Sophia and I were friends.

    I couldn't believe she'd given me a nickname. I'd never really had one before. The guys on the football team called me Jones, until they caught on to the fact that my father call me Jakey. That was the beginning of the end. My mother hated nicknames. Why on earth would you shorten the name you were given? I guess, technically speaking, Jake was a nickname. Since my actual name was Jacob. But I'd gone by Jake for so long, I didn't think it counted.

    Sherlock. It was actually sort of perfect. When I was little, I'd always dreamed of being a detective. Come on, how hot would I look with one of those old timey pipes? Secretly, I still sort of wanted to be a detective. It seemed cool. The action and physical skill I thrived under, and I loved observing people. To do it for living, well— well, it wasn't possible anyways. My parents would never stand for it.

     Also, when she said it, her blue eyes sparking as she looked up at me from under those thick lashes, I just about died. The slight smirk of her full lips. Sherlock. It was sort of the hottest thing I'd ever witnessed. Sherlock, god that was hot.

    I glanced down at Sophia on my left, the sliding doors opening with a swish. Her suitcase was nearly as big as she was. I wondered briefly how she'd fit against me. How her waist would feel in my grasp. How her head would fit in the crook of my neck, and how her legs would lock around my hips. Jesus. I needed to cool down.

    Unfortunately, that was not an option.

    A blast of thick, hot air hit me in the face as we stepped out of the airport. I could immediately feel my neck perspire with sweat. Why on earth had I thought wearing a hoodie was a good idea?!

    "Damn, it's hot here," I remarked, fanning myself. Now I understood why people here were always at the beach.

    "Another astute observation," Sophia replied with a wry smile, and a perfectly placed roll of her eyes. I really liked when she made fun of me.

    I pursed my lips, "Don't get too cocky now, Randall." Although she had been right about the little sister thing. Technically, Brooklyn was my stepsister. My mother had remarried a couple years after she moved back to Chelsea. I didn't mind Bill. He was a neurologist at the university. Very quiet. Nothing at all like my father.

    There was a good ten year age gap between me and Brooklyn, but every time I visited them I made a point to spend time with her. Kids were fun, okay. And I knew how tough it was to be an only child. She was a cool kid too. Precocious and far too intelligent for her own good. I bet Sophia would like her.

    "Randall?" Sophia cocked her head.

    I lifted a shoulder, "You get a nickname too."

    "SOPH!" A high pitched squeal rang through the air. There was a dark haired girl waving her arms wildly, jumping up and down on the side of the curb.

    Sophia dropped her bags and ran to hug the young woman, "ABS!"

    So that was the older sister. She looked similar to Sophia, but like— a hippie version of Sophia. Same dark hair and olive skin. Though, her sister had brown eyes where Sophia's were blue. Her dark hair was short with choppy bangs, and bracelets of all shapes and sizes lined her wrists. She was good deal tanner that Sophia as well, freckles dotting her face and arms. I wondered if Sophia would get freckles too. I think that might be it for me, if she did. I'd just cease to live.

    I grabbed Sophia's discarded luggage in my free hand and made my way over to where a beat up, blue truck was parked.

    "Here," I said, handing Sophia her bags.

    "Oh—" Sophia spun around, almost like she'd forgotten I was there for a moment. "Thank you."

    Her sister leaned against the truckbed, arms crossed. She arched a pointed eyebrow, "And who is this?"

    Suddenly, I felt the need to impress this girl. She was obviously important to Sophia. I had to make a good first impression. It was vital.

    I held out my hand, "Jake. Jake Sullivan Jones."

    She paused for a moment, glancing at Sophia. She was obviously a little shocked. I don't think this was something Sophia did very often. Or ever.

    "Abigail— Abby Randall," Abigail took my hand.

    "That's funny."

    "My name?"

    "Oh no— it's just your names are both of Greek origin," I explained myself hurriedly. "Sophia means wise, and Abigail means delight— I just— I thought it was interesting..." I trailed off. I was just babbling now. And totally geeking out. So much for a first impression. I dared a peek at their expressions, which were both filled with amusement.  In fact, in that moment, they could've passed for twins.

    Abby let out a short laugh, nudging her sister, "Where'd you dig up this one, Soph?"

    "Right?" Sophia laughed too, eyeing me for a brief moment. She was pretty. So, so, so pretty. My entire brain went into overload when those electric blue irises were trained on me. Heart pounding loudly in my ears. Why the hell was it so hot here?!

    She was still explaining my presence, "His hotel fell through so I thought he could stay on the couch for a few nights. He's working at Kona Valley too."

    "If that's alright with you, of course," I added, feeling bad. I didn't want to be an imposition.

    "Not a problem," Abby reassured airily, long skirt swishing around her ankles as she put our stuff in the back of her truck. I wondered if Sophia's sister had dressed this way back when she still lived in Massachusetts. I couldn't picture it. Though, she fit in perfectly here.

    I slid into the backseat, while Sophia took the passenger's sear up front. I won't lie to you, I was a little disappointed. I suppose she had just spent the last 12 or so hours sitting next to me, sporadically as it was. And I couldn't blame her for wanting to spend time with her sister. Then again maybe she just felt sorry for me, and really couldn't stand me at all. God— this was hopeless. And pathetic. I was hopeless and pathetic. I still didn't even know if she was dating anyone or not.

    My mind kept wandering back to that picture on her lock screen. The blond guy with the monkey arms hanging all over Sophia. He probably had a stupid name. Like Sebastian, or Clark, or something equally douche baggy. Okay maybe that wasn't fair. I didn't know the guy. He could be an absolute saint.

    I hoped he wasn't.

    I hoped he was boring and dull and had no idea who Jane Austen was.

    Most of all, I really really hoped I was taller than him.

"Is Sage going to be okay with it?" Sophia was asking her sister.

    "Probably," Abby answered, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. "Seeing as they don't live there anymore."

    "What?!" Sophia exclaimed. "What happened?"

    Abby shrugged, nonchalant, "Didn't work out."

    "I liked them! Sage was funny, and nice. Better than most of your other relationships." Sophia protested. "They had all those cool tattoos. And their red hair was amazing."

    "That should have been my first red flag," Abby winked, "get it?"

    Sophia groaned, "No. Abs this has to stop." She swiveled around in her seat to face me, "She makes horrible dad jokes. They usually include puns." She emphasized, "Bad puns."

    "Whatever Soph," Abby flicked the side of her sister's head. "Anyone who dyes their hair that color has issues."

    "Um— do I need to remind you of your junior year of highschool?"

    "Shut up!"

    This was why I had always wanted a sibling. I'd begged and begged my mother and father for years. A brother. Or a sister. I didn't care. It was so lonely growing up, especially in my dad's big, empty house. With its modern style, there was a lot of glass, and stone. Cold things. I spent as little time in my house as possible.

    "Well, I'm going to miss them," Sophia said with a little sigh. "I thought they were good for you."

    I had noted the use of the they/them pronouns. I knew I'd spotted a pan flag sticker on the back of the car. Danny would be proud of me for recognizing it. I would have to tell him later. He'd made it his mission to educate me on all thing LGBTQ. So help me god, you will not be another uneducated dimwit straighter than a ruler football player. We'd actually gone to pride last year in San Francisco. Lots of people thought we were a couple. I was flattered. Danny was offended. I have standards, please.

    I missed him. He'd been my best friend since freshman year. I knew a bunch of guys from football already, and they were fine, I guess. But they were also sort of mind numbingly boring. Also, way too obsessed with football. Like my dad. Danny was different. He played soccer with a couple guys from the football team, the more tolerable ones. So he was already in my friend group. We were in the same AP Language class, he was the only one I knew in it, and we'd bonded somehow.

    After that, I spent every spare moment at his house. I loved Danny's house. He had four siblings, two older sisters, and two younger brothers. HIs house was always loud and his mom was a fantastic cook. I could wolf down like six of her tamales in one sitting.

    Once, Danny dared me to eat as many of them as I could in ten minutes. I threw up after. But it was worth it.

    We were always doing stupid stuff like that. Daring each other to jump off of things or into things, to put tinfoil in the microwave, set off fireworks in an abandoned parking lot. My dad hated it, which was probably why I continued to do it. Also, I loved the thrill, the rush, it was why I loved football when I first started.

    I may have almost broken my leg when Danny dared me to jump off the roof of his house into the pool at one of our parties. In my defense, we were both very drunk. Which probably didn't help my case. Dad had been so pissed that time. Think of your future Jakey, what if you couldn't play football anymore?

    I'd be fine. Personally, I could care less about football. But my father had never understood that.

    "We're here," Abby called in a sing song voice, turning the truck down a gravel drive way. Before us stood a tiny, light blue house. In fact, the color of it was almost identical to the color of the car. And, oddly enough, surprisingly close to the color of Sophia's eyes. It must mean something, that particular shade of blue. It was more than just a favorite.

    I'd been expecting an apartment, maybe a condo. But this was an actual house, miniature and dilapidated as it was. The view was amazing however, we were basically on the beach, just a couple yards away from the edge of the sand.

    I rolled my bag up the rickety steps, white paint peeling on the creaking wood. It sagged under my suitcase's weight.

    Abby turned the doorknob, gesturing with a flourish as it swung open, "Home sweet home."

    "Abs!" Sophia exclaimed, hands on her hips. "You didn't lock the door?"

    "Nobody does here, Soph," Abby replied.

    Sophia and I surveyed the house. It was cute, cozy. Kind of exactly what I'd expected from Abby. There were plants everywhere, and about a bajillion different rugs. It was cluttered with knickknacks and candles and haphazard books. A half eaten smoothie bowl rested on the counter, and there was a fruit covered blender beside it. I spotted a surfboard leaning against the fence outside, covered with sand. I didn't know how to surf. But I always wanted to try. It seemed cool.

    "Abby what is that?" Sophia asked, peering up at the ceiling. There was a mid sized, brownish stain above us, looking ominous. "Is that water damage?" Sophia's voice rose several octaves. "How long has that been there? Abby you need to get that fixed!"

    "Chill, Soph," Abby rolled her eyes, head knocking back in exasperation. I had a feeling this was a frequent occurrence. From my very brief experience with her, I knew for certain that Sophia was a big worrier. Abby was definitely not.

    "Toxic mold could be growing, it rains here all the time, and—"

    "It's fine," Abby interrupted, throwing her keys on the kitchen table. "You have not changed at all, Soph."

    "Neither have you," Sophia muttered under her breath, a sour note to her tone.

    This must be a sore subject between them. At least, it seemed like it. My theory was confirmed in the next second, when Abby ruffled her sister's hair, "Relax, little sister. Everything is under control."

    "I am relaxed," Sophia lips were pinched tightly together, teeth gritted. And I saw her fiddle with the chain around her neck. She was not relaxed.

    "That vein popping out in your forehead says differently," Abby smirked, and Sophia tensed up even more. Abby squeezed her sister tight, "Lighten up, Sophia, you're in Hawaii now." She turned to me, "Don't you think she needs to lighten up a bit?"

    I gulped, put on the spot. This was not a question I wanted to answer. Both sisters' eyes were on me. I cleared my throat, "I— um— I mean— I don't—"

    Thankfully I was saved. A small meow came from below, an orange tabby cat slinking out from behind a dark green armchair.

    "Stevie!" Abby cooed, bending down to pet the animal.

    I'd never had pets growing up. My mom used mice and guinea pigs in some of her experiments, but she never liked animal much. My dad thought they were too much of a hassle.

    "Stevie?" I whispered to Sophia, brow furrowing.

    "For Stevie Nicks," she answered.

    "Ah," I nodded. "I'm more of a dog person, not gonna lie."

    Sophia smiled, "Same."

    Happiness coursed through me. Another thing we had in common. And another smile. Maybe it wasn't so hopeless after all.

    "Crazy people," Abby shook her head, snuggling with the cat. "They're so crazy. Aren't they, Stevie? So crazy."

    "Says the lady talking to her cat," Sophia raised a pointed eyebrow.

    Abby stuck her tongue out at her, finally rising to her feet. I was glad the tension from earlier had passed.

    "Well, I'm off to work" she said, dusting her skirt off. "Terry put me on the early shift, the shithead. Who takes yoga at eight in the morning?" Abbybegan to pack up a tie dyed tote bag, shoving a paint splattered yoga mat in with much force. Of course she taught yoga. I was a little mad at myself for not guessing that to start with.

    Abby pointed at the kitchen, "Food is in the fridge, though it's pretty sparse. I didn't make it to the market this week. Sheets are int the cabinet for the pullout couch. I don't know what you guys want to do—"

    "Sleep," Sophia and I chorused in unison. I had never been more tired in my life. I'd been up for what seemed like twenty four hours. Maybe it was twenty four hours. My time zones were all messed up.

    "Cool," Abby chuckled, "I'll be back around three or four. Maybe five...Oh-! Also, don't forget you have orientation tomorrow, Soph." She paused, "I guess you do too, Jake."

    I shot her a thumbs up, while Sophia sighed, face glum.

     "Tomorrow?" she huffed.

    "You're gonna have fun, Soph!" Abby blew her a kiss, "Love you! Bye!"

    And just like that, Sophia and I were alone together again. We were silent for a few moments, awkwardness falling over us. I felt like an idiot. Say something! I commanded myself. Say something, you dunce!

    Instead, it was Sophia who spoke up first, "Do you— um— do you need help with the pull out? I can get the sheets if you want."

    "Oh no— it's fine. I'm sure I can figure it out, you don't have to—"

    "No, I wanna help," she insisted, holding her ground. "It's no problem."

    I didn't argue with her. By this point, I knew well enough not to. So she went off to get the sheets, and set to work on the couch. It pulled out easily, though it did release a significant amount of dust when I did. I sneezed three times. There were pillows on the shelf to the right of me, and I got a few down. Thankfully, these were not covered in dust.

    I frowned. Sophia still wasn't back with the sheets. What was taking her so long? I ventured down the narrow hallway, where I found her jumping up and down in front of a closet. Ah ha. The sheets were on the top shelf. Which evidently, she couldn't reach.

    I bit my lip to keep from laughing, "Can you get the sheets?"

    Sophia wheeled around, startled, "Shut up, Sherlock."

    I tapped her on the shoulder, mouth tilting up at the corners, "Do you need some help?"

    "No!" She crossed her arms.

    "Sophia it's no big deal," I assured her. I attempted to reach over her to grab the sheets. "I can get them down."

    She blocked my way, refusing to move. She was shockingly strong for such a tiny person. It was very cute.

    "I can do it myself, thank you very much."

    Sophia clambered up the shelves, wobbling precariously as she did so. It was not stable. She was teetering on the edge of these shelves, it was a colossally bad idea.

    She finally grasped them, triumphant, "See, I told yo— ah!"

    And just like that, Sophia toppled off of the shelves.

    Straight into my arms.

    I caught her easily. It was just as I had suspected, she fit perfectly against me. Soft and warm, I had to resist the urge to draw her close to my chest and bury my face into her hair. The scent of roses filled my nose. Oh my god. This was the worst and best thing that had ever happened to me.

    "Hi there," I managed, smiling like a lunatic.

    "Hi," Sophia breathed, gaze locking with mine. Her eyes went wide, and she leaped out of my hold, "Sorry— I didn't— sorry."

    She was flustered. I had made her flustered. The good kind of flustered. Her cheeks were red and everything. Things were looking up for Jake Sullivan Jones.

    I grinned broadly, "Don't worry about it, Randall."

    "Um— thank you," she murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear. "For catching me." There was a beat.

    "Oh— uh— here are your sheets," she thrust them at me hurriedly. Then her lips curved up ever so slightly, "I told you I could do it."

    She was adorable. I patted the sheets, "That you did."

    "Well— goodnight or— not night I guess— but—um..." Sophia trailed off.

    "Goodnight, Sophia."

    I watched her disappear into room at the end of the hall. I sort of wished I'd hugged her. I mean, I knew it was good I didn't, but still. I could not believe we were going to be working together. Nearly everyday, morning to night. I'd thought I was dreaming when she said she was working there too. I did not usually get that lucky.

    I shed my disgusting plane clothes and changed into a pair of ratty old basketball shorts. As I was about to climb into bed, my phone buzzed.

    Danny: DUDE!

    Danny: DUDE!
     Danny: HELLO

    Jake: What's up?

    Danny: where the hell have you been loca

    Jake: don't tell me u watched twilight again

    Jake: I thought I hid those

    Danny: u did

    Danny: i found them

    Danny: HE SPARKLES IN THE SUN OKAY

    Jake: That's the skin of a killer, dan

    Danny: he's a bad boy 😩😈

    Jake: R u high

    Danny: no

    Danny: yes

    Danny: LET ME LIVE OUT MY NOT LIKE OTHER GIRLS BELLA SWAN LIFE

    Jake: I wld never stand in the way of ur dreams

    Danny: speaking of dreams

    Danny: how's plane girl

    Jake: her name is Sophia

    Danny: omg you got her name

    Danny: progress

    Jake: I'm actually at her place rn

    Danny: HELLO❓❗️

    Danny: WHAT
     Danny: EXCUSE ME

    Danny: I THINK WE MISSED SOME CHAPTERS JACOB

    Danny: wtf that escalated quickly

    Jake: NOT LIKE THAT

    Danny: ok ok that makes more sense

    Danny: for a moment there i was like does jake actually have game?

    Jake: HEY!

    Jake: that was uncalled for 🙄

    Danny: so how did this even happen?

    Danny: did you hypnotize her or smth

    Danny: jacob did you threaten her

    Jake: This is bullying

    Danny: TELL ME

    Jake: can I call you tmw?

    Jake: I need to sleep

    Jake: like desperately

    Danny: fine 😒

    Danny: sleep ig

    Danny: be healthy 🤮

    Jake: gn Danny

    Danny: sweet dreams my little spider monkey

    Jake: I am taking those DVD's away again the second I get back

    Danny: fair