Cold Sister by Spector_Dugan

Everyone in this story is over the age of 18. I swear this was supposed to be a short one.

“I’m cold,” Betsy announced, as if this was a huge revelation.

My younger sister was always complaining about the temperature. I swear, she came out of the womb shivering. Despite the fact that we lived in Florida, where even the chilliest days were still hot, my sister was forever freezing.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon. I was sitting on the slate, sectional couch, watching the NBA Finals on the family’s immense flatscreen TV. My sister stood off to the side of the living room, her arms crossed around her chest, like trying to hug the heat into herself.

Betsy was bundled in a heavy, grey hoodie and dark sweatpants. I could barely make out her umber eyes under her hood. She’d gathered her long, light brown hair in a braid, and it ran down her chest like a dashing escapee.

“Can I sit with you, Bran?” Betsy asked. She lifted her feet one-by-one off the tile floor like it was far too icy for her bare toes.

“You’re into basketball now?” I asked.

“No, but this air conditioning is out of control,” Betsy said, “Dad already said I’m grounded for a month if I touch the thermostat again.”

I laughed, but I knew my sister wasn’t joking. Our father may have loved us both, but he adored air conditioning with an incongruently heated passion. Turning down the A/C was a betrayal far beyond what he would tolerate.

“Seriously, I just need to sit with you for a bit to warm up,” Betsy said.

I shrugged. Betsy may have been strange about temperature, but otherwise she was a pleasant girl to be around. We weren’t the kind of siblings to cuddle on the couch, usually, but I wasn’t going to freak out about it, either.

My half-hearted approval was apparently enough, and Betsy hopped next to me. There was plenty of room for both of us, but she scooched right next to me like we had to share a single cushion. Betsy snuggled into my chest, then grabbed a fleece blanket from behind the couch and put it over the both of us.

“Oooooo, you’re warm,” Betsy said, as if it was the best compliment she could give.

“Feel better?” I asked.

I felt my sister shudder against me. “Getting there,” she said.

Betsy was petite, about 5’2″ at most. She’d run cross country in high school, which had kept her trim. I had no true sense of her shape, though, because she was always too layered to tell. Even when we hung out at the pool in our backyard, she stayed well covered (the water, shocker, was too cold to swim in).

Betsy pushed her brown braid behind her ear and looked at the screen. “Who are you rooting for, the orange team?”

“Yes, the orange team,” I said, unable to hide my mocking tone. “I enjoy how their overwhelming orange-ness keeps the green team in check.”

“Jeez, I was just asking a question,” Betsy said. She pouted in a way that made her look prettier.

I suppose I would say that my eighteen-year-old sister was cute. Her face was attractive in that ‘girl-next-door’ kind of way. She had a button nose and thin pink lips that seemed to always be smiling. Several of my friends had asked about her, always with the same question. I wonder what she looks like under all those clothes? Obviously, I made it clear they weren’t allowed to find our for themselves.

I tried to keep my focus on the game as Betsy burrowed into me. Somehow, my sister was snuggling even closer into my chest. Unlike Betsy, I was tall and broad. She felt tiny as she squirmed into my side.

“Feeling comfortable yet?” I asked, impatiently.

“Trying to,” Betsy said, “Seriously, you’re super warm. How are you this warm?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “I just am.”

“Well, we need to do this way more often,” Betsy said, “It’s like cuddling up to an oven.”

“Your own personal heat rock,” I said.

“Are you suggesting I’m a lizard?” Betsy asked, pretending to be insulted.

“You are kind of iguana-esque,” I said.

“Then you must be a bear,” Betsy said, “A big, cozy grizzly.”

“I could live with that,” I said, “I wouldn’t mind eating salmon all day.”

“Maybe steal a few pic-a-nic baskets to change things up,” Betsy said.

“That would be nice,” I said, “You’d have to eat flies, in your new iguana life.”

“But I’d have crazy awesome eyesight,” Betsy said.

“And two penises.”

“Wait, really?” Betsy asked, turning my way. I nodded. “Ewwww, no thank you.”

“You might enjoy it,” I said, teasing.

“Please, I can’t even find one,” Betsy said. I gave her an odd look, but she ignored it.

My sister finally settled against me. She let her head loll on my chest. I looked at the TV and realized I’d totally lost track of the game. Without thinking about it, I absently stroked the back of Betsy’s hooded head. She let out a little coo.

This was nice in a way that I wished wasn’t brother-sister nice. It had been a while since my last girlfriend, and I missed the intimacy of it. Having this time with Betsy didn’t exactly scratch that itch (again, sister), but it reminded me that it was there.

Betsy groaned and slid her hand up my chest. She looked up at my face and we shared a strange, secret smile. She tilted her head upwards and for a moment it looked like…

“Brandon! Betsy! Come help with groceries!”

We startled as we heard Mom’s voice calling to us from the garage. Betsy and I both jumped up from the couch like we’d been doing something far more inappropriate than watching a basketball game.

*

That night, I took a long shower before going to bed. When I was done drying off, I changed into my usual sleep clothes — a pair of flannel pj pants with no shirt — and slipped under the covers.

I’d been at FAU for two years, commuting from home to save money. Now that I was about to be a junior, I was planning on finally moving out. But there was something comforting about staying in my childhood home. I knew most of my classmates couldn’t wait to be on their own, but I didn’t mind it.

I liked my family. We got on well. My mom was super supportive, and Dad was always helping me out with stuff. Plus Betsy. She wasn’t so bad. Being in an apartment by myself seemed like it would be super lonely.

I was about to switch off my bedroom light and pass out when I heard a soft knock on my door.

“Hey Bear,” Betsy said, stepping inside my room.

My cute, brunette sister was wearing all her layers, like before. I’ve been told I look like her — same brown hair and eyes, same lips and nose — but personally I didn’t see it. My sister was adorable. I was a big, awkward lug.

“Hey ‘Guana,” I said.

“That does not sound right,” Betsy said, “Too close to guano.”

“Fair enough,” I said, “What’s up, Bets?”

“I’m super cold and I’m having trouble falling asleep,” Betsy said. She gave a full shiver to punctuate her point. “You were so warm this afternoon and I can’t stop thinking about it. Can I come sit with you for a bit?”

I eyed my sister warily. It wasn’t the strangest request ever, but it felt awfully odd.

“I only have on bottoms,” I said.

“So?” Betsy asked, “You’re still my heat rock.”

I sighed and lifted up my comforter. Betsy clapped her hands, excitedly, then leapt next to me on the bed. Like I said, this was the room I grew up in, so I only had a double. But there was enough room for the both of us.

“Ohhh, that’s nice,” Betsy said, again snuggling into me. She rested her head on my bare chest, snaking her hand up to my pec. I wrapped my arm around her back. It was like she was a koala, and I was a eucalyptus tree.

My sister settled into me. Her breath tickled at my chest hair. My eyes lowered languid as reality began to drift.

“What do you want to do?” Betsy asked.

“I was about to fall asleep,” I said.

“No sleeping,” Betsy said, shifting into full brat mode. “Not until after I leave. We need to do something.”

“I could go get Parcheesi,” I said.

Betsy turned her head and glared at me.

“I guess we could talk?” I said.

“About what?” Betsy asked.

“I don’t know, life. Stuff like that. You still seeing that guy, David or whatever?”

“Ugh, no,” Betsy said, “What about you? What happened with that blonde chick you were telling me about?”

“Melissa? That went so bad, I can’t even tell you,” I said.

“What happened?” I could tell I’d piqued my sister’s interest.

“What happened with you and David?” I asked.

Betsy groaned and rolled her eyes. “He was a pig. All he ever wanted to do was fuck.”

I couldn’t keep the surprise off my face. I had trouble imagining my sister taking her clothes off, let alone that. Even her use of the curse word was surprising. My sweet sister wasn’t one for swearing, usually.

Betsy giggled. “We didn’t actually have sex,” she said, “That was the problem. Like, I’m fine with making out or whatever, but he was DTF after the first date and I wasn’t ready. I guess, after, a while, he lost patience with me. I caught him hooking up with some random girl at the grad party last month.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“I’m not,” Betsy said, “He was a jerk. What about you?”

“Oh, Mel and I had sex all the time,” I said.

Betsy’s eyes went wide, and she shoved me, hard. “Not that!” she cried out, “Why’d you two break up?”

“Oh,” I said, “Well, that was kind of the problem. Sex was all we ever did. After a while, I realized that we’d never had a real conversation. Like, I didn’t even know her middle name or if she had a big family. It was weird.”

“I’m sorry,” Betsy said, mirroring me from before.

“I’m not,” I said, “I want a real relationship. One where it’s not just physical. Where we can talk and have fun. And even when we do touch, it doesn’t have to be about sex. Like, lying around and cuddling is nice, too.”

“Yes,” Betsy said, her voice suddenly distant. “This is really nice.”

“Seems like you’re pretty warm under there,” I said, trying not to hint too hard.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Betsy said, “I’m not totally comfy, but I guess this will be good enough.”

My sister slid out from under the covers, then ambled out of my bedroom. When I rolled over to fall asleep though, I found the mattress felt strangely empty.

*

The next day was Monday, so I spent most of my time answering phones at work. Doing admin for a reinsurance company wasn’t the worst summer temp job I’d ever had, and it kept me busy. I didn’t put a lot of thought into the day before and what had happened. Mostly because, as far as I was concerned, nothing had. I mean, it was a little weird, what Betsy and I had done, but it wasn’t that unusual.