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I ignore him.
“Fine. Do what you want.”
“I want to lie here and wallow, and you should let me be the disaster we all know I am. I’m tired of trying to prove to all of you that I’m capable when clearly you were right all along.”
I hear a long, frustrated exhale, but I don’t bother looking at Archer. He can be as frustrated as he wants with me, but he’s the one who chose to come into my house today.
“PJ…” Archer slumps against the back of the sofa as though I’ve slugged him. “I’m an asshole.”
“Well, at least we’re in agreement about that. Maybe you could lighten up on me for once in your life. Cut me some slack. You have to know my intentions are good here. I’m not trying to screw everything up for you. Or your best friend.”
He shakes his head. “No, that’s not it.”
I wait for him to explain because, as usual, he’s an enigma. A grumpy enigma. Now it’s my turn to slump in my chair because I’m all out of fight. If he wants to tell me once and for all that I’m the family screwup and read me his long list of evidence, I’m not sure I have the wherewithal to defend myself.
I’m not sure I care what he thinks.
In fact…for the first time in my life…I do not care.
It feels like a breakthrough. Because it is. It’s the first time I’ve ever come to terms with the concept, and in an instant, it makes me feel lighter. I could just…not care.
It would take some doing and a lot of practice. I’m sure I’ll backslide and have some knee-jerk reactions to things he says, but…I could push through and remind myself not to care.
And the idea of it feels pretty fucking good.
Trying it on for size, I level my brother with a stare. “I don’t care what you think.”
He blinks a couple times. I see a muscle tick in his jaw. He swallows and his Adam’s apple works in his throat.
He doesn’t look happy about my obstinance, but I don’t care. There it is again, the idea that I can cast off my brother’s opinions and be okay with it.
I lean my cheek on my fist, waiting for him to figure out that I’m over him and leave me alone. “Good.”
“What?”
“You shouldn’t. You should be your own person, Peej. She’s awesome.”
“I don’t understand those words.”
Finally, he shakes his head. “Let’s start over. I didn’t come to rake you over the coals about anything. I came here to see if you’re okay.”
“What?”
He nods and leans forward, elbows on his knees. Looking up at me from under his baseball cap, I have a fleeting recollection of Colin wearing a hat like this one on our hike. I banish it from my mind and focus on what my brother is saying.
“I saw Colin last night.”
Just hearing his name forms a pit in my stomach. But I can’t stop the exhilarated rush of endorphins it brings at the same time.
“Why?”
“He called me. And then I went over there.”
“Why?”
Archer’s eyes soften, and he gives me a closed-mouth smile. Sympathetic. Concerned. “He’s a fucking mess, Peej.”
Of all the ways I could imagine Colin Hathaway being described, this is not on the list. He’s an astrophysics genius who has the universe, quite literally, in his hands. “Stuff with the Mars mission?” It has to be that. If something went south, he’d be upset, of course. I just can’t understand why Archer is coming to me with this information. What does he expect me to do about it?
