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Lil Stepbro: Let me know when you’re finished with your date. Something I want to talk to you about.
I snort. He has to know I’m not really on a date, right?
Me: No.
Lil Stepbro: Stop being an asshole.
Me: How do I stop being who I am?
Everyone thinks so, so it must be true.
Lil Stepbro: Are you home?
Me: What’s it to you?
I could do this all day. I realize that probably means I’m a bad person, but Troy makes me smile when I get him all ruffled, quiets some of the frustration that’s always in my head. I know he’s been through a lot too. His mom will do anything to keep my dad happy, and I think that hurts Troy more than he lets on. Maybe even more than he knows. It’s why even though I was a dick about the whole thing, I bought him the alternator. He deserves people doing nice things for him sometimes. I just have to find a way to do them while still being me.
Lil Stepbro: Can you just tell me where you are?
Me: Zimbabwe
Lil Stepbro: I’m on my way over. We’re talking whether you want to or not.
Well, shit. This just got interesting. I like it when he gets all pissy.
“You guys gotta go,” I tell Brenner and Taylor.
“Why?” Taylor asks.
Because my stepbrother is coming over.Which shouldn’t be a reason. It’s not like I have to be alone with the guy for him to tell me how big of a dick I am.
“I’m tired.”
“It’s only eight thirty,” Brenner complains. They both live on campus, so they’re always jonesing for my shitty apartment—hence the pepperoni pizza.
“Dude, whatever. Someone is coming over.”
That language they understand. If they think I’m hooking up, they know they’d be doing the same thing as me if the situation was reversed, even when Taylor sometimes forgets to think with his cock.
“You suck, Atlas,” Taylor says, but he still ends the game. “Have fun. You should teach us how to brood. Does this work?” He pulls a funny face like Brenner did earlier, that looks like he’s trying to take a shit, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Yes. That’s exactly it. You should do that to everyone you want to sleep with.”
“Bet.” He pumps his brows.
Taylor throws his arm over Brenner’s shoulder and gives him a noogie, the two of them cracking up. I have way more fun with them than I let them know.
“Thanks for the food,” I say, and we bump fists.
They bail, and I sit there trying to figure out what has Troy so bent out of shape that he has to come over. Maybe he just wants to get the alternator right away. I assume he went to the metal yard and knows I bought it. He probably thinks I’ll fuck with it or something, which I would never do.
My fingers tap a beat against the arm of the chair while I wait for Troy to show up. When there’s a knock at the door, I call out, “Come in.”
Troy doesn’t hesitate, pushing inside. “You have the fucking alternator.”
“Do I? I can’t remember if I do… Maybe…”
He runs a hand through his hair, an edge to his movements he doesn’t usually have. Something is different about this. He’s really upset, but it can’t be just about the alternator.
