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“I’m going to ground you. I don’t care how old you are,” she said, but there wasn’t much heat to it this time.
“He started it,” he said, nodding his head toward me. “Let’s talk about Melissa some more.”
I lifted my palms in the air in defeat. “I’m sorry. Truce?”
Jack and I both calmed down, much to our grandparents’ relief, and the rest of the meal was eaten in peace. Afterward, we forced them both to retire to their chairs in the living room while we cleaned up.
We stood at the sink, Jack washing while I dried. I hated drying. Washing was easier, but I knew better than to start a fight I wouldn’t win. The younger sibling never won arguments like that.
“I told Melissa that I was thinking about asking this other girl out,” I said, glancing at him while I dried the plate in my hand.
Jack smiled. “What did she say? What’d she do? If I was a betting man, and I am, I’d bet that Funsize didn’t like that too much.”
“I don’t think she did, but she told me to ask her out. She told me I could do whatever I wanted.” When I shook my head in frustration, Jack burst out into laughter.
“Of course she did. Would you expect her to say anything else?”
I stopped drying and leaned against the counter. “Yeah. I expect her to tell me not to do it.?
??
His brow furrowed. “Not gonna happen, little brother. She’d never tell you to not date someone because then she’d have to own up to feeling something for you. And for whatever reason, she refuses to do that.”
“Why? Why won’t she just admit it?”
“I honestly have no fucking idea.”
That was helpful. Not.
• • •
Jack being home was awesome, except for the fact that I still had school and had to work at the agency almost every day. We got the news that Chrystle refused to sign the paperwork, and while I wasn’t surprised, Jack was flipping out.
In the meantime, I’d kept pushing him to talk to Cassie, to fill her in on what he was trying to do. Every time I brought it up, he flat-out refused and threatened my life if I gave her a heads-up in any way.
Jack was always putting me in these shitty positions when it came to her, and I was growing tired of it, tired of hurting Cassie when I knew it served no purpose. Jack never specifically said that I couldn’t tell Melissa, though, and so this time I partially filled her in on what was going on, but made her promise to keep it to herself. She was a bit of a hard sell as she huffed and puffed, but eventually agreed that she would stay quiet . . . for now.
When an entire month had gone by and Chrystle still refused to sign the papers, I thought Jack might have a nervous breakdown or spontaneously combust. We talked constantly about how out of control he felt, and how by sitting in California doing nothing, he felt like he wasn’t moving his life forward in any way. He compared it to being on pause, where nothing happened; you just lived in this stagnant existence, not moving in any direction.
So I shouldn’t have been surprised when he brought this topic up during dinner one night.
“Hey, Dean. Question—how long is your winter break?” he asked, knowing that it was coming up soon.
I gave him an odd look. “We go back at the end of January, why? What’s up?”
“You wanna fly out to Alabama and help me move my stuff back here?”
“Of course I’ll go,” I said without hesitation. “When?”
“After Christmas, we’ll head out. I want to get out of that state as soon as possible,” he said, his voice filled with disgust.
Gran reached out and squeezed his arm. “Did she sign the papers yet, dear?”
He shook his head, focused on his plate. “She’s still fighting it. Says I can’t prove there was fraud involved.”
“So, wait.” I wiped at my mouth with a napkin before placing it back in my lap. “Are you saying that there’s nothing you can do to fight it?”
“I’m just saying that the burden of proof is on me. And how do I prove all that?”
