is timid and doesn't want to study abroad either.] [Right, they're waiting for Rosalie to say no.

Then neither sister wants to go, and it isn't all the older one's fault anymore.] [I'm dying. Weren't these two supposedly dead set on hating her sister?

And then they turn around, straightfaced, and get on their knees to lick her boots.] [Really, all they hate is a spotlight hung that high, one that will never shine on them alone.] Every pair of eyes at the table came to me.

My mother hesitated and shook her head. "But if it's Rosie…" Two comments from the day before flashed through my head. [Ugh, look how far into her shell Rosalie has crawled.

And there are men with far better technique who haven't even shown up yet.] [Honestly, in a situation like this, all Rosalie has to do is get away from them.

Why insist on staying tangled up with these people?] A few seconds passed. I nodded and said, seriously, "Okay." The air went strangely still.

Zelda's brows drew together and she looked at me, thrown by the decision. "You—" My father settled it in a low, firm voice. "Then that's how it will be.

I'll go handle the paperwork, and I'll give you the rest of the documents later." I gave a small smile. "Okay." When I looked away I ran straight into Quentin's black eyes, and I couldn't read what was in them.

He broke the look off fast. Xavier, on the other hand, let his smile thin. He propped his chin on his hand and studied me.

We finished the meal in an atmosphere that was nothing short of bizarre. But having made the decision, I felt lighter than I expected to.

After I picked up some of the documents from my father's study, I was about to go back to my room when I heard Zelda downstairs, talking to them.

Xavier: "You aren't going to try to talk her out of it?" Zelda's tone said she had it all figured out. "There's no need.

She's probably unhappy about something and throwing a little tantrum. Don't I know my own sister? When we were kids she didn't even want to go on school field trips.

And now she's going to move overseas?" "Unhappy?" Quentin asked, casually. "Unhappy about what?" Zelda scoffed. "You have the nerve to ask?" A short silence.

Then Quentin laughed too, low in his throat. "And you, Zelda? Is there anything you're unhappy about?" His voice had a warm, coaxing rasp to it.

And a gentleness I had never once heard from him. I didn't wait for Zelda to answer. I turned and went to my room.

After that I spent my time sorting through documents and waiting for the process to be finished.

Then, a few days later, it was Zelda's birthday, and the house filled up for a party.

The way I always did, I stood with her while she cut the cake, poured out the champagne tower, and then went quietly to a corner.

I watched everyone gather around Zelda like she was the sun and the rest of them were in orbit, laughter everywhere. I was long used to it.

I yawned and thought about when it would be acceptable to slip out. That was when somebody suggested hideandseek. Zelda was the guest of honor, so she laughed and agreed.

The whole crowd of rich kids scattered in every direction. I went straight out and hid in the garden. Nobody came looking for me, which suited me fine.

Half an hour later I judged that enough time had passed and decided to just slip back up to my room. But the house, which had been loud and full, had gone completely silent.

A bad feeling rose in my chest. I came back to the front hall. Hideandseek was over, all right.

Every pair of eyes turned toward me at once, and then the rich kids in the room traded looks with each other, weighted and unreadable.

I hesitated before I spoke. "…Is something wrong?" Chapter 5