Title: My Sister's Keeper

Author: Jez

Email: bluefragment@hotmail.com

Disclaimers: Lost and Delirious, its characters, its plot, and its wonderful angst are not mine. Also, this contains off-screen Mollercest, which rocks my socks but might not do much for yours.


Out of bed you lazy slut...

She knows what she's talking about. Ever since Tori came to Perkins, at least one person has always been able to lay claim to her. When she's in transition, maybe two or three, but Ally doesn't know for sure. She just knows.

It's not fair.

There was a boy the first year, one Mummy approved of until his family lost their names in corrupt companies and bad stock. Tori had used him and three (five?) others until they were no good, then moved on to greener, lusher pastures on her home grounds of Perkins.

...her best friend, to be exact. Best friend at the time, at least. Cordelia: so politically correct about everything except sex. So cynical and matter of fact, even under the bridge between classes --which they missed anyhow, getting caught up on a more carnal study instead.

Ally thinks Tori must have some kind of, like, rule or something against sleeping with teachers (or getting fucked senseless on their desks, or on the floors of their offices) but the library aide didn't count when she began her falling out with Cordelia. Maybe there was a gardener, too, unless Cordelia and Tori were still having nature escapades. Tori would come in dirty and sore, and Paulie would smirk and say something under her breath about how it just figured, beds were made soft for a reason.

So when Paulie was the rebound, Tori became a little more refined and studious, keeping their activities in the bedroom or on the roof of the school. Paulie minded less when it was raining and they could run inside afterwards to traumatize the maids.

When the new girl, Mary Bradford, came, Ally was jealously afraid that Tori was going to have her, too. Obviously she was done with Paulie; she was back to the trees and bruises and torn and ruined skirts. Mouse would have been perfect for Tori, what with her passion for dirt and seeds, with her fingers that were almost as long, but could never compare to the older Moller sister's.

Ally knew, though, that Mouse's hands were almost like Tori's. They had to be-- closer, anyhow, than Ally's friends', which were clumsy and shorter, smoother and finer, with nails that were never quite the right length.


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