I doze off, for how long I don't know. I wake to the squeak of the condo door being opened and look up to see my little sister walking in. She is shocked, and for a moment I do not know why. In the dim gray light, I make out Darren's outline on the love seat. Just the top of his head is visible, his still salty hair sticking out erratically. He is sleeping, and his slow heavy breathing is just barely audible. I meet my sister's eyes as she slowly shuts the door and drops her purse on the floor.

"Becky, I-"
"Save it, sister. This is not the first time I've caught you and one of your toys. Certainly not the worst time." She whispers at me.
"But it's not-"
"No, no details, thank you. I'm just going to go up to my room and plug in my ipod and read my book and not be here." She winks at me on her way up the staircase, to which I have no response.

I sit mortified for an unknown period of time before shakily wrapping the thick blanket around my shoulders. When I try to stand, I collapse to the couch. I try again, and succeed in standing only barely. But this is a success nonetheless, and I decide to take it. I wobble over to the kitchen counter and find a brush before shuffling back to the couch, all the while studiously ignoring the breathing lump on the loveseat. I collapse back onto the still-warm seat and begin attempting to untangle my hair. It is akin to trying to scalp myself.

"So," he says from the couch, his voice entirely too awake, "You bring your toys around all the time huh?"

I pause, taking a moment to both curse my little sister and my own bad luck. "Yes."

"But you didn't want to talk to me, get close to me, at all." He sits up and turns to face me, but I don't look at him.

"No, I didn't."