You wished that you could say it was all an accident. That you hadn't meant to do it, it wasn't intentional. That, if you could, you would take it back.
But you can't say those things.
Because you did mean to do it, there were no accidents only intentions.
You had no regrets.
And you would never want to take it back.
He wasn't yours, and you knew that.
He was hers.
Which is why you should feel remorseful, want to say that nothing was deliberate and all was unintended.
But you are so tired of lying.
"Have you heard? There's some new kid! Apparently he's gorgeous." Harper continuously prattles on in your ear about some new kid and apparently doesn't care that you aren't paying any attention.
You roll your eyes at her; about to let her know that it isn't really a new kid it's just your lame brother in better clothes when she freezes and whisper-screams, "Oh. My. God," in your ear.
You don't really care, but curiosity has gotten the better of you. So you look at where she's pointing through the crowded hallway and you see him.
He's gorgeous.
His normally spiked hair is falling in to his gray-green eyes in that artfully messy style and his style is completely different. He's wearing a tight black v-neck shirt, muscles on display that you didn't know he had, and dark denim covered his legs down to classic black converse.
He looks absolutely delectable.
And you're a take-charge kind of person, so you straighten up and walk towards him. You lean against the locker next to his and smirk when he turns to look at you.
"Hey." You say, smirk widening when he raises one eyebrow at you.
"Hello." He's looking at you kind of funny and you know it's because you're unintentionally using you're flirty voice but who really cared anyways?
"I noticed you were new here. I was wondering if you needed any help getting around or with anything…" You trail off at the end, smirking as you laugh at the rest of the students' confusion. He laughs as well, sliding his arm around your shoulders and walking you to art class.
You can feel Harper's glare burning into your back as he tightens his arm when you say something particularly funny but once again, who really cares?
You walk with him all the way to the classroom and as he begins to walk away you notice one of your new friends walking towards you so you introduce the two and then he's grinning at her and she's giggling at him and you're staring in disbelief at the scene.
They're eyes are locked together.
And you're forgotten.
In hindsight, introducing them was a ridiculously stupid thing to do. Because as much as you loved your new friend, those of the male persuasion loved her twice that amount. But you knew his type (and no it really wasn't weird that you tended to place yourself in the category of girls you think he likes), and you thought that made it safe because you and your friend were like night and day.
You were loud, devious, with not-quite-black hair and dark brown eyes. You smirked more than you smiled because you thought smiles had to be earned and you didn't like wasting them on people that didn't deserve it. You were surprisingly shy (not that you let anyone know about it) and sarcasm was your go-to defense mechanism. You don't care about others and everything that you do is done for yourself, but you care about him and you try to let him know.
She was quiet, kind of nerdy, and the very definition of delicate. She had blonde hair, cut short because she didn't like putting effort into it, and light blue eyes that are always glimmering with things that she won't say out loud. She cares too much and you have the suspicion that she's a people-pleasing kind of person.
So you thought that there wasn't any danger in him liking her.
You were wrong.
They met, and that was the end. They were in like and in lust and everyone knew that soon the like would turn into love and the lust would change into passion and that they were going to be one of those high school sweetheart couples that were still married and in love years later.
But there was a minor miscalculation.
Everybody forgot to factor you into the equation.
And why would they? There didn't seem any need to. You were friends with her but you were his sister and there is no way that you really should have mattered at all.
But you were a factor.
An extremely important one.
Because he looked at you like he looked at her, invited you to hang out on the weekends, agreed on you with things and came to you with all his secrets.
And yeah, so you were related or whatever, but what siblings actually enjoyed hanging out with each other? You didn't know anyone that told their sibling all their secrets and fears and neither one of you two even did that with Max.
But he made you a factor in his relationship with her.
You tried to back off, because you weren't really into getting hurt and he was your brother and you shouldn't be feeling this way.
But he seemingly refused to let you go.
You still don't know if everything he did was intentional, if he thought out all the ways he was going to drive you crazy and make you want him.
And you don't know if you were just reading too much into things. If the fact was that he didn't really like you like you, but he just thought of you as a friend, as a sister, as someone to talk to when his girlfriend wasn't around.
"Hey! Wait up!" You pause long enough for him to catch up to you on your way out of school.
"What's up?" You say, a smile sliding onto your face to match his grin.
"Not much. I was wondering if you were busy this weekend? I really want to go to the movies. Thought it might be fun to go with you." He looks hopeful, and you're more than slightly confused, because he looks like a guy who's scared because he's asking out the girl that he likes for the first time and that isn't right because he already has a girlfriend.
And you're also kind of wondering why he's asking you because, well, once again, you're just the little sister.
"You don't want to go with your girlfriend?" You respond quickly, trying to keep hope out of your voice because you aren't hoping that he's going to say something like, 'I dumped her'. Really. You aren't.
"Oh, she's busy this weekend. Again." He laughs while he says it, affection in his tone as he shakes his head fondly.
And your hopes come crashing down quite painfully. (And more painful? The fact that you were hoping at all.)
"Sorry, I can't this weekend. Mom's on the war path." You lie quickly and easily, because lying is one of the only things you're good at.
"Oh." And he looks so disappointed that you just can't stop yourself.
"I'm sure I could sneak out somehow… what time?" As soon as you're done speaking you cringe inwardly and call yourself all kinds of stupid.
The broad grin on his face is almost worth it.
"Around noon? Don't worry. I'll talk to mom for you." And then he's running off, away from you and towards her and you've never felt so idiotic in your entire life.
You wince as they hug and he plants a kiss on her forehead and she smiles adoringly up at him and you feel like your watching a car crash but you can't look away. She notices you looking and waves at you before turning back to him, they're fingers locking together as they talk.
You swallow, closing your eyes and clenching your hands into fists and refusing to cry as you walk in the opposite direction.
You went to the movies and had a great time and you started hanging out with each other regularly. He was still dating her, but it seemed as if he was spending all his free time with you.
And then, a couple months later, the thing that you really should want to take back but you can't bring yourself to regret occurred.
You noticed that they were fighting. Well actually, she text you last night to whine about him and he woke you up early this morning to complain about her. So finding out they were fighting really wasn't your choice.
But if you hadn't known they were fighting, it would've been obvious by now. Everybody was at a party, and they were standing at opposite sides of the living room, glaring at each other and looking seconds away from entering an intense screaming match.
He's the first to turn away, and he walks up to you.
He weaves through the mass of people and grasps your hand, pulling you towards the front door.
Everyone else just nods, like this is understandable, like it's so obvious that he would come to you for comfort and you even notice Harper smiling at the two of you like your adorable or something.
You begin walking to the door and you turn back once to look at your friend. She looks betrayed, but there's this resignation in her eyes and you know she knows and you feel so guilty for a minute that you can't breathe, but then he squeezes your hand and you turn away from her and the guilt fades away.
He pulls you out the front door towards his car and opens the door for you and you get in and then there's just silence.
You drive for a while, two hours you think but the clock on his dashboard is broken and you left all your stuff, cell phone included, back at the party.
He pulls over and you smile when you realize that you've hit the coast. You jump out of the car, sliding your shoes off and sprinting into the sand.
You wade into the water, the bottom of your dress getting wet and shoes left back on the shore, and when he comes up beside you he grabs your hand. You grin over at him, turning your head up so that you can look at the crescent moon.
You love the moon, it makes you feel protected and as if it doesn't matter if you lose the wizard competition because magic is still everywhere and in everything.
"Sorry I just pulled you out of there. I just had to leave, and for some reason I wanted to take you with me." He finally speaks and you turn away from the moon to look at him. Your eyes lock with his and you wonder what you're doing here.
"For some reason?" You aren't sure what answer you're expecting, but it certainly wasn't what you got.
"Yeah. Some reason." It's barely a whisper and he pulls you into him, one arm around your waist and the other hand threading through your hair. One of your hands rests on his chest while the other grips his shoulder and you look up at him with questions in your eyes.
He looks back, leans down, and kisses you.
It's simple, just his lips pressing against yours but you feel like you're burning and he pulls you closer and you don't resist.
You feel a mix of exhilaration and relief and shame even as you kiss him back.
Shame because not only was he your friend's boyfriend, but also he was your brother, he was forbidden.
But you were exhilarated that he finally chose you.
And there was such strong relief that no one but the moon and the ocean were witness to this huge mistake that you were aware you were making.
That was two nights ago.
Two nights ago when you stood in the ocean and let the boy of your dreams kiss you in the light of the moon.
You shouldn't have done it, and you knew that.
They were still technically dating, he was someone else's boyfriend, and he was your brother.
But you still did it. And when you think about it, you don't feel guilt or remorse, you just feel confused.
Because he hasn't talked to you since then, no text messages, no calls, no visits. He even avoided you at home, waking up at the crack of dawn (which just wasn't fair because you really can't be expected to be coherent before 12) and making excuses about being sick to the rest of the family before disappearing in to his room and refusing to open the door for you.
So now you're not sure what's going to happen.
It's Monday, and you walk into school, and you see them.
You freeze, barely breathing as you stare. He has an arm wrapped around her waist and a hand in her hair and he's smiling at her like she's the best thing in the whole world. She has her hands wrapped around his neck and is grinning too, like she just won the lottery. She sees you first and you unfreeze when she calls your name.
"Hey! We got back together. He called the next morning and said he was sorry and that he didn't even know why we were fighting. Said he'd do anything to get me back." She's smiling as she tells you the story and he is still looking at her, refusing to even glance your way.
You grin at her, murmur something about that being wonderful and then some excuse about having class before you nearly sprint away down the hall.
You stop in an empty classroom, sitting there and staring out the window at the fluffy white clouds, one crystalline tear sliding gracefully down your cheek.
It wasn't your intention to hurt her, or to kiss him.
But it happened and you didn't regret it.
Apparently he did.
You hear the door open and close again but you refuse to turn around because he doesn't deserve to see you cry.
"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you. I like you but…" He trails off and you can hear his feet shuffling and you know that he's running his hands through his hair because you know him and it's what he does when he gets nervous.
"But you like her more and you know there is that whole family thing." You finish the sentence for him, even though the words taste bitter as you force them out and the joke is a pathetic attempt at avoiding what's happening.
"I'm sorry." He whispers it and in that moment you hate him more than you've ever hated anything in your life.
You get up and walk to the door, slipping past him and out of the room.
And you hate yourself for hoping that he's going to call you back, tell you to wait, something, anything.
But instead you hear nothing.
And you keep walking, opening the front doors, and getting into the car that the two of you share, the car that you were in two nights ago but then you were with him and now you're alone.
You turn it on and start driving, the temptation to reach into your boot and grab your wand and just change all of this so strong but you don't do it because you can't bring yourself to take it back because that would mean you regret it and you don't.
You reach the shore in a couple hours, and it's just beginning to get dark. You walk to the place where it happened and lie down in the sand.
It's a full moon tonight.
You stare up at it, so bright that it makes you blink and leaves spots in your eyes.
Tears fill your eyes again but you wont let them fall.
He is not worth it.
It wasn't you intention to hurt anyone.
And you hope it wasn't his intention to hurt you.
But intentions didn't matter, not really, because choices were what mattered and his choice wasn't you.
But you wouldn't cry.
He wasn't worth it.