Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

“So you have a sister,” she inquired, continuing our
conversation.
“Yep. Not an only child,” I corrected her and her
assumption about my lack of manners in sharing.
“How old is she?”
“A year younger than me.”
The roll of tape screeched as I wrapped it around the bottle
and then set it down, grabbing another can and stick and
putting them in her hand to do the same thing.
“And how old are you?” she asked, playing for
information.
“Older than you.”
She laughed. “You’re not like sixty, are you?”
Sixty? Did I feel sixty when she touched me?
I stopped what I was doing and got down in her face. “Old
enough to vote, not old enough to buy liquor,” I told her. “But
I can still get liquor. If you want.”
She just grinned and let it go.
It was amazing she hadn’t figured it out yet, but I was
careful to take off the rosary when I met her, and I always
showered before I came. I thought it would be tough, not
smoking to give myself away, but when I was around her, I
just wanted to stay around her. My nic fit wasn’t worth leaving
her until I was damn good and ready.
I’d also never worn my mask, because then she would
know I was a horseman.
But if I told her I was nineteen, she’d figure out which
class I graduated, and with my lurking and scaring her just like
Damon did in the janitor’s closet and in the lunchroom, she’d
eventually have to face the reality of who I really was, and for
now… I liked that she liked me.
I wasn’t trying to get her into bed. I wasn’t trying to prove
how tough I was. I wasn’t angry or weighed down or tired of
my stupid, fucking life. I was the only place I wanted to be.