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We're in a narrow alley. It's quiet. It's particularly clean.
I guess Beverly Hills even has classy alleys.
My brother looks taller and broader than normal.
He'd beat Kit in a fight, hands down. Not that Kit would punch back.
My heart is thudding against my chest. Another deep breath does nothing to calm me.
Mal's shoulders stiffen. His entire body locks up. He stands as straight as an arrow.
His eyes bore into me.
I brace for the I know about you and Kit and he's already out of the band.
Instead, Mal's voice drops. His eyes go to the street. "That was Mom."
What? I study my brother's expression. There's no menace in it. His knuckles aren't bloody or bruised. His voice is even.
"We haven't talked about Mom in forever."
"They're happy for you. About school." He smiles, but he isn't selling it. "They're going to be home next week."
"That's nice." I should be relieved that Mal doesn't know about me and Kit—not that there's anything to know—but I'm not. Already, I taste acid in my throat.
"They're winning a science award."
I stare back at Mal.
"They
want us to go to the ceremony."
"Good for them."
"I'm going. Ethan's going—"
"Bullshit."
Mal pulls out his phone and shows off the evidence— a one word text from Ethan.
Ethan: Fine.
I fold my arms and hold my brother's gaze. "He seems enthusiastic."
Mal stares back at me.
"They couldn't interrupt their last research trip to make it to my high school graduation. I'm not going."
I should be jumping for joy that Mal only wants to talk about our parents. That I haven't fucked up shit for the people that matter the most to me.
But I still feel sick.
"It will be three hours. Go." Mal's expression gets hard.
"No."
"Piper."
