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“Wiping my fingers.”
“Why?”
“Because I touched the doorknob when I went into the gym to ask about you.”
“How tragic.”
“Indeed.” He nods. “My car sanitizer is out. So I’m stuck wiping my hand every five seconds. Not that I think it’s going to help, you understand.”
“Of course not.”
“But hope springs eternal.”
My big brother, ladies and gentlemen.
Stuck-up fucking ass.
“Thrilled to see how you haven’t changed,” I say. “Do you mind telling me why you’re here and why the fuck you’ve been blowing up my phone these past couple of weeks?”
He puts back his handkerchief, all neatly folded, and thrusts his hands down into his pockets, watching me silently again. “How are you?”
What the fuck?
Are we exchanging pleasantries now?
We haven’t seen each other in two fucking years, haven’ttalked to each othereven in two fucking years, and this is what he says to me.
I go to say something derogatory but then I take a moment.
And in that moment, I study him and as I said, he hasn’t changed much.
He looks every inch like our father.
Same face — sharp and stern, devoid of any emotion — same dressing sense, same mannerisms. It’s like our dad is still alive and I bet he is.
Through his first-born son.
“I’m fantastic, thank you. But forgive me if I don’t care enough to ask how you are.”
His eyes — exactly like dad’s but a lighter shade than mine — sweep over my features, my body. “You’ve lost weight.”
“And you’ve got a gut now.” I pat my own. “You sure this is the look you wanna go for? No girl’s ever gonna kiss you.”
I’m lying, of course.
Like so many other things in his life, my big brother excels in fitness as well.
In addition to playing soccer in high school and college and now recreationally, he’s a black belt in karate and does jujitsu for fun. If anything, his muscles look even more honed and stronger under that suit.
And I do know of a girl who’d die to kiss him.
Lucky fucker.
“If you’d picked up any of my calls or bothered to call me yourself, I would’ve…”
“You would’ve what?” I prod when he trails off.
And then I see something on my brother’s face that for a second makes me think that it’s a trick of the light.
