She barges into me with her shoulder, and I can’t stop the grin pulling at my lips as she marches away with my sister. Her scent lingers, her dark hair bouncing down her back, but she keeps facing forward, refusing to give me that one last look at her I’m desperate for – until she’s about to vanish down the pathway among the trees, when she turns and gives me the middle finger. Fucking hell. Why am I smiling?
