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The way he says it, he doesn’t quite sound like himself. It’s Silas, obviously, but it sounds… rehearsed.

My heart plummets.

“You don’t even have to tell me about it. I can help you find the right person, if you want, or I can just listen if that’s what you need. Therapy is amazing. Just let me know. You’re not alone, June,” he says.

I feel like dirt.

I feel like lying, sneaking, best-friend-screwing dirt as I finish pouring the water into the coffee maker, then hit the button.

You should be pissed, I think. If you knew the truth, you’d be so pissed at me and oh, God, I’m the world’s worst sister.

“Thanks,” I manage to say as I turn around, rubbing my palms against my shorts. “I’m okay. Really. But thank you.”

He sighs, then in two steps he’s across the kitchen and he wraps me in his arms, practically lifting me off the ground.

“I’m here if you need me, Bug,” he says, and I squeeze him back. “Whatever it is, okay?”

Tell him.

Just tell him, and get it over with, and let him be angry instead of sweet and caring because that would be so much easier to take.

It’s on the tip of my tongue, I had sex with Levi and I’m gonna do it again, but I bite it back because I’m not the one who’ll really have to reckon with Silas.

It’s not me he’ll be pissed at. I mean, he’ll do some hollering for sure, but I have a zero percent chance of being punched in the face.

But I want to tell him. I do. I want him to stop worrying about me and be happy, because right now I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time and I can’t tell him.

“I know,” I finally say into his shoulder. “But I’m fine. Really.”

Finally, he steps back, ruffles my hair — which I hate and have always hated and he knows it — and looks at me.

“What are you up to today, Bug?” he asks, head cocked to one side.

“That depends on how many more times you call me Bug,” I tell him, and that finally gets a smile. “I have an article I should write, and a couple of other job leads —”

I’m going to Levi’s tonight…

“It’s Saturday,” he objects. “Forget work. Want to get lunch and a movie? My treat.”

Guilt. Guilt.

“All I had to do to get you to buy me lunch was take a walk early in the morning?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light.

“I’d probably have offered if you’d gotten a sudden, drastic haircut or something,” he teases.

“Would you notice a sudden, drastic haircut?” I tease back.

Silas hangs the dishtowel on the stove and grins at me.

“Don’t stereotype,” he says. “I’m very perceptive. Go shower, I’m not taking you out if you smell bad.”

“You’re one to talk!” I shout over my shoulder as I head upstairs.We get barbecue at a hole in the wall joint the next town over, and then Silas makes me see a romantic comedy about a woman who runs a pet wedding business and, by the end of the movie, finds love of her own.

I wanted to see the gritty World War II epic that’s out right now, but Silas absolutely refused, and since he was paying for it, I saw the dog wedding movie.

It wasn’t my thing, but it was fine.

And moreover, it works. I don’t know if the movie worked — luckily the theater was nearly empty, because we whispered throughout most of it — but it’s a really, really fun day. Silas is right that I didn’t like Sprucevale at all when I left it over ten years ago for college, and he’s also right that I’m not crazy about the place now.

But spending a day with my big brother helps remind me what I do like about it. He’s here. My parents are here. On the street, I run into at least five different people I know, and they all seem happy to see me.

Finally, he drops me back off at my parents’ house and makes me take all the leftovers, then leaves again with one last, big hug.

“I had fun, Bug,” he says.

I sigh dramatically at the nickname.

“Thanks,” I say. “Me too. Even if I can’t believe you made me watch that movie.”

“Arf arf means I love you,” he says, and I snort.

Silas leaves. I put the leftovers in the fridge, wave to my parents, check the time.

I make myself wait, just a little while. I work on Twelve Owl Reaction GIFs That Will Make You Say HOO BOY. I watch the clock, and wonder how soon is too soon, or if there’s such a thing as too soon. I don’t want to be too eager, or too gung-ho, and scare him off. Guys don’t like that, right?

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