Cold Sister

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.

Except, when I got home, I found myself looking forward to something and I couldn't figure out what it was. Then, finally, it dawned on me. Some part of me, an inexplicable aspect for sure, was anticipating Betsy joining me in bed again. Which was silly for a whole host of reasons. Most importantly was that it wasn't going to happen again. I'd lived with my sister for almost two decades and we weren't going to change habits so easily.

I had dinner with my parents and Betsy. I watched Netflix on the couch. Finally, around 10pm, I took my evening shower and crawled into bed. The house was quiet. Whatever little hope I had was finally shot down. My sister was clearly not coming.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Hey Bran?" Betsy called through the door.

I told my sister she could come in. She was in a similar outfit as the day before, another hoodie (this one yellow) with dark sweats. She had on thick, wool socks, as well. Seriously, we were in Florida in mid-June. Most people compared the weather here to living on the sun. How was she ever comfortable like that?

"You don't have to knock," I told her.

"I don't want to catch you indecent," Betsy said.

"I'm always indecent," I said.

My sister frowned at me. "Anyway, I was hoping I could get a little warmed up again, like last night."

"I make you hot, don't I," I said.

"You make me lukewarm," Betsy said, "At best. But it's better than icy freezing which is what I feel right now."

"Well let's see what big brother can do for you," I said, and patted the bed.

"You're in an odd mood today," Betsy said, but she crawled under the covers and koala-ed up to me once again.

"Sorry," I said, "I guess I was trying to be funny, or something."

"You are funny," Betsy said, "When you're not trying so hard. Is something wrong?"

I thought about it for a moment. I didn't think anything was up with me until Betsy came in the room and I got all flustered. I don't know how to describe it. I was being creepy, awkward, visual novel flirty, and I couldn't figure out why.

"I don't think something's wrong," I said, "I guess I found myself kind of looking forward to you coming in here again. And I know it's odd to be looking forward to cuddling with my sister."

"It's not strange, it's sweet," Betsy said, "I liked spending time with you, too. It's nice to be close with someone."

"Even if it's your big, dumb brother?"

"You're not big," Betsy said, "Not in a bad way. I like your size, it's good for snuggling. And you're definitely not dumb."

"Thanks," I said. I felt the need to say something back. "You're super cute. All my friends say so. And, um, you're fun to talk to, too."

Betsy responded by burying her head into my bare chest. She pulled her hood back, revealing her cute, elfin face. Her cheeks were a little pink and she had her brown hair back in another long, trailing braid. She rested her hand on my chest and began absently tracing her fingers through my hair.

"You have a nice body," she said, continuing our compliment exchange. "Broad, but not fat. Not too muscle-y either. You're a good hugger."

"You're easy to hug," I said.

"Yeah." Betsy yawned.

*

I blinked awake. My room was pitch dark. I felt something wrapped around me and looked down.

Betsy! Oh shit!

It was one thing to snuggle. Weird, maybe, but not out of the realm. Falling asleep in the same bed, however, was a really bad idea. We would have a tough time explaining that to Mom and Dad in any way that wouldn't come off as wrong.

I shook my little sister awake.

"Feel warm," she mumbled.

I shoved her again. Betsy's eye slowly opened, then popped wide.

"You fell asleep," I told her.

"Oh crap!" Betsy said, "Bran, I'm so sorry."

"I don't care, but Mom and Dad will," I said.

Betsy gathered herself together and got out of the bed. "It was nice and warm with you. I guess a little too warm. I'll slip out quietly."

I watched as my sister tried to ninja out of the room, but it was more like traipsing. Finally, after tripping twice and almost walking into a wall, Betsy managed to make her way to the hall.

I sighed and leaned back into my pillow. That was a close one. While I didn't think there was anything specifically wrong with what we were doing, something about it, I knew, would look plenty inappropriate to our parents. We needed to be more careful.

I closed my eyes but couldn't fall back asleep. I ended up staring at my phone till 4am, frustratingly awake.

*

The next day was back to work, but the whole time I found myself thinking about what might happen that night. Again, it wasn't something I could rationally explain. Who spent this much time looking forward to being with their baby sister? But that didn't stop me from doing it.

I practically raced through my evening routine. As soon as I climbed into bed, Betsy knocked on my door. This time, she didn't wait for me to respond, she just opened it and stepped inside. Again, she was in her standard uniform, but she had her hair in cute pigtails instead of the usual braid.

"I was feeling something different," she said, when I asked about it.

Betsy climbed into bed next to me. There was no more asking if it was OK -- this was now the routine. I can't explain why that made me so happy.

"Listen, we can keep doing this, but we need to be more careful," I said, as Betsy lay next to me. "Falling asleep like that? Mom and Dad would be pissed."

"I can't cuddle with my big brother?" Betsy asked.

"You're in bed with me, at night," I said, "It doesn't matter what it is, if that's how it looks."

"We can explain it," Betsy said, "Mom and Dad know I'm cold all the time."

"You know it's not OK," I said.

"Fine," Betsy said. She rolled her eyes at me, but she scooched in closer. "But I can stay for a bit, right? Till I get a warmer?"

"Of course," I said.

Again, Betsy put her head on my chest. Let her fingers play on my bare flank. I found myself slowly stroking her hoodie-covered back. I could barely feel the girl under all those clothes.

"You always sleep without a shirt," Betsy said, "Aren't you cold?"

"Obviously not," I said, "Does it make you uncomfortable? Do you want me to put something on?"

"No, I like it," Betsy said, "Like I said, you have a nice chest."

For a moment, I wondered if I should say the same thing back to her. But, for one thing, I didn't have any idea what my sister's chest was like because she always had it covered. And for another, she was my sister. Flirting that way was not OK.

We lay there in silence for a bit, lightly stroking each other. I listened to my sister's soft breath. The little sounds she made as she got comfortable. She had this way of flicking her eyes around -- at my body, my face, my room -- like she was trying to memorize every detail. There was something very adorable about it.

"I like this," Betsy said, "Warming up with you."

"I like it, too."

"It means a lot to me, that you let me do this," Betsy said, "I guess it's something I could only have with a sibling. Another boy would have expectations, you know? Hugging can't just be hugging -- it has to be the prelude to, well, things I'm not ready to do. And most brothers would be all awkward about it. I guess I'm saying that there's only one person in the whole world who I could do this with and it's you."

"I'm just keeping you warm," I said.

"I know," Betsy said, "But I want you to know it makes me feel special. Lucky, even."

Betsy tilted her head up and kissed me on the cheek. Her thin lips left a little wet mark. I turned, feeling like I should reciprocate, and went to do the same. But, somehow, I missed. Or Betsy turned her head. Of something. Because suddenly my lips were on hers.

I went from surprised to straight up shocked. Instead of pulling away, jumping back, or anything I expected Betsy to do, my little sister kissed me back.

Objectively, it shouldn't have made a difference whether I was kissing Betsy's cheek or her mouth. Skin was skin, after all. My sister's lips shouldn't have meant anything more, but they did. I could feel the difference. The electric sparks of touching a sensitive spot with one of my own.

Finally, we broke apart. Our eyes, however, stayed connected. I stared into my sister's deep brown orbs. Searched through the little whorls of color. There were flecks of gold in there. Like her eyes were laden with secret treasure. My sister searched me, similarly.

"I should go," Betsy said.

She got out of bed. Before I could say anything, she closed the door behind her. I stared up at the ceiling. My heart raced. From fear, from anticipation, from... From a lot of things I couldn't admit.

Once again, I found myself wide awake for most of the night.

*

I tried to catch up to Betsy that morning, but she'd already left for her own job as a counselor at a summer camp a few towns over. I spent the whole day at work completely distracted. I left early, claiming I was feeling sick, and waited for my sister to get back in the afternoon.

But when Betsy finally did come home, she went straight to her room. She blew past me so fast, I didn't even have a chance to say hello. I thought about going upstairs and talking to her, but something about her shut door shut me down. I'd never known a wooden board could be so imposing.