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“You’re a real dick; you know that?” She looks down, and my eyes follow. I see that she’s shaking. “You don’t think I know they’re bad for me? Of course, I do, it’s just they make me feel like I actually have a grip on my life.”

It’s the first I’ve ever heard Emma even hint to feeling like her life is out of control. I take a step forward and put my hand on her shoulder. She looks up at me, her eyes glazed with tears.

“What’s going on?”

She shrugs. “Everything.” She lets out a laugh. “I don’t even know. Maybe it’s this stuff with Max. I just feel like, what’s the point? And I’ve never felt like that before, no matter how bad things seem. I’m not used to feeling this way.”

“These aren’t going to help,” I say gently, reaching into her purse to retrieve the half-empty packet. “You’re better than this, Em. You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

“That’s just what I want people to think,” she mutters. “The truth is, I’m not tough. Not like you.”

“Me?” I laugh.

“Yes. I’m in awe of you most of the time. You’re there for everyone. Max, Mum, and Dad. Me…” She shakes her head. “I don’t know how you do it. I wish I could be more like you.”

“Em, you’re an amazing chick. Don’t beat yourself up. You’re only twenty-one. You’re not supposed to have all the answers. That’s why you have such an amazing big brother. Now, if I catch you with one of these things in your mouth again, I’ll lose my shit, okay?”

“Don’t worry; I know you’re right.” She stands up, wrapping her arms around her chest in an attempt to block out the cold. “I’m never going to say that again, so don’t get used to it,” she adds, her eyes sparkling. I pull her into a tight hug, which she fights every second of, twisting and squirming away from me. “Get off me,” she squeals, and I let go, but not before I plant a big, wet kiss on her cheek.

“I love you, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah. So does everyone else. What’s not to love?”

“That smart mouth, that’s for sure,” I smirk, hitting the back of her head playfully.

“The ladies love my mouth, big brother.” My stomach rolls, as do my eyes.

“You’re sick. Please keep your bedroom talk to yourself.”

“Is it because I like vagina?” she asks, her eyes narrowing. “Are you discriminating against me?”

“Not even a little bit, Emma. I don’t want to hear about you and another woman the same as I don’t want to hear about you and a guy. Would you like me to tell you about the women I’ve slept with?”

“We don’t have enough time, manwhore,” she retorts, poking out her tongue. “I’m just teasing, anyway. Come on, let’s go eat. I’m starved.”

*****

“Dinner was great, Mum. Thank you.” I kiss the top of her head, noticing the few grey hairs that haven’t been coloured recently. I really do hate the idea of my parents getting older. Life goes by too quickly, and I don’t like the thought that one day they’re not going to be around. Nothing like death surrounding someone close to you to bring out the mortality of everyone else you love.

“You can stop by more than once a week, Andrew. This is your home, and the door’s always open, even if it’s just for a free feed.”

“I appreciate it.” She smiles as I wrap my arms around her tiny frame. I know I’m lucky to have a family I love and get along with. Not many people can say that. “I hate to eat and run, but I should get going. We’ve got something in mind to help out Max.” I stop as I pass the kitchen counter, where her double chocolate cake is waiting. My mouth waters. Mum laughs. “Shall I cut you a slice?”

“It’s like you can read my mind. I hope I can grab one for the road,” I grin.

“No, just your stomach,” she replies to my first statement, her eyes smiling as she places a huge chunk in a bowl and covers it with cling film. “I figured,” she laughs.

“Love you, Mum.” I give her another kiss and head for the door. Em comes running after me.

“I’ll walk you out,” she puffs, catching me as I’m heading down the footpath.

“I think I can manage to see myself to my car,” I chuckle. She gives me a dirty look and falls into line next to me.

“Nash called me today.”

“For what?” I ask, halting to a stop. Now I know why Max gets so upset over the thought of me messing around with Aubrey and it has to do with the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach. There’s no reason for Nash to call my baby sister. Over the course of twenty years, he’s maybe said a hundred words to her. Why all of a sudden does he need to talk to her? And behind my back, no less.

“Because with what you guys are planning, you’re going to need a kickass DJ.”

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