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“I mean it. It’s not going to be like an edited book.There’ll be typos. A lot of them. Probably tense issues. And?—”
“And,” Cassie cuts in, “I’ll ignore them. Now give it to me. It sounds amazing.”
I laugh. “I should hire you to do my marketing. Every time I talk about it, I start sweating a little. Even my brother doesn’t know yet.”
“Why the secrecy?”
Ah. Sebastian’s new favorite question.
A few tables away, a toddler is happily coloring. So carefree. All the possibilities in the world in front of them.
When I was a kid, Aiden was a stranger. My cool older brother who had his own friends, his own interests. The only time we really interacted was when he had to babysit me. It wasn’t until I was a lot older that we discovered what we had in common besides our genealogy.
Funnily enough, it was researching our family tree that brought us together. After he signed up for an online service that promised to trace our history back ten generations, he raced over to share the results, and we ended up staying up past midnight making up stories about our ancestors. At some point, in a fit of sleeplessness, I joked that every single person would have had a favorite song, and we spent the next hour down a rabbit hole, trying to work out what each was, which led us to a never-ending “Oh, have you heard this one?”
And honestly? Even though Aiden and I could not agree on what constituted good music (he could keep his headbangers, thank you very much), the simple act of being able to relate to him, to joke with him, as his sister,his equal, his friend… well. I’d endure a hundred sleepless nights to keep that.
And now that our parents have moved east, I need him more than ever.
“I’m worried he’ll think it’s ridiculous.”
“I’m sure he won’t.”
“You don’t know my brother. He graduated with honors from the school of babying me.”
“Ouch.”
At my elbow, my phone lights up with two messages. One from Morgan that I’ve been meaning to respond to, and now one from Aiden.
“That him?”
I nod.
“My dad always said that there’s a lot of love buried in worry, but sometimes it’s so deep down the person we’re concerned about can’t feel it.”
Wow. “Maybe the wrong one of us is a writer.”
She leans back, hands up in surrender. “Oh hell no, that’s all Dad. He was a born storyteller. Could make a trip to the dentist sound interesting.”
It’s enough to convince me to unlock my phone and open the meme Aiden sent me. It’s as ridiculous as he is, but also adorable in all the ways I love about him.
I hate fucking lying to him.
Next, I go back to Morgan’s text. There’s a free concert in the park tomorrow night, and I’m already wondering how I can get some of this tea to take with me. Meanwhile, Morgan’s asking what flavor mixer I want to go with the gin she’s bringing.
When I’ve stared at her message for five minuteswithout responding, Cassie nudges me with her elbow. From where she’s sitting, she’s able to read it clearly, and I find I’m okay with that. Until now, I haven’t brought it up with Sebastian. He’s already taken on so much of me. Adding more to the pyre, especially this? At some point, the balance will tip, and his good view of me will go with it. But I’ll hold it off as long as possible.
In the meantime, he’s cracked open my vault, and words I’ve had no issue holding back before are piling up in my throat, threatening to choke me. If I don’t talk about this, I might burst.
“Do you think socializing after a certain age becomes impossible without booze?”
The wounded sound Cassie makes worries me, as does the intense grimace that goes along with it.
“My god yes,” she says, so passionately at least three heads turn in our direction. “Don’t get me wrong; if there’s an open bar, you better believe I’ll mow someone down for a glass of bubbly, but I’m a lightweight. Two glasses and I’m anybody’s.”
“Same.” But the lie sours on my tongue.Use your words.“Actually,” I blurt out before I can second guess it, “I really don’t like drinking. I almost always end up feeling a bit depressed afterward.”
Such a small confession, innocuous in the scheme of things, and yet my heart is racing.
