Tabitha stood in the driveway with a cardboard box in her arms, the bottom slightly caving from the weight of her pets things. She got told to leave the pet at her mom’s house for now and bring over at another time. When Rebecca, the new step sister, was ready. Her fingers tapped against the taped seam, the rhythm fast, sharp, impatient.
The sun was already too hot for this early in the morning, baking the blacktop and making everything feel sticky. Her shirt clung to the small of her back, and the box was leaving a faint sweat ring against her chest, but she wasn’t going inside yet. Not yet.
The house was too new. Too beige. Big enough to be impressive, small enough to feel like they’d all be bumping into each other no matter where they went. It had crown molding and a double vanity and one of those kitchen islands people on HGTV got excited about. Her dad kept saying how lucky they were to find it, how “this is a fresh start, Tabs.” As if he knew anything about fresh starts.
He barely knew this woman.
They’d met at some neighborhood clean up thing last summer, bonded over coffee and the fact they had both attended the same college, and now here they were. A house. A family. Just like that.
She hadn’t even told her mom. Not really. Not about this. Her mom wasn’t in a place to hear it, still untangling herself from the fallout of the last episode, still trying to string together more than a week of stability. And if Tabitha dropped this into her lap? That her dad had traded in their old life for a new wife and a Pinterest kitchen? It’d crush her. So, she didn’t.
Now she had siblings. Not real ones. Just… extras. Add-ons. Rebecca and her brother, Devin. They weren’t her brother and sister. They weren’t anything. But they moved like a team, some inside joke always between them, giving her sideways looks when she didn’t laugh at their constant back and forth. It grated. Devin especially, with his too cool indifference and lopsided smile like he knew more than you wanted him to. Rebecca smiling like the cheerleader she is. Too happy, too peepy, too much for Tabs.
She already hated the way her laugh echoed in the kitchen to everyone of her dads jokes like she belonged there. Like she’d always belonged there.
This wasn’t a family. This was a science experiment. Toss all the broken pieces into a mixing bowl and hope it didn’t explode.
She shifted the box in her arms and stepped toward the house, her jaw set. She already knew which room she wanted the one with the big window facing the backyard and the biggest closet. She’d seen it at the walk through and claimed it silently in her mind. If anyone tried to argue, they’d lose. That was her room. She needed a door she could close. A space that felt like hers.
She passed Beck on the front porch. She was sitting on the step, looking through what looked like a make up pouch of only lip smackers.
“You planning to sit there all day?” She asked, squinting down at her.
She rolled her eyes and stepped past her into the house. The AC hit her skin like a slap, but she didn’t stop moving. If she paused, she might scream.
No one had explained how to blend two lives into one hallway. No one had asked her if she wanted to.
Game nights? Family dinners? Matching Christmas pajamas?
Hell. No.
She just wanted her room, her snake, and a door that locked.
That was all she needed.
Tabitha felt the tension coil the second Rebecca pointed up the house and said something about that room to Devin, the one at the end of the hall with the big window and the walk in closet. The one Tabitha had picked out weeks ago in her head. It was hers. She hadn’t said it out loud. She didn’t think she’d need to. But now?
Now Rebecca was eyeing it like she had a claim.
Tabitha shot a look at her dad. He stood there in the driveway with his hands on his hips like he was admiring the siding, pretending not to notice the fuse about to blow.
“Seriously?” she asked him, brows raised. “You’re just gonna—”
He didn’t even flinch. Just gave her a tight little nod, one that said figure it out, like this was some team building activity and not her actual life being bargained over.
Her soon to be step mother was inside somewhere, unpacking pots and pans like they were actually staying. Like this wasn’t temporary. Like this was home.
Fine. If no one was going to fight for her, she’d fight for herself.
She bolted. No warning, no words, just took off, her sneakers slapping against the hardwood as she charged through the front door and down the hallway, a blur of stubborn teenage adrenaline. The box she’d been holding slammed against her hip as she ran, the corners jabbing into her ribs, but she didn’t stop. Her room. Her choice. Her claim.
She skidded to the doorway, already reaching for the light switch with her elbow when, bam.
She didn’t even see Rebecca, but suddenly they were shoulder to shoulder in the narrow frame, wedged awkwardly, neither willing to give an inch. Rebecca must’ve sprinted after her, silent and determined, like it was a race and she’d trained for it.
Tabitha’s breath caught, fury surging before she could stop it. Of course this was happening. Of course this girl thought she could just slip in and split the difference.
But Tabitha wasn’t raised to share scraps. Not space. Not comfort. Not peace.
She pressed her body forward an inch more, stubborn and sharp, her jaw clenched so tight it ached. She wasn’t moving. Not for anything.
This wasn’t just about square footage. It was about everything else she’d been asked to give up. And she wasn’t giving up this too.
Not without a fight.