Song:
"abcdefu" - Gayle

As expected, Janelle gaped at the beautifully decorated house, with the meticulous lights my OCD father had likely forced the boys to help him hang twinkling against the backdrop of night. They matched the randomly placed spruce trees along the long driveway that led to home and the perfectly placed inflatables he collected in hopes one of my brothers or me would have children someday. Children he could spoil and wow with his decorating skills. "Your house is incredible, Mrs. Bell."

"Linda," her mother insisted, already helping with the bags.

I smiled. It was no use telling her I could grab them. She'd deny me and tell me not to bother.

Hands in my pockets, I glanced at the two-story home, with all its varying rooftop heights and many windows. Not realizing just how much I missed it.

Janelle narrowed her gaze on me. "You didn't tell me your family was rich."

"Well off," I corrected, my breath fogging. "And you never asked."

"Cause I assumed you were broke," she clipped back. Not angry, just surprised. "You play the part of a struggling student well enough."

That I did, with all my trips to the thrift store in search of knick-knacks to complete our shared apartment, our monthly budget dinner's shared over pizza and beer, and my preference of no-name chips over brand name because it reminded me of my youth when my family wasn't so well off. "I pay for my education," I shrugged, and it wasn't because my family made me. It was because I craved independence. So I could say that I'd done it on my own.

"That's why you work at the bar."

It was one of many reasons, but—"Yes."

Janelle gazed at me with what I could only assume was admiration before saying, "Better than Dallas."

"Don't start," I said. It was bad enough that my family would say something about his absence. I didn't need Janelle going along with it.

She wasn't particularly fond of the forward, and she never said why but seized any chance to rip into him whenever the opportunity presented itself. Perhaps it was her dislike of jocks. Or maybe she was just overprotective. He did have a reputation for being a player, and it wasn't something I minded when he first showed up in the bar I worked in.

"I'm just saying," she grinned before disappearing behind the truck door to grab her suitcase before my mother could.

The warmth of home crashed into me as my mother opened the door, the smells of cinnamon spice and baked bread opening my heart like a three-pronged key.

I smiled inside, taking in the open foyer before my eyes wandered past the oak floors to the glass windows adorned with garland to the patio and the yard beyond.

Janelle near gapped, why I didn't know, her sister's house was just as impressive, but here she was, jaw unhinged as she cranked her neck in hopes of catching a glimpse of the high vaulted ceilings in the living room, the wood beams, and light fixtures.

I rolled my eyes.

"Are you girls hungry?" My mother asked, removing the sorrels from her feet.

My mother wasn't your typical housewife. She slaved away in her youth, working shit jobs till she could afford to purchase the bar she now owned in town. It was her pride and joy, and she worked every day to ensure its success, but after my father's business took off, she was no longer required to work. She still did occasionally but left it to those she trusted to manage it. I'd worked alongside the town's locals when I turned nineteen, earning my own money while still living at home.

I glanced at my mother with admiration. She was youthful despite her age with a fire behind her brown eyes that I hoped to inherit one day.

She kept her bangs clipped, her long sleek black hair hanging like a curtain down the back of the leather coat she took off and hung on a wood-crafted coat hanger next to the door.

"I'm famished," Janelle answered and followed my mother to the kitchen.

I discarded my pack by the stairs and removed the boots from my feet before following the beckoning sounds of my brothers.

Our massive Christmas tree stood tall in the corner of the living room, next to the giant flat-screen both my older brother Nate and younger brother Johnny gamed out on. "Hadley?"

I beamed at the sight of Nate, his tawny hair a mess from the backward hats he preferred.

Johnny's neck snapped as Nate leapt over the back of the couch and plowed into me.

I nearly fell and might have had his arms not ensnared and scooped me in a tight embrace. "I missed you, baby sis!"

The smell of him washed away my worries: snow, exhaust, and long hours spent on the track.

He pulled, his hazel eyes dancing before he glanced toward the door, and when he didn't find the one I said I was bringing, Nate asked, "Where is he?"

He. I knew for a fact the boys knew Dallas's name and had likely torn his social media apart in hopes of finding something they could use against him just for being my boyfriend.

I might have gone on the defence had Dallas accompanied me, but I was still perturbed with him for bailing.

"He didn't come," my mother said from the kitchen, not bothering to hide the disappointment in her voice.

She likely stuck up for Dallas in my absence as my brother's ripped into her about him.

Confusion furrowed Nate's brows. "I thought he was coming?" His gaze sliding from my mother to me in question.

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Plans changed."

Nate didn't look too happy, neither was Johnny, who slid between us.

My smile brightened as I embraced him, his towering frame near crushing my spine. "When did you get so tall?" I asked, having no idea where my little brother had gone.

His smile was broad, his crinkling eyes the colour of brandy-like my mother's and I, but his hair was more suited to wheat, like our family on our father's side. "Must have sprouted over the summer."

"And his appetites increased with it," my mother joked from behind.

"You're training?" I asked Johnny.

"Just finished," he beamed, puffing his now broad chest with pride. "The sleds are in the garage. Dad's in town grabbing parts. And Baker's working on the bike."

My stomach coiled, and Nate's eyes grayed.

There was no point in inquiring about Baker's whereabouts. Not as my mother made her way toward the front and opened the door that led to the attached garage. "Luke! Baker!"

Amid my greetings and worries, I'd nearly forgotten about Janelle. Thankfully Nate took notice. "Is this the roommate?"

I turned to where he jabbed his chin, finding a smiling Janelle just behind. "I am," she answered, and I stepped aside, noting the hint of flirtation leaving those full lips.

Nate grinned an approving smile as he drank her in—from the top of her dark hair to her white socked feet and all the curves between while Johnny gapped.

Idiots. "Nate, Johnny, this is Janelle. Janelle, Nate and Johnny," I introduced with a ringed thumb and forefinger.

I might have reached over and lifted my sixteen-year-old brother's jaw off the floor had my mother not yelled for the boys again.

I flinched at the sound of her voice—dread coiling in my sternum.

A moment later, Luke appeared around the corner, and I couldn't help but laugh. "What happened?" I asked, spying the ugly gray boot on his foot.

He smiled—his grin nearly identical to Nate's, but anyone who knew them could tell them apart by the single dimple on Luke's right cheek. "Slipped," he said, embracing me gently.

If Nate was stone and rough edges, Luke was the water that glided along the cavern. A gentle soul with the kindest heart, but he could also be quite destructive when it came to those he loved, and it showed in his ominous tone. "Where is he?"

"Couldn't be bothered to show," Nate answered for me, and it wasn't kind.

I could have screamed. I was their little sister only by a year. They didn't have to be so threatening when it came to Dallas. Although, their animosity could have had something to do with Baker, and that thought might have bothered me more.

I made to snap back and might have had an all too familiar presence not appeared around the corner. "Hadley."

A/N: The time has come!