Coming Up For Air | ✓

23 | world's okay-est sister

A small smile curls on Stella's lips as she stretches her arms overhead, letting her gaze flicker over Jake's room.

Outside the window, birds chatter away—happily enjoying their day. Rays of sun slip through the blinds, casting a striped pattern over the beige carpet and the gray sheets; a soft, light glow wraps around the room.

Rolling onto her side, Stella pops her chin in her hand and beams at Jake. "I'm in your bed."

The corners of his mouth twitch up, having her cheeks warm. "You've slept in here before."

"Yeah when we were kids and built a blanket fort—not the same thing,"

A beat of silence stretches between them and Stella narrows her eyes as Jake's smile grows wider.

"You want to build a blanket fort, don't you?"

Jake rolls his lips together, a glimmer to his eyes. "It could be fun."

Stella shakes her head in faint amusement, then she stills—her brows drawing together as she listens to their surroundings. "What was that?"

Mouth in an upward tilt, Jake reaches up to tuck a curl of her tangled hair behind her ear. "What was what?"

"I swear I heard a car-door slam shut."

"Probably a neighbor."

"It was closer than–"

The sound of a doorbell cuts through her words, echoing loudly against the walls of the house.

Raising her brows, Stella says, "Told you."

A tired expression passes over Jake's features. "If that's Jess–"

"If it is, you better be nice," Shooting Jake a look, Stella waves her hand in a small shooing-motion. "Off you go."

He lets out a chortled breath. "Why am I the one who has to get it?"

Stella falls back into the mattress, stretching her arms far and wide with a smile. "Because I am just so comfortable right here."

Jake shakes his head, amusement dancing over his lips as he climbs out of bed. "I'll be back,"

Throwing a glance over his shoulder, he pulls at the hem of his rumpled t-shirt. "Stay there; we have a fort to build."

Laughing, Stella shoos him away with another wave of her hand, eyes fluttering shut as she sinks into the pillows with a small yawn. She listens with half-an-ear to Jake's quick footsteps on the stairs as she drifts into a comfortable rest. The doorbell rings through the house again. And soon, the familiar—light-hearted—notes of Faye's voice blends with Jake's slightly bewildered tone.

Wait.

Faye?

Eyes wide open, Stella remains still—listening hard as she flickers her gaze across the white ceiling.

Surely Faye isn't here, in the lake house. Her sister's busy at work back home, she said so herself. Stella must've fallen asleep; she must've been dreaming.

Jake's voice carries through the house, far too loud—a warning disguised in joyous surprise—as he calls out a "God, what's in this bag Faye?"

Shook awake, Stella scrambles out of bed and runs her fingers through her hair in an attempt to comb it into place as she hears her sister ask, "Where's Stella?"

"Upstairs,"

Stella freezes, and Jake seems to realize a moment too late he's said the wrong thing.