ONE
Janie
The plastic champagne flute is slippery between my fingers as another aunt or family friend, I've lost track of the difference at this hour, pulls me into a perfume-scented hug.
"We're just so proud of you, sweetheart!" Her lipstick leaves a waxy imprint on my cheek that I'll have to scrub off later.
"Thank you," I manage, matching her enthusiasm while scanning our backyard.
Mom and Dad have transformed it into something magical for tonight. String lights crisscross overhead, casting a golden glow across familiar faces. The wooden deck I've crossed a thousand times feels different under my heels, like it's already becoming a memory rather than my everyday.
Two days until Chicago. Two days until I prove I'm more than just the Harrelson baby girl.
"Northwestern Memorial is getting one hell of an administrator," Dad's colleague raises his beer in my direction. "Your father hasn't shut up about it for weeks."
I smile, despite the constant flutter lately in my stomach that comes every time someone mentions Northwestern. The opportunity fell into my lap like a gift I'm terrified of dropping. I'm getting a full ride to grad school while earning an actual salary at one of the top teaching hospitals in the country. My dream wrapped in ice and wind and distance.
"Janie!" Blake’s voice booms across the yard before he slings an arm around my shoulders, squeezing like he’s trying to dislocate one. "Look at you, stealing the spotlight. Everybody’s toasting your big Chicago fellowship while I’m over here bragging about my latest ambulance shift like it’s headline news."
I laugh, nudging him. "Hey, I'd much rather be doing that than committing to another three years of school. For the record, I'm bragging about your paramedics' heroics, too."
"Nobody’s lining up to shake my hand over an IV line, but I'll take my little sister's admiration any day." He swipes a canapé off a passing tray and grins around the bite. "Just don’t forget us small-town blue-collar workers when you’re too busy being corporate fancy."
"Please. You think I’d ever let you off the hook that easy?"
He smirks. "Just don’t come back in a Bears jersey talking about deep-dish pizza like it’s real food. That’s when we cut you off for good."
"I’m Seminoles for life. I'll never trade in garnet and gold for a Bears jersey. Rest assured."
He barks out a laugh. "That’s my girl." His arm tightens, dragging me into his chest before grinding his knuckles into my hair.
I swat him away. "Easy! I worked hard on this bouffant. Nobody wants your paramedic gorilla hands wrecking it."
"You’ll always be my little sister, and I’ll always have the right to mess with you. That's my job."
"Try it again and see what rights you’ve really got." I flip my hair back into place, ignoring the pinch in my chest.
"Already getting big for your britches." Blake winks, then softens, his hand warm on my shoulder. "Seriously, though, kid, you’re gonna kill it up there. Chicago won’t know what hit it."
My eyes flick past him, snagging on a silhouette near the bar. Warren Carter, Blake’s best friend since forever, practically another son in our house during their senior year, looks ridiculously handsome as he leans against a chair, laughing. It's the kind of smile that creases his cheeks in a way I’ve seen a thousand times and never really… noticed.
Blake follows my gaze. "Oh, I meant to tell you. Warren said he’d come by if you need help packing up your place."
I shrug, too casual. "I’ve got it covered. Almost done."
Blake arches a brow. "Then why are you pink?"
The back of my neck prickles. "Because it’s August in Florida, genius."
Before he can press, I duck away, weaving through clusters of neighbors and relatives, catching snippets of conversation as I weave through guests.
"—little Janie, can you believe it? Moving to the big city?—"
I clasp my jaw, gripping my champagne flute tighter. That's exactly what I need to leave behind, being perpetually sixteen in everyone's eyes. The baby. The little sister. The one who needs protecting.
I slip through to the buffet table, where Mrs. Delaney and her church friends have formed their usual gossipingcircle. They swarm around me like perfumed birds, cooing and clutching.
"There she is!" Mrs. Delaney extends her arms. "Northwestern's newest star!"