The apartment was silent except for the faint ticking of the wall clock in the kitchen. It was almost midnight, and the streets outside had settled into a quieter rhythm. Simon lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling. The air was warm, thick with humidity that the old fan in the corner couldn't fully beat back.
He rolled onto his side, eyes fixed on the slightly open door. A sliver of hallway light slipped through the gap like a soft blade. He'd tried sleeping. Tried music. Even considered pulling out his lacrosse stick and practicing some dodges to tire himself out. But none of it worked.
His mind wouldn't stop.
He kept hearing Elena's voice. That soft, confessional tone she used on the couch earlier. The way she looked at him. The way her eyes flicked down to his mouth. The nearness of her skin.
His chest felt like it might cave in.
Then—footsteps.
Soft, careful. A shadow moved past his doorway, then paused.
A heartbeat later, there was a gentle knock.
Tap. Tap.
Simon's breath caught.
"Si?" Elena whispered.
He scrambled upright. "Yeah?"
She pushed the door open and slipped inside, barefoot, wearing one of their mom's oversized T-shirts that hung loosely off her shoulder. It barely reached mid-thigh.
"Can I stay in here a minute?" she asked. "I can't sleep."
Simon blinked, trying to steady his heartbeat. "Yeah. Of course."
She crossed the room without hesitation and climbed onto his bed like she'd done a hundred times before when they were younger. Except it hadn't felt like this back then.
Now, she pulled the blanket over her legs and curled toward him, propping her head on one hand. Her hair was messy, falling across her face in soft waves. The scent of her lotion—vanilla and something floral—wrapped around him.
"I keep overthinking," she said quietly.
"About what?"
"Everything. School. College. Eddie."
Simon glanced at her. "You thinking about breaking up with him?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes it feels like we're just going through the motions. Like we're pretending to still be into each other because we've been together so long."
Simon tried to hide the way his stomach tightened at that. "Do you… still like him?"
"I don't know," she said again, then smiled faintly. "Why are feelings so damn confusing?"
Simon chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. "If you figure that out, let me know."
She reached over and tugged lightly at his shirt sleeve. "You ever like someone you're not supposed to?"
His throat went dry.
"I… maybe," he said cautiously.
She studied him for a second. "Who?"
Simon looked away. "Doesn't matter."
"Come on. You can tell me."
He shook his head. "It's complicated."
She smiled again, gently teasing. "Is she older?"
"Yes."
"Prettier than me?"
He laughed, but the sound cracked halfway out of his chest. "No. No one's prettier than you."
The room fell silent.
His words had slipped out too easily—unguarded, honest, real. And he couldn't take them back.
She didn't respond right away. Her eyes lingered on his, and he felt something shift in the air between them. It wasn't just sibling closeness anymore. It was something heavier. Charged.
Elena reached out and brushed her thumb across his cheekbone.
His heart nearly stopped.
"You've grown up a lot, you know," she said softly. "Sometimes I forget you're not that scrawny kid who followed me everywhere."
"I'm still that kid," he whispered.
"No, you're not," she said, almost sadly.
Her hand lingered for a second too long before she pulled it back and looked down. Her fingers knotted in the blanket.
"I should go," she murmured.
But she didn't move.
Simon's breath came shallow and fast. Every part of him screamed for her to stay—but another voice, deeper and more cautious, warned him how close they were to something they couldn't undo.
"Elena," he said, his voice barely audible, "what are we doing?"
She looked up, and for the first time, her eyes were vulnerable. "I don't know."
Neither of them moved.
Seconds passed like years.
Finally, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead—soft, slow, lingering longer than it should have.
Then she stood.
"Goodnight, Si."
"Goodnight."
She slipped out of the room like a ghost.
And Simon lay in the dark, heart pounding, knowing nothing was ever going to be the same.