Chapter 3

Hannah

"Dig in, you guys," Culver says, after placing four steaming bowls on the dining table.

Like most eighteen-year-old boys, Chester doesn't need to be told twice, shoveling food into his mouth in his typical fashion.

I kick his shin under the table.

He finishes slurping up a long noodle, looks at me apologetically, then turns to Culver. "Thanks, man."

"You're welcome, buddy. Enjoy."

Chester's gaze returns to me. "Can I pig out n-now?"

"Yes. Now you can."

"This smells amazing," Katie says, picking up her fork and spoon.

Culver smiles. "Thanks. It would be even better if I'd had time to let the sauce simmer for a few more hours since that's what gives it that really rich, hearty flavor."

Chester lowers his fork, his forehead wrinkled. "Flavor? Wh-what's that?"

I laugh, Katie giggles, and Culver looks like a deer stuck in headlights. It's adorable how he always tries to defend my lack of culinary skills, when even I gave up on doing that years ago. I'm good at many things. Cooking isn't one of them, and I'm fine with that.

My eyes linger on Culver for a moment longer, studying his features. Flawless olive-toned complexion reflecting his Italian roots. Sparkling brown eyes. A mop of unruly dark curls. A strong, angular jawline that gives his face a distinctively masculine appearance.

But my favorite feature, after his eyes, would have to be his dimples, which, I'm happy to say, I get treated to quite often.

Speaking of getting treated…

"This is delicious," I say, around a mouthful of pasta. "Really delicious."

"For th-the m-m-most part, yes-s-s," Chester says, smirking. "A little garlickly, though, wouldn't y-y-ou say, Katie?"

Her eyes light up as she cottons on to what Chester's getting at. "I mean, it's fine for you and me. I won't see Dean until tomorrow, so I don't have to worry about my kiss-breath until then. Unlike…"

Both of their gazes swing to Culver and me.

"Here we go," he mutters before scooping up a big forkful, leaving me to deal with…this.

I put down my utensils and steeple my fingers. "You're both so observant. Culver and I will obviously need to brush our teeth thoroughly before we start making out as soon as you guys go to bed."

Chester's eyes bulge. "You will?"

"No," I cry out, exasperated. "Why can no one tell I'm being sarcastic?"

"You're too sweet to be sarcastic," Katie informs me then goes back to twirling pasta on her fork.

Culver finishes chewing and swoops in with a question about their summer plans.

Katie answers first since Chester has given up on teasing me to return to a much more important task—inhaling his food. She excitedly tells Culver about her plans to visit Yellowstone National Park, look for wildlife she's never seen before like bison and wolves, and meet all of Dean's extended family for the first time.

"His family is huge. He once showed me a photo of their Thanksgiving, and it looked like half of Comfort Bay was there."

Culver, being from a monstrously large Italian-American family himself, chuckles. "I know what that's like. And what about you, Chester?"

Chester slurps up the final bits of sauce from his bowl, then licks his lips. Unfortunately for him, that does nothing to address the red sauce on his chin. I lift a brow to subtly indicate to Katie and Culver not to say anything as Chester outlines his European itinerary, getting particularly excited when he speaks about some of the old castles they'll be checking out in Eastern Europe.

"They're almost as old as you g-g-guys."

I smile sweetly, playing along with his joke as I pick up my phone. "Aw. I'm going to miss you both so much. Especially your wonderful sense of humor, Chester. How about one last photo for me to treasure?"

"Sure." Katie beams and brings herself closer to Chester.

She smiles, he does a cheesy double thumbs up, and I finally have something to use as leverage over him…at least for the next twelve hours until they both leave in the morning.

I show them both the photo I took, and Chester groans, picking up his napkin and dabbing his chin. "Thanks a l-l-ot, you guys."

But he's smiling.

We all are.

I occupy an unusual place in Chester and Katie's lives, some type of new relationship status that's part big sister, part substitute Mom. I've had to come down on them whenever they've made typical teenager mistakes or poor judgments—okay, whenever Chester made mistakes since Katie is literally perfect—but I've also tried to have fun with them, too. Exchanging barbs and teasing is one of our love languages, but they both know they can tell me anything and count on me not judging them.

"What about you, Hannah?" Katie asks. "Apart from getting to enjoy all of Culver's yummy food, do you have any plans for the summer?"

"Actually, I do." I get up from the table and retrieve my laptop from where I left it to charge in the kitchen. "I'm going to have a hot girl summer," I announce sitting back down.

In the time it takes me to open the laptop and bring up the spreadsheet, no one has said a word.

"What's a hot girl summer?" Culver asks.

"It s-s-sounds dirty."

"It's not dirty. It's about me having some fun and doing things that I want to do." Then I quickly add, "As long as they're not too expensive and can be done outside of work hours."

"I can f-f-feel the spontaneity from here."

"I think it's well-established that I am neither a good chef nor a spontaneous person. However, this summer, I can try to address one of those two things."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Katie says as she leans across the table and slides the laptop away from me.

"What are you doing?" I ask, as she snaps the laptop closed.

"You can't coordinate spontaneity in a spreadsheet," she tells me.

I scoff. "You can if you color code it right."

"I d-d-don't say this often, but I agree w-with Katie."

"Oh, do you now?"

Chester gives a firm nod. "You've done s-s-so much for us. Do you. Whatever that m-m-means." He looks over at Culver. "As the man of the house, I'm p-putting you in charge of this."

"Man of the house. Yeah, right." Katie rolls her eyes, then reminds him. "You're the youngest."

"By less than two minutes. When will you s-s-stop using that against m-me?"

"Never," Katies replies with a self-satisfied smirk before leaving the room. When she returns, she distributes four pens and four pieces of paper around the table. "As a fellow list-maker and organizaholic, I understand the need to have all ideas captured in an accessible way. But how about we brainstorm first?"

I shrug. "Okay."

I mean, why not? At least this way, I may end up with something more exciting than trimming a few inches off my hair and socking it to Doyle by taking part in the Festival of Living Pictures—the two items listed on my spreadsheet so far.

"All right, so what are we all thinking?" she asks.

While everyone ponders, I say, "I want to take part in the Festival of Living Pictures."

Sure, it's not the wildest thing, but being able to rub my non-flinching face in Doyle's is the type of thrill I can get behind.

"Okay. Good," Katie says. "Write that down."

So I do.

"Y-y-you've always wanted to p-paint."

"That's right, I have." I feel a twinge of guilt—Chester even bought me a paint set for Christmas last year, which was a way more thoughtful gift than his usual generic bath sets or weird kitchen gadgets like plastic banana slicers or avocado pitters that seem useful but always end up unused in the back of a drawer. "Put that on your list."

He scribbles it down with a happy smile on his face.

"When's the last time you did karaoke?" Katie asks, eliciting a loud groan from Culver beside me.

"Way too long ago," I answer, then nudge Culver with my elbow. "And since you're staying with me, I'm going to have to insist you come along."

"That has to be a violation of some human right, surely?" he moans.

"And this time, you are going to sing."

Culver hates karaoke with a capital H. In the handful of times I've managed to drag him along, he hasn't sung. I couldn't even get so much as a hum or whistle out of him. His singing voice must be really bad, which is why I need to hear it.

He continues groaning as I tell Katie to add it to her list.

Unfortunately, after getting off to a decent start, the good suggestions flatline.

"What about Pilates?" Culver suggests.

I shake my head. "Too intense."

"Yoga?" Katie asks.

"Too much lycra."

"What about n-n-naked yoga?" We all snap our heads to Chester. "What? It's a thing."

"My issue with yoga won't be resolved by not wearing clothes." I twirl the pen between my fingers. I may not be a fan of group exercise, but there has been something I've wanted to do for a while. Even if I am petrified by the idea. "I'd like to swim in the ocean."

"But you hate the ocean," Culver says.

"I know. But I'm twenty-five. Maybe it's time to overcome my fear. If you'll come with me?"

He smiles brightly, his dimples making a welcome appearance. "Of course."

"Awesome." I smile, and my gaze shifts the outfit he's wearing. I noticed it the second he surprised me in the store, but I haven't had a proper chance to appreciate it until now.

Because, you see, Culver isn't just one of the best defensemen in the NHL, he's also a bit of a style icon. He's always dressed well, and in recent years, he hasn't been afraid to make bold fashion choices, whether it's a zebra-print coat, a colorful cardigan, or the monochromatic blue outfit he's wearing today, complete with blue Nike Air Jordans. They're his favorite shoe, and he has an entire collection of them in almost every color imaginable.

I glance across the table and can immediately guess what a grinning Katie and Chester are thinking about my invitation to Culver. "Because he's a strong swimmer," I tell them.

"Uh-huh."

"N-n-nothing to do with g-getting wet and almost naked."

Culver's brown eyes sparkle. "Do you know what I love even more than you two teasing me and Hannah with all your innuendo and not-at-all subtle remarks?"

They both shake their heads.

"It's knowing that no matter how much you may mock us, Hannah and I will always have the last laugh. Because no matter what you guys—or anyone in Comfort Bay—may think, we are and will always be the best of best friends."

A moment passes.

Then another one.

"Yeah. That's right." I back Culver up, even though my throat is dry, and I feel like I've been sucker punched.

Because there it is.

We are and will always be the best of best friends.

Culver's declaration of the full extent of our relationship.

Which is precisely why I can never ever tell him about my true feelings.

"Let's get back to the hot girl summer planning," Katie suggests.

"Good idea," I say.

I'm forced to veto a string of bad suggestions—skydiving, getting a tattoo, seeing how many Oreos I can stuff into my mouth—before we finally get on track again, courtesy of Culver's idea.

"You've always wanted to see the magic purple carpet."

The kids chortle. No guesses where their minds went with that one.

I ignore them and pat Culver's arm. "I love it. Write it down. That one's a definite."

"I realize you can't travel too far, but you've always said you'd like to go on a road trip, like…" Katie's head dips. "Like the ones we used to go on when Mom was alive." She looks back up and exhales, pushing past her sadness. "The drive out to Fresno is nice this time of year, with the crops in bloom."

"You c-c-could even stay at a r-r-roadside motel like we used to. Apparently. I don't remember since I'm the y-y-oungest."

I think about it. "Actually, yeah. That would be nice. Are you sure you guys don't want me to wait so we could do it together some time?"

"I am not sharing a bathroom with him."

"I have a f-f-feeling a summer of staying at h-h-hostels will turn me into a five star hotel man."

I smile. "Fair enough. Looks like it's you and me again, Culver."

More smiling. More dimples. "Sounds good to me."

The twins jot down their ideas, and I do the same as two wildly different things pop into my head at the same time.

Culver spots it. "What did you just write down?"

"Uh…" One idea is safe to share, the other, not so much. "I wrote down that I'd like to tag along with you on one of your hospital visits."

"Oh."

"If that's okay with you?"

"Yeah, it's fine. It's just…well, I spend time hanging out with sick kids. It's not really that exciting."

"I know, but it's something I've been wanting to do for a while. I'd like to get involved."

"Okay. Cool. I'll let you know when I'm going next." He puts down his fork and spoon. "What else did you write?"

"Nothing."

He tries to peek at my piece of paper, but I slide it away from him before he can see.

"Is it to declare your undying love for Culver?" Katie asks, grinning widely.

"We can leave the room to give you g-guys some space?"

"See what your lying is doing?" Culver joins in on the teasing. "It's giving them ammunition."

"Okay. Fine," I relent. "I wrote something down but I didn't want to share it because…"

It's irresponsible, and I don't want to set a bad example for the kids even though they're not kids anymore so I should probably stop calling them that, and what I want to do isn't even that bad, and everyone else has done it at least once in their lives so why can't I?

I huff out a breath. "I wrote down that I want to get drunk."

"You've never been drunk?" Katie asks, sounding surprised at the same time as an equally surprised-sounding Culver says, "But you're a total lightweight."

I am. One glass of…anything and I feel woozy and lightheaded immediately.

"I'm not the best drinker," I admit, and when Culver shoots me a look, I clarify, "Okay, so I'm possibly the biggest lightweight on the planet. And I already know it'll be horrible and messy and I'll regret it and will never want to repeat it ever again, but I want to know what it's like."

"That's fair," Culver says gently, then sharpens his tone as he says to Chester and Katie, "As long as you both realize that drinking excessively is terrible for your health and almost always leads to bad decisions. Sometimes ones with life-changing consequences."

"Uh, yeah, we know. Drinking is for old people."

"Yeah. Chill, b-b-boomer."

"Just make sure you're with her. Okay?" Katie says to Culver.

"Of course. What are best friends for if not for holding your hair back while you puke and making sure you don't choke while you sleep?"

"And there goes m-my appetite," Chester says, pushing his bowl away.

"Let's change the topic," I suggest. "This is a great start on my hot girl summer list. Thanks, you guys."

Chester asks Culver about his plans for the summer, and Culver tells them that after the season he had, he's looking forward to hanging out here with me and overseeing my compliance with the hot girl summer checklist, which draws a laugh out of everyone, me included. He also mentions spending time with his family as well as a few three-day training camps he and Fraser will have to drive back to LA for.

Once we're all done eating, Katie starts collecting the bowls. "That was a great meal. Thanks, Culver."

"Y-y-yeah. Thanks, man."

Katie wrangles Chester into helping her do the dishes so Culver and I head into the living room. Once they're finished in the kitchen, she scoops up the lists we made from the dining table and announces she's going to her room.

Chester hangs around, looking slightly awkward. "Hey, Culver. Can w-w-we talk?"

Culver looks up from his phone. "Sure, man. What's up?"

"Uh. P-p-privately?"

I glance between them. "I'll go check in on Katie. She's probably triple-checking that she's packed everything." I get up off the sofa, and as I pass Chester, I place my hand on his shoulder. "How is your packing going?"

"I'll s-s-start right after I talk to Culver."

I smile, shaking my head. "Boys are the worst," I say before leaving them to it.

The door to Katie's room is open, and yep, as suspected, she's meticulously cross-checking two open suitcases on the floor against a list she's holding. I lean against the doorframe and study her for a few moments. She's not a little girl anymore—she's on the verge of becoming a fully-fledged adult.

I tap on the door. "Can I come in?"

Katie looks up and smiles. "Of course. I'm going through my third round of final-final checking."

I come in and sit down on the edge of the bed. "Wouldn't that be final-final-final checking?"

She flops down next to me with a resigned smile. "I'm being too much. I mean, I'm not even leaving the country. If I forget anything, I'm sure either Dean or his family can help me out, or there'll be a Walmart or something nearby."

"I get it." I wrap my arm around her. "It's good to be prepared. Makes you feel in control. Safe."

"Yeah." She leans into my shoulder, and I smooth down her long brown hair. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Of course. I'll be fine. I love summer in Comfort Bay. The weather's great. There's a nice influx of tourists. I've got my hot girl summer list. I'll be fine."

"I'm going to miss you so much," she says, her voice sounding more like a little girl than the brilliant young woman she's become.

I hold her closer, enjoying these precious last few moments we have together. "I'll miss you, too."

After a moment, she straightens and turns to face me. Her light-blue eyes are a little glassy. "I just want to say that I can't find words to adequately express how grateful I am for what you've done for me and Chester. You put your life on hold to raise us. That means so, so, so much to me. To both of us. We'll never forget it."

I get teary. "It's what big sisters do."

"Well, in that case, you're the best big sister in the world."

We embrace, and I take a moment to let the beauty of her words sink in.

"You won't be too lonely without us?" she asks when we pull apart.

"The house will be a lot quieter," I say, falling back onto the bed. "Especially without Chester banging about all over the place."

Katie joins me, lying down. "I'm assuming that since he's older, Culver has graduated from man academy and learned basic domestic rules like keeping the toilet seat down and not leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor?"

I chuckle. "Yes. He has. I was at his graduation ceremony. A beautiful affair."

We turn to each other. Katie nibbles on her lower lip. "You know how you've always said we can tell you anything and you won't judge us?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, there's something I'm planning on doing this summer that I haven't told you about yet."

I sit up because it feels like this is going to be a serious conversation. "Go on."

Katie, following suit, sitting up, too. "Dean and I are going to have sex."

"Oh."

"We've talked about it a lot, and we feel that since we've been together for almost two years and we love each other, also a lot, we feel like we're both ready, and we want to do it. A lot."

"I see."

"Did I catch you off-guard?"

I smile. "A little, yeah. Give me a minute."

"Of course."

I think it through.

Katie and Dean are in love. They obviously have a level of emotional intelligence if they're discussing the topic, which is a prerequisite in my mind. And Dean's a good kid. I like him. I like his family. And most importantly of all, he's always treated Katie well.

"I'm happy for you," I finally say. "It sounds like a beautiful next step in your relationship."

She lets out a relieved breath. "Thanks for being cool with it." Then she pulls out her phone and opens a…spreadsheet.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Well, I've been doing some research online looking into…first times." Her cheeks flush slightly as she says the words. "And well, let's just say, horror stories abound. I need some big sisterly advice."

Uh-oh.

She and Chester know I haven't dated much since I've never brought anyone home, but I guess she's under the impression that I must have some experience.

But nope, I've got literally none.

Which is becoming an increasingly depressing thought.

"What sort of questions do you have?" I ask.

She lifts her phone and starts rattling them off. They're good questions.

Solid questions.

Insightful.

Well thought out.

Which means…I am completely ill-equipped to answer them.

"So, here's the thing, Katie…" I've always encouraged them to be honest with me. It's time I lead by example. "Those are all great questions, but I'm afraid I can't help you."

"Why not?"

"Well…" I take a breath. "Because I'm a virgin."

Her eyes widen for a moment, before she quickly schools her features. "I'm so sorry…I shouldn't have assumed anything."

"Don't be. It's fine. You didn't know."

"Can I ask why?" she asks, almost shyly.

"I guess there are a few reasons." I get up and walk over to the shelves lined with alphabetically sorted books. "It's never been a focus for me, and I haven't ever had the time needed for a boyfriend." I smile as I pick up a photo of her and Dean at prom. "And I guess I've never had what you guys have. I've never been in love."

She thinks about it for a minute. "Can I ask you something else?"

"Sure."

"And I'm being completely serious here. This isn't a joke. But…why has nothing ever happened with you and Culver? You guys are so great together. It's like you're soulmates or something."

I rejoin her on the bed and give her an answer that hopefully doesn't sound like something I've obsessed about a million times in my head. "Maybe we are. But Culver and I are friend soulmates." My shoulders have slumped, so I straighten them. She's looking at me intently, assessing whether to believe me, so I throw in, "Besides, boyfriends come and go, but best friends stay forever."

She nods a few times. "Okay."

Good. I think she believes me.

I pick up her phone and re-read the questions myself, then place the phone screen down on the bed. "The main thing I will say is this: communicate. That's key. Let Dean know what's going on for you and encourage him to do the same. Don't ever do anything that doesn't feel right. Know that you can stop at any time and for any reason. And relax and try to enjoy it. I hear it's meant to be fun."

It's definitely not the best advice in the world, but it's the best advice I'm able to give.

"Thanks, Hannah."

"Sorry I can't be more helpful."

"No. You have been. Really. Thank you."

I smile then cast my eyes over her luggage. "Do you need me to help with anything?"

"No. I'm good." She flicks her hair off her shoulders. "I'll do one final-final-final-final check, and then I'll call it a night."

I stand up. "What time is Dean picking you up in the morning?"

"Eight."

"Cool. I'll still be here."

As I begin to leave, she hands me a piece of paper. "Here. I created a master checklist for your hot girl summer. It includes everyone's ideas."

"Thanks." I take it from her then head for the door, turning around to take her in one last time.

My little baby sister in her room. My little baby sister who's about to leave for the summer. My little baby sister who's about to have sex with her boyfriend.

Before me.

I'm a twenty-five-year-old empty nester virgin who's never had a boyfriend. Now isn't that a depressing thought.

"'Night, Katie."

She waves her checklist at me and smiles. "Goodnight, Hannah."

I pass by Chester's room and peer in.

His arms are full, his torso and chest hidden by a massive pile of clothes all the way up to his chin. He carries them over to an open suitcase on the floor and drops them in without even bending down.

"So, packing's going well," I say, slipping into his room.

"It's s-s-so easy," he says with his usual naughty grin. "Don't know why Katie makes s-such a big deal about it." He kicks his suitcase closed then triumphantly sits down on it. "Done."

I shake my head. "How are you going to survive in the real world?"

He smiles up at me. "I'll be f-fine. If I forget something, I'm sure my f-f-friends can help m-me out, or there'll b-b-be the European equivalent of a Walmart around."

I smile back at him.

It's uncanny how he and Katie are so different in some ways, but then they say or do the exact same thing the way only twins can.

"Yeah. You'll be fine. You're a smart guy. Can I help with anything?"

"Nope. I don't want you m-m-messing with my s-s-system." And then, out of the blue, he comes over and gives me a big hug. "I love you so much, Hannah. Thank y-y-y-ou for everything y-you've done for us."

"I love you, too, Chester." Tears well in my eyes. "And don't mention it. I'd do it all again in a heartbeat if I could."

"I am p-p-retty awesome."

"Yeah. You are."

I wipe a tear away then leave him to it. When I reach the door, I spin around. "Oh. How did your man-chat with Culver go?"

His cheeks turn red. "Fine."

That tells me everything I need to know.

"Okay. Cool. Katie's leaving at eight," I remind him since he doesn't leave until midday to make his six p.m. flight from LAX. "Set your alarm."

"I already h-have." He tips his chin up, grinning from ear to ear. "For seven fifty-five."

"Sleep well," I say, shaking my head.

"I will. You, t-t-too."

Culver's parked himself in the living room, so that's where I head, dropping off the hot girl summer list in my bedroom on the way.

I place it on my nightstand when I get an impulse to add one more thing to it. I snag a pen from the top drawer and perch myself on the edge of my bed.

This summer is about me doing whatever I want to do, right? And part of that means I need to stop overthinking everything, stop being so rigid. So responsible. So planned down to the last detail.

This summer, if it feels good, I should do it.

I smile to myself.

Yeah, I like that.

I click the pen, and then I write down three little words I definitely won't be sharing with the kids.

Or Culver.

Maybe especially Culver.

Because this is something I want to do that's just for me and no one else.

Lose my virginity.