The late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting golden slats across Simon's bedroom floor. Outside, the city hummed with its usual rhythm—horns blaring, kids shouting, a distant dog barking somewhere on the next block. Summer was beginning to loosen its grip on New York City, but the heat still lingered in the air, clinging to the skin like sweat-soaked cotton.
Simon lay on his bed, one leg propped against the wall, the other dangling off the edge. His headphones were on, but no music played. The silence behind the padded cups gave him space to think. His gaze drifted toward the ceiling, his mind swirling with emotions he could neither name nor silence.
Down the hall, he could hear her laugh.
Elena.
His sister's voice was unmistakable—light, melodic, tinged with that effortless confidence she carried like perfume. She was in the living room with Eddie. Probably curled up on the couch, her legs draped across his lap, fingers entwined like they always were when no one else was watching. Except Simon was always watching. Always noticing.
It had started as curiosity. She was his sister—older, cooler, always one step ahead. When she got into high school, she transformed almost overnight. From a quiet girl who watched Saturday cartoons with him, to a woman who moved through the world like it owed her something. Her hips swayed differently. Her voice deepened when she spoke to guys. Her bedroom, once filled with posters of bands they both liked, had become a shrine of scented candles, makeup mirrors, and expensive lotions.
Then came Eddie.
Simon had hated him instantly. Not for anything Eddie had done—he was polite, athletic, good-looking in that All-American way. Captain of the lacrosse team, straight A student, and, to Simon's dismay, actually a decent guy. He brought flowers for their mom on her birthday. He helped their dad change the tire last winter. He even gave Simon a few pointers on stick handling when they passed each other in the hallway.
But Simon didn't want his help. He didn't want him anywhere near their family. Especially not near Elena.
It wasn't something he could say out loud. Hell, it wasn't something he could even say to himself without flinching. But the truth buzzed in his chest like a live wire—dangerous, unavoidable, wrong.
He was in love with her.
Not in the way you're supposed to love a sibling. Not in the way they teach you in health class or caution you against in church. This was different. Darker. It had taken root in him slowly, wrapping around his thoughts like ivy. It showed up in the way his breath caught when she walked into the room. In how his chest tightened when she called him "baby bro." In the way his eyes lingered when she stretched in her cheer uniform, the hem of her skirt riding up just a little too far.
God help him.
The door creaked open and he jolted upright, yanking off his headphones. Elena peeked her head in, grinning.
"There you are. We're ordering Thai. You want your usual?"
Simon nodded quickly, hoping the rush of blood to his cheeks wasn't as obvious as it felt. "Yeah. Thanks."
She stepped in fully, resting her shoulder against the doorframe. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she was wearing Eddie's oversized hoodie with the school logo half-faded on the front. Her legs were bare.
He tried not to look.
"You okay?" she asked, tilting her head. "You've been hiding out in here all day."
Simon shrugged. "Just tired."
"School stressing you out already? It's only the first week."
"I guess. Junior year sucks."
She smiled, and something flickered in her expression—warmth, concern, maybe something else. She crossed the room and plopped down on the edge of his bed, bouncing slightly on the mattress.
"Well, next year you'll be a senior like me and Eddie. Then you'll be the king of the school."
He smirked. "Yeah, right. You guys already have that throne locked down."
"Nah," she said, nudging him playfully. "I bet you'll kill it next year. Join the lacrosse team, get yourself a cute girlfriend... finally stop being such a hermit."
He looked at her then, really looked. Her eyes were the same shade as his—hazel, flecked with gold—but hers always seemed to catch the light better. Her lips were slightly chapped, bitten at the corners like she'd been nervous. She smelled faintly of coconut shampoo and Eddie's cologne.
"I don't think I want a girlfriend," he muttered.
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why not?"
"Just... not interested, I guess."
Elena gave him a mock gasp. "Don't tell me my little brother's turning into a monk."
Simon chuckled despite himself. "I'm serious."
Her gaze lingered on him for a second too long. He felt it like a weight pressing against his skin. And for a terrifying, electric moment, he thought maybe she knew. Maybe she saw it in his eyes. The way he looked at her. The way he dreamed of her. The way he wished—
"Alright, monk boy," she said, standing up and ruffling his hair. "Thai food coming up. Don't hide in here all night."
She turned and walked out, her bare legs disappearing down the hall.
Simon exhaled. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath.
He lay back on the bed, one hand over his eyes.
This was getting worse.