"Nomes," I felt a hand land on the small of my back, and all at once I held my breath trying not to cringe or wince at the comfort of their touch. "Nomes, it's me, Ellie. I got your text. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," I interrupted the voice of my sister, trying my best to swallow the lump in my throat, "Ellie, I'm okay."

Ellie didn't even have to ask as she dragged me up and took me in her arms. I was still curled into my knees, but her arms made me loosen. One gasp of air, and before I could say another 'I'm okay' a squeak escaped me, then sobs, then gasping, and more sobbing.

I'm not sure how long it took me to calm down. It must've been the whole night since when I regained just enough of my sanity, the sky was already a lighter shade of indigo. The silhouettes of the trees were now darker, and Ellie had fallen asleep on my shoulder.

The moment Ellie felt my movements her eyes fluttered open, squinting at me, "Let's go home. Mom and dad will worry if they don't find us making Saturday pancakes. I already texted Owen. He's on his way to pick us up."

Silence returned between my sister and I. Still feeling the bile sit at the bottom of my stomach, I couldn't say anything but nod and nod. Things weren't sinking in yet, and Ellie knew that. Ellie always knew more, understood more, and cared more. She was just like that.

"Owen's going to hate me for this you know. You already know how hung up he is over his sleep. It's 4 am and I'm asking him to pick up my broken-hearted sister." Ellie teased as she stared at me, trying to brighten the mood. The most I could do was smile because it didn't really matter what Owen would think after tonight. Owen was Ellie's longtime best friend. Roy was mine. Ellie and Owen always made up, no matter what the occasion was. What were best friends for?

But for Roy and I, I was unsure. Would we still be able to make up after tonight? Would we be able to keep the many years of our friendship?

"Geez, Nomes. Your eyes are so swollen. I never thought you could cry this much." Ellie handed me her handkerchief. I complied and blew my nose.

Ellie was right.

I've never cried this much in my life. Even when our pet dog died I never shed a single tear.

I was never vulnerable, at least not in front of my little sister, but now I'm finding myself cry on her shoulder because of a boy.

Because of Roy.

It's so funny how quickly that could change.

I just hoped to God she wouldn't pick on me for it later.

**********

Roy was always there. Since we moved to New Jersey. He somehow always was there. His parents and mine were long-time friends, so we often saw each other. It didn't help that my parents loved him since he was responsible.

Being the oldest of three, he had to learn all the things all older siblings did. For no good reason, I was always compared to him, because I had to be the perfect older sibling too.

Being the oldest of two, with only a two-year difference, there wasn't much responsibility needed between Ellie and I. We were both accountable for our own things, but my parents never saw that.

Regardless of all the pointless comparing, Roy and I naturally grew close. Him being demure, me being straightforward. You know what they say. Opposites attract.

Through my drive home I was in a complete state of denial.

Ellie and Owen even got into a whole argument about how stupid Roy was, as Owen argued, but Ellie defended that I was sort of stupid too. It was a verbal war that was supposed to be between Ellie and I, but I didn't feel the need to fight back like the usual because both of them were speaking the truth. Mostly Ellie and that's what hurt the most.

Maybe it was because I cried it all out, or maybe because it was because I've grown numb. For a second I felt proud at the thought, but when I got home with the sun was spilling into my bedroom blinds, the strange squeezing of my heart returned, A panic attack, sporadic and painful.

Ellie only checked on me once. She found me frozen, head buried in my palms. Just for that one moment, I held my breath, before Ellie disappeared offering to take our Saturday job of making breakfast with one condition: I had to tell her everything. There was no way of avoiding it.

My cries died down eventually, as the smell of pancakes filled the house, and together I heard my parents scuffle their way out of their bed, with one kiss and one 'Good Morning'.

Before I could bury my head back into my blankets, Ellie peeped her head through my door, knocking weakly. "Mom and Dad are awake. Go wash up. They'll be suspicious if you don't."

Without my usual banter, I conceded. This time Ellie was right. I've always been a morning person, always the first one to fill our house with the music of my chatter. Never have I missed a Saturday Pancake morning, so to carry on our little show I had to make that extra effort.

After washing up I felt better enough that when I got to the kitchen it wasn't too hard to wear a smile and greet my family like the usual. We talked about useless topics about school, laughed and smiled just at the right times. It was a perfectly choreographed charade.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for my parents to finish eating and head off to the nursing home for their volunteer work. The moment the door closed Ellie set me down on the couch, gave me a tub of ice cream, and wrapped me in my bedroom blankets.

"Now," her voice was firm and solid, "tell me everything."