Page 25 of I Choose You

Dad wanted me and Kody to start working at his company right after graduation. I welcomed the challenge. Without Mom around, it was better to stay busy, not idle—less time to dwell and think. Still, I hoped he’d let us have this siesta hour.

“The weirdo?” I asked. When was I stuck with a weirdo? “Oh, in chemistry?”

“Yeah. Brooke.” He snorted and twirled the keys around on his index finger. “Such a weirdo.”

Knowing Kody, that was a tame insult. Still, it was just who he was. One day, I was sure he’d meet someone who’d be a bigger jerk than him and teach him to think twice about his behavior. I loved him, but even I got annoyed with the way he treated others.

“She’s not weird.”

“What’s with those stupid sayings and shit they write on each other’s hand?” He reached the driver’s door and opened it while I went to the passenger door. “It’s dumb.”

“Maybe it’s some kind of code or inside jokes. Making acronyms and stuff.” I shrugged and got in.

“Code?” He slid in and started the engine. “Like, what? They’re kids and need a secret language?”

“I don’t know.” I didn’t care, and I hadn’t thought about it much. To each their own, right? But now that he’d reminded me about those marks of pen ink, I remembered the swirls of the design on her finger. Artsy. It was cool.

“She’s weird,” Kody concluded.

You think everyone is weird.

“And what was that Breanna chick doing? She was red as a beet.”

“Deanna,” I corrected.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Her. What was that about?”

I shook my head. I wasn’t going to tell him that another girl was talking about him. He already had too big of an ego. “I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I heard she gives good head.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes. I reached for the radio and turned it on to drown him out.

“Hey, not that again,” he complained. “I’m sick of that song.”

I changed the station, but it took three more arguments to settle on one.

“I can’t wait until we don’t have to share this truck,” he complained.

“I know.” I crossed my arms and yawned as he drove us home.

“One day, we won’t have to.” He nodded, but I couldn’t tell if it was in agreement with me or if he was bobbing his head to the music. “We’ll have our own rides. Anything we want.”

Big head and a big attitude to go with it. “That’ll be nice.”

“I worried about Dad for a while, you know?” He shrugged.

“Yeah.” I told him about that night I found him crying.

“I heard him too. Made me realize how much of a jerk I was being.”

A jerk you were being? I held back a scoff.

“At least we can count on you to round us out. Dad was a workaholic.”

Still is.

“I was a jerk.”