Page 40 of All Our Nevers

“Even though… that’s why I missed your graduation. It happened right before and I was still recovering from the blood loss. I wasn’t supposed to travel.”

And that is surprising. A ripple of shock passes over the group—tense with subsonic vibration, the string of the brothers’ relationship pulled too tight.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” Andy asks.

“You said it yourself. Mom would’ve lost it. And it would’ve made that whole day about me.”

Sophie moves to Andy’s side, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Andy’s posture is tense, a swallow moving thickly down his throat. “It would kill mom if something worse had happened to you. It would literally kill her.”

“What would you have me do? Stand back and watch this guy harass a girl right in front of me?”

And that’s as much as I can take. I’m rolling my eyes as I say, “Christ, what a savior complex.”

Nolan shoves me. “That was your takeaway from that story, Lia?”

Owen scoffs a dry laugh. “Believe me, I’ve never been good at the savior thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Andy asks.

Owen doesn’t answer.

Eyes dart around our circle, landing nowhere. It’s fucking awkward.

Eventually, Owen tries to change course. “Anyway—Nolan, you said you’re cold? Want to head in?”

“Yeah, dude. My nuts are like all the way recessed into my body.”

I scream “Ew!” and Sophie screams “Nolan!” and then we’re heading for shore, clambering away from that conversational riptide.

10

Lia

The sun sets in pinks and reds over Cape Cod. Our shoulders are bronzed, stomachs full of oysters, skin salty with sweat and seawater as we make our way back to the house. I did pitch going out to bars, but it was quickly shot down, joyful exhaustion thick in everyone’s bones.

“I’m ready for dessert,” Sophie says as she unlocks the Airbnb door.

“How is that possible?” Nolan asks. “You were keeling over holding your stomach twenty minutes ago.”

She shrugs. “I guess I digest fast. Lia, did you say you got s’mores stuff?”

“I sure did,” I say. “I’ll grab it for us. I assume we’re gonna sit in the back by the firepit?”

“Sounds good,” Andy says, walking into the kitchen and placing the bag of everyone’s leftovers in the fridge.

The backyard isn’t anything special. A patch of grass with a wooden fence, two long benches by a metal firepit, a large tree in one corner. But when I plug in the string lights under the purpling sky, it suddenly feels just right.

My brother was an Eagle Scout as a kid, and is all too excited to light the fire for us. Owen offers to look for skewers in the kitchen, but Sophie is adamant that we should do it the “old fashioned way,” shoving the marshmallows onto the ends of twigs. Andy—who is the last person I would ever expect to put a stick from the ground into his mouth—agrees to do whatever Sophie wants.

“So,” I say, reaching with both hands into the rose pink duffle bag at my feet, “to celebrate my two favorite people in the world who aren’t related to me, I’ve got… games!”

I pop up holding oversized pictures of Sophie’s and Andy’s faces glued to popsicle sticks. Everyone laughs loudly at this, except Andy who groans and hides his face in his hands, just as I hoped he would.

“Oh come on,” Nolan says, tossing a marshmallow that hits Andy on the side of the head. “It’ll be fun.”

I count seven more marshmallows squished onto the stick in Nolan’s left hand.