August, 1987
Michael stood in his room and looked through the list he'd made of things to pack to make sure he'd gotten everything. It was late and everyone was asleep except Lindsay, whose light was still on across the hallway. He was surprised she was still awake. She'd barely been able to make it up the stairs she was so drunk when they'd gotten home half an hour ago.
He guiltily remembered how he'd held her hand on the roof. It wasn't that bad, it was just holding hands, but it seemed so much worse. Too bad it's a hypothetical situation. What had he been thinking? It was a good thing he was leaving tomorrow, he needed to get out of here.
He heard footsteps in the hallway. His door opened and Lindsay came in. His mouth went dry when he saw her standing there in the doorway. She was wearing the same white t-shirt and acid-washed jeans as before, but somehow she looked even better.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," she said, smiling shyly, though she didn't meet his eyes. She closed the door and walked unsteadily through the suitcases strewn across the floor to where he stood. "D'you need any help packing?" she asked.
"Oh, thanks," he said, surprised. Lindsay rarely offered to help with anything. "Uh, no, I'm pretty much done."
"Oh, okay," she said. She had one arm across her body and she was looking at the floor. "I can't believe you're leaving tomorrow," she said, her voice wavering slightly.
"Yeah, me neither," he said, wondering why she looked so nervous. He watched her take a deep breath and then exhale slowly.
"I'll miss you," she said.
"I'll miss you, too."
The corners of her mouth curled up into a small smile, but she still didn't meet his eyes. She bit her lip.
"Uh, is there something you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked uncertainly.
Her mouth opened slightly. She looked up at him. Then she laughed. "Yeah, something like that," she said quietly. Then she stepped forward and kissed him.
He stepped back in surprise, but she put her hand behind his head and pulled him back to her. He stood in shock for a moment, trying to process that this was actually happening, but she didn't pull away, she just kept kissing him desperately, and then without really making a conscious decision he was kissing her back. He felt her tense in surprise, and that just made him hate himself even more, that she'd thought he wouldn't, but then she was wrapping her arms around him and he was losing himself in the taste of vodka on her lips and the feeling of her hand in his hair. He uncertainly put his hand on her waist, then moved it to her back and pulled her closer to him. She made a small noise of surprise, but he ignored it, thinking about the feeling of her body against his while half-heartedly trying not to enjoy it.
She pulled away from him and took off her shirt, revealing her lacy black bra. They stared at each other for a moment, both a little stunned. He thought he saw a glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes. But then she kissed him again, with even more intensity and desperation than before, and all he could do was kiss her back. He vaguely registered her hand moving down his arm and then she took his hand in hers and climbed onto the bed, pulling him with her. He climbed on top of her, pushing one of his suitcases to the edge of the bed to make room for them. Your sister, he said to himself, but it just made him want her more. She wrapped her legs around him, kicking the suitcase off the bed as she did so that his books and clothes spilled out on the floor.
"Oh, sorry," she said.
He laughed shakily. "It's fine."
She laughed, too, and something about the sound of it made him realize that this was Lindsay, more familiar to him than anyone. They looked at each other, a little surprised to find themselves there. She smiled breathlessly up at him. He kissed her again.
She wasn't nervous anymore, he could feel it. His worries were starting to fade into the background as well. He didn't know how far she wanted to go, or how far he wanted to go for that matter, but he tried not to think about that as he kissed her mouth, and then her cheek, and then her neck, passing over the necklace he'd given her. She sighed as he moved down her neck, and he kind of liked that, that it was him who was turning her on like that.
She reached down and fumbled with the button on her jeans. His heart skipped a beat. They couldn't actually have sex, she was his sister, they were twins. But then she was unzipping her jeans, and pulling them off, and he was struggling to remember what was so wrong about it. He kissed her again, afraid to do anything else, trying to ignore that his first time was going to be with his sister and that the word "incest" was playing over and over in his head. But he wanted her so much, he'd wanted this for years, and it didn't feel wrong, it felt inevitable. It was okay, no one would know as long as they were quiet.
She could get pregnant. A cold shock went through him as the realization hit him. He tried to ignore it, he wanted her so badly. It was unlikely, just one time, but Jesus Christ, what if he got his sister pregnant?
He pulled away from her. "We shouldn't," he said breathlessly.
"Doesn't matter," she said, and kissed him again. He closed his eyes. They didn't have to go all the way, they could just keep doing this. But it didn't feel good anymore, he was too repulsed by the idea of her having his deformed baby. They didn't belong together, it was exactly the opposite.
He pulled away again. "No, we really shouldn't," he said, climbing off of her and sitting up. She propped herself up on her elbow.
"It's okay," she said. "No one will know." She smiled weakly. "I love you so much."
He looked at his sister sitting on the bed in her underwear, her hair coming out of her braid, her face flushed from the alcohol, telling him that she loved him.
"This is wrong…" he said, more to himself than to her. He got off the bed and quickly walked towards the door.
"Wait, Michael," she called after him, but he ignored her and closed the door behind him.
He stood in the dark hallway, his heart pounding, the reality of what had just happened finally sinking in. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. It was okay if he never acted on it, that was what he'd always told himself, as long as he never did anything about it. But he hadn't gone through with it, that had to count for something. But he should have stopped it as soon as she'd kissed him. He thought about how he'd climbed on top of her, kissed her neck. God, it disgusting, and wrong, and perverted, his own sister.
I love you so much. Right then, like that made it okay, when really it made it so much worse. She wasn't really in love with him, she was just confusing her normal, sisterly love for something romantic, so desperate for someone to be attracted to her. That was how this whole thing had started, the only reason she thought she was in love with him was that he was the only one who had paid any attention when she was starving herself. He shouldn't have let it get this far, he shouldn't have led her on this whole last year just because he liked the attention. What was wrong with him?
He jumped as he heard the creak of footsteps on the stairs. He hadn't realized anyone else was still awake. Gob came up the stairs.
"What's up with you?" he said when he saw Michael's face.
Michael sighed. "I've made a huge mistake."
