Four Of A Kind

I woke up with sun slicing across my face. Checked my phone: 7:04 AM. Saturday.

My neck cracked as I sat up. The couch had destroyed my spine again. Maybe I’d splurge on a better one when I hit thirty and my back permanently gave out.

Diana had texted three times.

Diana: I’m at the hotel.

Diana: I’d like to come back around 10 if that’s okay

Diana: I want to talk to Iris. Please.

I dropped my phone on the coffee table and shuffled to the bathroom. My reflection looked exactly how I felt: like shit. Dark circles, hair standing up, and a hickey on my neck courtesy of a vampire maid costume.

Last night still felt like a fever dream. Four identical girls with purple eyes had confessed to me in a parked car.

And I’d said no.

Because I was an idiot.

Because I was terrified.

Because their mother could destroy my life with one phone call.

After brushing my teeth and splashing cold water on my face, I walked to Iris’s door. Knocked gently.

“Iri? You up?”

Silence.

“I made coffee. And we have those chocolate chip muffins from that bakery you like.”

More silence.

I sighed. “We need to talk about Mom.”

The door opened a crack. Iris peered out with sleep-tousled hair and suspicious eyes.

“Why are you being nice? What did you do?”

“Nothing.” I held up my hands. “Can’t a guy just want to talk to his little sister?”

“We share DNA and an apartment, not feelings.”

Jesus, she was more like me than I wanted to admit.

“Diana texted. She wants to come over at ten.”

Iris opened the door wider. She wore an oversized shirt with some anime character I didn’t recognize and shorts.

“What did you tell her?”

“Nothing yet. Wanted to check with you first.”

She crossed her arms. “Since when do you care what I think about Mom?”

That stung. “I always care what you think.”

“You made it pretty clear last night that you don’t want her around. At all.”

“And you made it pretty clear you agree with me.”

Iris glanced away. “I was angry.”

“You were right.”

“Maybe.” She leaned against the doorframe. “But she’s still our mom.”

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to flatten it. “So you want to see her?”

Iris shrugged. “She’s trying. That counts for something.”

“Trying now doesn’t erase leaving before.”

“I know that. But… what if she means it this time?”

There it was. The hope I’d been protecting her from. The belief that people change. That mothers don’t just abandon their kids permanently.

I knew better, but Iris didn’t. She was fourteen—still young enough to believe in second chances and happy endings. I wasn’t going to take that from her.

“I’ll tell her she can come at ten.” I moved toward the kitchen. “Come eat something.”

Iris followed me to the small kitchen. Our apartment wasn’t much—basic two-bedroom in Kensington with thin walls and unreliable heat—but the kitchen had decent counter space and a window that caught morning light.

I poured coffee and heated the muffins. Iris hopped onto a stool at the counter.

“So,” she said with forced casualness. “Are we gonna talk about the four identical girls who showed up last night?”

I almost dropped the muffin plate. “What about them?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that one of them gave you a hickey? Or that they all seem completely in love with you? Or that they’re freaking Valentine quadruplets?”

“They’re not in love with me.”

Iris raised an eyebrow. “Then what would you call it?”

“Temporary insanity.”

“Uh huh.” She bit into her muffin. “And the hickey?”

“Costume research.”

“That’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

I slid a coffee mug toward her. “It’s complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Let me guess. You like them. All of them. They like you. But their mom is a psycho billionaire who’ll destroy your future and possibly murder you if you date any of them.”

I stared at her. “How do you—”

“Harlow talks. A lot.” She sipped her coffee. “And the walls at their place are super thin.”

Great. My fourteen-year-old sister knew my entire disaster of a love life.

“So what are you going to do about it?” she asked.

“Nothing. I’m going to keep my job, keep you fed, and keep the Valentine sisters at a professional distance.”

Iris rolled her eyes. “That’s working out great so far.”

“What would you have me do? Date four girls simultaneously?”

“Why not? They seem okay with it.”

I choked on my coffee. “You’re fourteen. You don’t get an opinion on my dating life.”

“I’m fourteen, not stupid.” She pointed her fork at me. “Those girls make you happy. I haven’t seen you smile in months, but you smiled last night when they texted you.”

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t risk it.”

“You mean you can’t risk me.”

I met her eyes. “Yes.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not your responsibility, Isaiah. I’m your sister.”

“And I’m your guardian.”

“That doesn’t mean you sacrifice everything.” Iris’s eyes flashed with anger. “Mom sacrificed nothing for us. And now you’re sacrificing everything. There’s gotta be a middle ground.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that.

“When’s the last time you did something you wanted?” she continued. “Just because it made you happy?”

“Last night. Arcade.”

“That doesn’t count. The sisters dragged you there.”

I couldn’t remember.

Iris’s expression softened. “I’m gonna be okay, Zay. Whether you date no girls or four girls or fifty girls. Whether we move to California or stay here. I’ll be okay because you taught me how to be okay.”

When had my little sister gotten so wise?

“Now text Diana back and tell her she can visit,” Iris said. “I’m going to shower.”

She disappeared into the bathroom, leaving me with my coffee and thoughts.

I texted Diana.

Me: 10am is fine. Iris wants to see you.

Her response came immediately.

Diana: Thank you