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Call Me By My Own Name Novel Cover

Call Me By My Own Name

After seven years of online devotion, Rita Hughes arrives at the airport to finally meet Wesley Vance. But her sister Audrey steals the designated red dress, claiming Wesley's embrace as her own. Forced by their mother to stay silent, Rita must watch Audrey usurp her identity, her seven years of letters, and her nickname, "Nightide." As Wesley embraces the lie and defends Audrey, Rita is sidelined in her own love story. Now, Audrey even demands Rita ghostwrite her answers to Wesley's intimate questions.
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Chapter 1

The day Wesley Vance came to the airport to meet me, after seven years of loving each other online, my sister ran out ahead of me in the red dress we'd agreed I would wear.

He froze for two seconds, then pulled her into his arms, his eyes going red.

"Nightide. I'm finally seeing you."

I started forward, and my mother clamped down on my hand.

"Audrey Hughes just had the birthmark on her face fixed. She only wants to know what it feels like to be the one somebody chooses without hesitation."

"Lend her half an hour. Don't be so selfish."

But half an hour passed, and my sister said nothing.

In the car home, she leaned against Wesley's shoulder, using the nickname, telling the stories, that came from letters I'd spent seven years writing.

Wesley noticed me watching them and frowned.

"Rita Hughes, your sister says you always loved taking her things, even as a kid."

"This is the first time we're meeting. Could you not spoil it?"

My mother jumped in at once.

"Rita, move over a little more. Don't crowd the two of them."

That night, my sister pushed her phone into my hands.

"He asked me why I fell for him seven years ago."

She smiled, shy.

"Sis, this one—can you answer it for me?"

1

I didn't take the phone she held out.

Audrey's hand stiffened in midair, and the smile faded a little.

"Sis, are you angry?"

"Wasn't it supposed to be just half an hour?"

I looked at her. "It's already been ten."

The living room went quiet for a beat.

My mother rose from the couch and pressed the phone into my palm.

"You wrote for her seven years. What's one more line?"

I froze.

"What do you mean, wrote for her?"

"Didn't all of you say it today—that I'm the one who—"

"Rita." My father's face darkened. "Do you really have to make a scene when Audrey's this happy?"

Audrey's eyes went red on the spot.

"Never mind. I'll answer it myself."

She reached for the phone but didn't actually take it.

On the screen, another message from Wesley came in.

【Nightide, why aren't you saying anything?】

【You used to say there always has to be a reason for loving someone. My reasons ran seven pages. What about yours?】

I'd read that line more times than I could count.

Seven years ago, my parents fought for the first time over the birthmark on Audrey's face.

My mother blamed my father's bad genes. My father blamed my mother for taking the wrong medicine while she was pregnant.

They smashed the bowls and forgot I was standing right there.

I hid out on the balcony and wrote to "Everdawn."

I asked him why everyone needed me to be mature, to be strong, to look after my sister.

Only he wrote back:

【Rita, it's okay not to be strong. Tonight I'll stay up with you until morning.】

I closed my eyes, then opened the message box anyway.

【Because that year everyone told me to be strong, and only you said it was okay not to be.】

【You stayed up with me until morning.】

The message had barely gone through before Wesley replied, almost instantly.

【So you do remember.】

【Ever since I saw you today, I've kept feeling like you'd changed.】

【But when you write, you're still my Nightide.】

Audrey stared at those lines, her expression blank for a moment.

She didn't know what had happened that year.

She didn't know what Wesley had written, letter after letter, while he stayed up with me until dawn.

But the next second she was clinging to my mother's arm, wheedling softly.

"Mom, Wesley says I'm still his Nightide."

My mother laughed at once.

"See, I told you. In real life, it's you he likes."

"Your sister's just a bit better with words. Feelings aren't something you judge by writing alone."

I asked quietly, "Then what were my feelings?"

My father looked at me, impatient.

"You talked through a screen for seven years and never even saw his face. How deep could it be?"

"Audrey and Wesley have already met, and they like each other. You're the older sister. Do you really want to be the other woman?"

The other woman.

So from the very first day Wesley held the wrong person, I'd become the other woman.

The phone buzzed again.

A message from Wesley, just to me.

【Your sister kept staring at me all day.】

【Nightide, does she have feelings for me?】

I looked at those words and suddenly had no strength left to explain.

Audrey nudged me gently.

"Sis, hurry up and reply."

"Just say I always loved taking things from her when we were little."

I pushed the phone back into her hands.

"That line you can say yourself."

That night, for the first time, I didn't answer Wesley's goodnight.

But through the wall, I heard Audrey ask my mother, excited:

"So what do we do later, when he asks about the past?"

My mother didn't hesitate.

"Ask your sister."

"She'll answer."

"She's always been the easiest to coax. And the most sensible one."

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