A soft knock traveled throughout the old white wood that held Poire’s door together. “Poire? Are you asleep?” Annabelle asked. “I’d… I’d like to talk to you about something.”

Poire nuzzled her nose into the pillow she had been using to muffle her cries. “What do you want?” she groaned in hopes that Annabelle would leave her be.

“It’s about your friend,” she said. “Can I come in?”

To these words, Poire jumped out of bed, and immediately tugged her door open. “Do what you must,” she muttered as she came face to face with her sister.

Her face was red, and her eyes swollen, and as Annabelle stepped into her world, she asked Poire, “Have you been crying?”

Poire looked away. “Who cares about that…” she said. “Just…say what you wanted to, please.”

A car drove by and cast shadows across Annabelle’s face. “Poire…” She sighed. “It’s difficult for me to—”

“Just tell me, Annabelle!” Poire cried. “You know how much I hate not knowing things. And besides…” She crossed her arms, sat herself back down onto her bed, and pouted. “I think I kind of know already what it is you are about to say.”

Annabelle’s head hung low. She sighed again. “Fine,” she said as she joined Poire, “have it your way…” The mattress shifted beneath her weight. “I don’t think he has your best intentions in mind,” she said. “In fact… I’m not quite sure what he had in mind overall by coming here today.”

Poire shook her head, just like she had earlier against her pillow, a few minutes ago. “I wish I could disagree,” she told her sister, “but nothing made sense in what he did. I thought about it for a long time, I really did, and my only conclusion was…” she bit her lip. The words she wanted to say were painful, yet she knew they were necessary to say. “That he likes you better than me,” she said.

Annabelle cringed and shook Poire’s thought away. “Geez,” she said in apparent disgust, “I’m old enough to be his babysitter, Poire. You must be mistaken. Even if I do agree, that he is pretty strange, I don’t think you can just go out and say something like that without knowing more.”

“More?” Poire tilted her head. “You mean I should ask him?”

“No!” Annabelle cried. “Of course not!” She stuck her nose between her palms and groaned. “Just…don’t get too close to him, okay?” she said before rising once more and giving Poire a pat on the shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

But I’m already hurt, Poire thought, as the noises of waves and animals unbeknownst to her slid in and out of her brain. “Okay,” she nodded, “I won’t.”

Annabelle smiled. “I’m glad,” she said. “Now get to bed, you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”

“I will. Good night.”

“Good night, Poire.”