The Bad Sister. Kevin O'Brien
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a lot of high-society charity work. A junior at Our Lady of the Cove, she would be living with Hannah in one of the dorm “bungalows.” Rachel would be acting as their “big sister” and adviser. Hannah had been worried that her big-sister-roommate might turn out to be a first-class snob, a goody-two-shoes Patty Simcox (Oh, we’re going to be such good friends!), or maybe just a major drip.
Taking off at eight-forty this morning, Hannah had flown from Seattle to Chicago, accompanied by her half-sister, Eden, who, much to Hannah’s chagrin, would also start her freshman year at the university.
For the trip, and to make a good impression on the kids at Our Lady of the Cove, Hannah looked pretty smashing in khaki slacks, a new blue sleeveless top, and blue flats. Meanwhile, Eden wore a black tee under a pair of hideous, unflattering yellow overall shorts, with red sneakers—just what every fashion-forward lesbian was wearing in Wyoming eleven years ago. Hannah had been totally embarrassed sitting next to her on the plane. And there was just enough family resemblance between them for people to figure out they were related.
Together, they’d taken the CTA from O’Hare to Union Station and then caught the Metra commuter train from there. It had been a long, grueling day so far. Eden had picked these seats on the upper deck because she’d thought it would be cool to sit above everyone else in the train car. But it wasn’t so cool lugging four big pieces of luggage up the winding, narrow metal staircase. No sooner had they gotten settled in their upper-level seats and secured the suitcases on the luggage rack than Eden promptly got to her feet again. She announced that she wanted to “explore” and then disappeared, leaving Hannah alone to look after all the bags.
That had been forty-five minutes ago. So typical. Eden had driven Hannah’s parents crazy by disappearing for hours at a time—or even for a day or two—without telling anyone. She was always off on some stupid, Kerouac-like mini-adventure, hitchhiking or taking the ferry someplace, and switching off her phone so no one could reach her. During spring vacation last year, Hannah’s parents had called the police when Eden disappeared. It had been three whole days before she finally called them from Oregon, where she’d been picking apples on some farm.
So Hannah told herself not to be too alarmed that her half-sister had wandered off. Still, it was unnerving. Every time Hannah heard the doors between cars whoosh open, she’d anxiously glance down in that direction, hoping to see Eden returning.
It was weird, because months back, when she’d learned that Eden would be going off to college with her, Hannah had been horrified. After the last two awful years at home, she’d desperately wanted to leave Seattle and start fresh someplace where no one knew her. Then, it turned out, the person who had caused her so much grief, humiliation, and shame was accompanying her to Our Lady of the Cove. So much for a fresh start. Hannah had hoped something would happen—like maybe her half-sister would pull another one of her disappearing acts and this time, not come back. Hannah didn’t want Eden dead or anything. She just wanted Eden out of her life. Why couldn’t her half-sister just run away and join a cult or something?
Now, Hannah was worried one of those wishes had come back to bite her in the ass.
She hated the uncertainty. Had Eden gotten off at an earlier stop to look around, and then missed getting back on the train? Maybe right now, she was on the train platform five stops back.
Hannah sent her a text:
Where R U? R stops coming up.
Just moments later, her phone buzzed.
But it wasn’t Eden.
Riley was texting her. His photo came up, the one of him in shorts and a T-shirt, standing on the deck of a boat. He was so handsome with his wavy blond hair, a tan, and that lean, athletic build. He was a sophomore at Northwestern. Several train stops back, in Evanston, Hannah had found herself smiling at the thought of that stop becoming a frequent destination.
Though she’d dreaded attending Our Lady of the Cove with her half-sister, Hannah did have a few things she looked forward to—and at the top of the list was Riley McCarren.
She hadn’t actually met him yet, but they’d been texting, video-chatting, and talking on the phone for weeks now. Hannah couldn’t help feeling that he was the one.
She touched the phone’s text icon:
What’s up? R U in Chicago yet?
Hannah worked her thumbs over the phone screen:
On the train. Delmar in 2 more stops! U were right. It’s not that far from Evanston.
Told U.
My stupid half-sister has totally disappeared. I keep thinking she might’ve gotten off at the wrong stop sometime back. I have 4 big suitcases here and don’t want to lug them all by myself. She’s got 2 B somewhere on this train.
Maybe she’s locked in one of the bathrooms. LOL.
UR a big help. When R U getting in? Can’t wait to C U.
Riley lived in Boston, and with his accent, he sounded like Mark Wahlberg on the phone. Hannah couldn’t remember if he was flying in tomorrow or Saturday morning. They’d agreed to meet this Saturday night.
Her mother had pitched a fit about her communicating and setting up a date with this guy she hadn’t even met yet. For all she knew, her mom said, some pervert could have been using a photo of a J.Crew model to lure her into his web.
Her mom was naturally cautious because of the thing that happened.
The thing that happened—that was what Hannah called the series of horrendous events that accounted for the last two miserable years. The thing that happened had made national news headlines for several days. She and Eden had become reluctant Internet stars, and they’d each garnered their share of stalkers. Though most of the whack-jobs had moved on ages ago (probably to other teenage girls in the news), a few nutcases were still out there.
But Riley wasn’t one of them. As he explained, his freshman year roommate had developed an Internet crush on her for a while—until he’d gotten a girlfriend and transferred to U of I mid-year. But last spring, the former roommate had forwarded Riley one of Hannah’s Instagrams about getting into Our Lady of the Cove—just a few Metra stops away from Northwestern. Riley couldn’t resist sending her a message and suggesting they get together when she came to the Chicago area. He’d said he thought she was “pretty cute, too.”
According to her mother, Hannah was only encouraging stalkers by posting so much stuff on social media. But really, she wasn’t about to give up the things she loved—just because of a few obsessive creeps. Besides, she took precautions. Unlike her half-sister, she didn’t talk to strangers or wander off alone for hours at a time. She watched out for herself.
Plus, if she hadn’t been posting regularly on social media, she never would have connected with Riley.
And Hannah was no fool. After a few texts back and forth, she’d insisted on some FaceTime sessions with Riley. She needed to make sure the gorgeous photo was real. She was delighted to see he was the genuine article. Making things even better was the fact that he was already a college guy. Plus he knew all about her, and he still liked her. After two years of feeling like a freak at her high school, Riley made her feel cool and desirable.
Nevertheless, her mother kept warning Hannah that she was telling this stranger way too much about herself. Maybe that was why, in the back of her mind, Hannah wondered if Riley was too good to be true.
From the three dots in the text box, it looked like Riley was writing something. It was taking him a while.
The train car doors hissed open, and Hannah glanced down, hoping to see her half-sister returning. Instead, some guy in a business suit stepped into the car. Hannah glanced back at her phone. Riley’s text finally came up:
Bad news. I’m not flying in until later this week. Family emergency. Major hassle, but it can’t B helped. Looks like I won’t C U until next weekend . . .
Hannah’s heart sank. She