Chapter 1
My sister had stolen nine of my boyfriends.
Same old story every time—she played the sweet, helpless little sister, and poof, my boyfriend became hers.
My parents always said to me, "You're the older sister. You need to let her have her way."
This time, I wised up. I found myself a guy everyone in town thought was slow.
I figured, no way she'd go after him, right?
Turned out, three days into our "relationship," this "slow" guy cornered me.
His eyes were dangerous, his voice low. "Tired of pretending all these years?"
Right then, I knew I'd messed up. Big time.
*****
Michael Turner slid his coffee cup across the table toward me.
"Sarah, we're done," he said.
I looked at him.
Boyfriend number nine, right on schedule.
"Why?" I asked.
"I'm in love with Emily."
He said it so calmly, like Emily wasn't even my sister.
"She's so innocent. Like a blank page," he added.
His eyes got all soft and dreamy. "You're just too much, Sarah. I'm exhausted."
I grabbed my bag. "Fine."
No drama. I stood up.
Michael called after me. "What about the money I lent you?"
"You'll get it back next week."
I didn't even look back.
I walked out of the coffee shop.
The sun was way too bright.
I pulled out my phone and opened the family group chat.
There it was already—a selfie of Michael and Emily.
Emily's arm was draped over his shoulder. She was grinning, like she'd just won the lottery.
Caption read: [Thanks for letting him go, Sarah!]
My mom replied instantly.
A giant thumbs-up meme.
She wrote: [Emily found true love. Mom is so happy for you!]
My dad chimed in. [Michael's a good kid. You treat him right, you hear?]
Nobody asked me anything.
Like I was the one who didn't belong.
My phone buzzed again. Private messages from my mom.
Mom: [Sarah, what's going on with you and Michael?]
[Did you do something to mess it up again?]
[Your sister finally found someone good. You're the older one. You need to be generous.]
[Michael's a great guy. You were never good enough for him anyway.]
[Don't you dare come home and start a fight. Got it?]
Message after message.
Each one was like a little knife.
I switched off my phone and stuffed it back in my pocket.
The air felt thick. It was hard to breathe.
Number nine. Nine guys, total.
Ever since I turned eighteen, every single guy I ever liked ended up loving Emily instead.
I was just a rest stop. A try-before-you-buy for her.
I was tired.
I got home.
The door was unlocked.
Laughter came from the living room.
Emily was curled up next to my Mom on the couch.
"Mom, Michael's taking me to meet his parents tomorrow," Emily said.
"That's wonderful! We need to lock this down quick," Mom replied.
Mom was stroking her hair.
Dad was making tea nearby, beaming.
"Our little Emily, always so lucky," Dad said.
I walked in.
The laughter stopped.
Three pairs of eyes turned to me, like I was an intruder.
"What are you doing here?" Mom asked.
Her face went cold instantly. "I told you not to come home and make a scene."
"I'm not making a scene," I said quietly.
I walked toward my room. "Just wanted to see if my room's still available."
Emily got up from the couch.
She walked over to me, eyes welling up. "Sarah, please don't be like this.
"Michael and I really love each other.
"You can't help who you fall for."
She was back to her usual theatrics.
"I know you're hurt. If you're mad, hit me. I deserve it," she said, her voice trembling.
She reached for my hand, trying to make me slap her.
I pulled back.
"Drop the act, Emily," I said. "Aren't you tired of it?"
Emily froze.
Guess she didn't see that coming.
Mom rushed over, pushed Emily behind her like she was protecting a precious gem.
"Sarah, have you lost your mind?" Mom snapped.
"If you touch one hair on Emily's head, I'll break your legs!" she threatened.
I looked at my mom. "In your eyes, she can do no wrong, and I can do nothing right."
"That's right," Mom replied. "You're the older sister. It's your job to make way for her. You owe her that."
Same old line.
Ever since I could remember, those words were carved into my bones.
I laughed. "Fine. I'll make way. I'll make way so hard you won't even see me coming."
I looked straight at Emily. "Emily, I'm getting ready for boyfriend number ten. You ready?"
Emily's face went pale.
Mom's jaw dropped.
Dad's coffee cup wobbled in his hand.
I didn't look back.
I turned and headed to my room, closed the door, and leaned against it before I slid down to the floor.
No tears.
Just this deep, bone-level numbness.
I opened my laptop and started searching.
I needed a man Emily could never steal.
Someone she'd cross the street to avoid.
Someone... slow.
A local news headline popped up. [Good Samaritan Helps Homeless Man "Lucas Gordon" Found on Streets.]
The photo showed a guy in his early twenties, with empty eyes and drool at the corner of his mouth.
He was clutching a beat-up Rubik's Cube like it was his whole world.
The article said he had some kind of intellectual disability, and he hung around the scrapyard on the south side of town every day.
Perfect.
He was the one.
After I closed my laptop, a plan started forming in my head.