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Naturally, Derek is sitting on the chair in the living room that has the perfect view of me when I step inside the house. It’s like he was waiting for this to happen.
His face still hasn’t healed all the way, but I can’t help but feel a little proud that I am the one who did that to them. He still has bruises and scabs, but to my dismay, he looks cheerier than ever.
“Merry Christmas, Little Brother,” he says to me, a smile plastered on his face that is probably fake.
“Brennan!” Mom cries to me, turning around on the sofa to me. Even Dad turns and nods his head at me, too.
“Merry Christmas, everyone.” I step slowly into the living room, where they’re all sitting and watchingA Christmas Story, the movie we put on every year after breakfast and presents.
Mom gets up and hugs me. It’s not one of her normal hugs, but I suppose I will take what I can get. When we pull apart, I go to sit on the other recliner, on the opposite side of the fireplace from where my brother is.
“No Selena this Christmas?” I ask him.
He chuckles at me. “Spending time with her family this year,” he explains. “I couldn’t go with because of the games coming up.”
I nod my head slowly, not believing it for a second. Maybe Selenadidgo to have Christmas with her family, but I am a hundred percent certain that she didn’t want him to come with.
“Shut up and watch the movie,” Dad snaps at the both of us. I shoot Derek a glare the same time he does, then we turn our focus to the screen.
* * *
Later in the evening—whenwe’ve all had our naps, and I’ve gotten to take a shower—I sit back in the living room on my phone, just hoping and praying that Leah will send me a text. Even a simpleMerry Christmas.
I don’t know why I’m so bothered. Who cares if she was mad at me? It’s not like we are friends. It’s not like we’re going to make plans to hang out next week. I just happened to run into her when I was alone on Christmas Eve, and she was just a kind being who was willing to let me tag along with her family. That was that. Even if she gave me her number, that doesn’t mean that I should text her.
Right?
When I look up, Derek is leaned against the stair railing, a beer in hand. “I saw you,” he says.
Mom and Dad are in the kitchen, preparing for our family to come over for dinner.
“Saw me what?” I ask.
“Last night. You were with Leah. And her family.”
Heavy tension hangs in the air.
Even now, seeing him standing in my parents’ living room, picturing his massive hands causing small, fragile Leah any pain, makes my skin crawl.
I shrug. “It was a bar crawl. We had fun, actually.”
He opens his mouth, and I know he’s about to ask me what I was doing with her, but then the front door opens, and in walks the governor and his daughter.
Derek turns around. “Uncle Gerry!” he says in greeting, going to hug the man.
Governor Gerard Reiner, our uncle, hugs him back warmly. “There’s my football star!”
Derek goes to hug Jennifer next, but she backs away from him with a disgusted look on her face. “Didn’t you, like, hit a bunch of girls?” She isn’t afraid to ask. I smile at her, and she ducks around the two to walk to the living room to see me. We hug briefly, then she pulls a flask out of her purse when her dad and Derek aren’t looking. “Want some?” she asks.
I raise my eyebrows at her. My cousin has always been a little bit on the rebellious side, but she’s never gotten drunk at a family gathering before.
I guess it might make it a little more fun.
“Are you even twenty-one yet?” I ask her.
“Who cares?”
I give her a lopsided smile, take the flask, and throw some back. I don’t know what I expected to taste—probably something fruity—so I nearly choke on the Jack Daniels.
