Gianna scoffs, “What do you mean? You’re my brother.”
“Should I have pictures of you around my house?”
“The Hawthorne House? No, thanks, big bro. Keep me out of those shenanigans.”
I look back at that photo. “How long has this been here?”
“Since forever.”
“So, years.”
She nods. “Yep.”
I turn. Lucy is at the kitchen counter holding a glass of water. This girl has been looking at this photo of me, happy as can be, for years. I’m not going to lie, the discomfort in my chest makes the air feel sparse. Is this why she panicked when she saw my name? She’s had my face in hers every time she opens her damn fridge? I take the picture off the fridge and lean over the counter, looking at it.
“This was a good day,” I say to no one in particular, but I know Lucy’s listening. “I had just made the winning score. It was the night I knew I could do this for real.”
“Whatever,” Gianna laughs. “You were always going to make it, Benson. You’re relentless when you have your mind set on something.”
Lucy and I lock eyes for a moment. She takes a sip of water, and I turn to put the photograph back on the fridge.
“So, Mom and Dad are driving up for the opener. October ninth, which is a Friday. Dad booked the hotel a while ago.”
“He always books too early.”
I agree. “He always does.”
“Are they doing the whole weekend?”
“Driving up Friday afternoon. Leaving Sunday morning. Mom wants brunch Saturday before they go. I told them we’d do dinner Friday after the game. Either the place by the rink or the Italian place Mom liked last year — she keeps bringing it up.”
Gianna folds the towel into thirds and sets it on the oven handle. “I’ll make the reservation at the Italian place. She’d kill me if we did anywhere else.”
“Thanks.”
She looks across the kitchen at Lucy. “Lucy, you should come.”
Lucy looks up from her glass. “What?”
“To dinner with my parents after the opener. October ninth. It’s a Friday.”
Lucy doesn’t move. “Oh. I — Gianna, that’s okay. That’s—”
Gianna smiles. “It’s not a thing. My parents are great. Mom will love you. Dad will ask you a hundred questions about math, and he’ll be obsessed when he finds out you’re a math wizard.” She shrugs. “You should come to the opener too.”
The air tightens, and it’s because Lucy freezes. She doesn’t know what to say.
Gianna rolls her eyes. “You never come.”
Lucy gulps. “I thought we had a pact in place.”
Gianna looks at me. “Tutoring broke that, didn’t it? And Benson isn’t going to steal you from me.” She turns her head, staring right at me. “Are you, Benson?”
I shake my head but keep my eyes on Lucy. I don’t know where her confidence went, but it makes me feel uneasy seeing her like this.
“See,” Gianna smiles at Lucy.
Lucy looks at me with pink cheeks.
