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Because I’ve been pining for her since I was sixteen, asshole. Killing time with poison like Sarah when everyone knew she was trouble the moment she came into my life. Instead, I said, “I never would’ve entered if I knew she was vying for it. She’d wipe the floor with anybody else on the lineup. Frankly, it feels like I’m the only other contender. At least according to Johanna King.”
“Johanna who?”
“Never mind. Not important. I just…wish I’d known, you know?”
“I guess. Look, man, I love my sister. But if I can tell you anything, it’s once she decides to do something she’ll make it happen. I know you. Which means you’re digging yourself into a hole over there, overthinking the morality of winning when she wants it. And that’s bullshit. If El loses, she’ll find her money some other way. Just…”
“Just what?” I bit out when his words drifted off into the air.
He released a low, prolonged sigh. “You deserve this, man. Don’t wig yourself out before tomorrow.”
“If you were a half-decent brother, you’d tell me to bow out.”
“If I were a half-decent brother, I’d tell you to swing harder because it will push her to win,” he challenged. “As it is, I’m betting on El crossing the finish line with or without this one endorsement.”
Something like pride battled the anxiety in my chest a beat before irritation swallowed them both. “That a backhanded compliment, Cap?”
“Nothing backhanded about it.”
“Are you saying she’ll find a way, but I won’t?”
“I’m saying…El has made it her business to do whatever it takes to make her dreams a reality. It’s like…a game for her. And I’m just…proud of you, I guess, for taking a chance, getting off island. Don’t wig yourself out worrying over her. She’ll figure it out. She always does.”
I sat for a moment, studying the warm glass in my hand before catching the bartender’s eye and holding it up. Talking to him about the genuine source of anxiety would be the adult thing to do. Just. Broach the subject. Be honest with him. That’s what a proper friend would do, right? According to Brex, the guys probably didn’t even remember that old pact, and would want me to be happy.
But right as I opened my mouth to ask if we could talk about something, he muttered, “Damn.”
“What?” I asked softly, nodding as the bartender set down a fresh glass and swiped my old one. I ran a thumb over the rapidly gathering condensation on the chilled edges.
“Skittles just served dinner.” His nickname for Noel had originated from her explosion of color in a climate made entirely of shades of gray. But there was an underlying insinuation in his tone that made me shake my head.
“Why does that sound like a euphemism?” I sighed.
“Didn’t say what she was wearing.”
“TMI, man. That woman is like a sister to me.”
“Good, cause that means I don’t have to kill you.”
I laughed, glancing up to the television as the bartender flicked between channels, landing on recaps of the games this weekend, and predictions for the following. Hoping a change in subject could absolve the guilt unsettling my dinner, I said, “Looks like Pax is favored by two touchdowns on Sunday.”
“Can’t underestimate the underdog.”
“Good point. He won’t.”
“Never does.”
“Alright, I’ll let you go. Say hi to Noel for me.”
“Will do. And Broderick?”
“Yeah?”
“I mean it, man. Don’t hold back. You finally found what lights your soul on fire. You told me only idiots don’t chase that.” Of course, logically, I knew he loved my enthusiasm for the youth center, but all I could picture was Elora’s face, arms painfully aware of the memory of her frame against mine. I’d told him that when he wasn’t letting himself pursue Noel for his own concocted excuses for hesitating, and couldn’t help but shift in my seat as the irony set in. “Set your sights and no matter what happens, don’t let go.”
Like a coward, I just said, “Thanks, buddy. Talk soon.”
“Call me after the awards tomorrow.”
