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“You’ve implied it plenty,” Levi says with another grunt. “What advice did she give you?”
“She’s revisiting it.”
“Okay, but what did she say that has you all…” He peers over at me and just waves a hand.
“She compared me to a fictional character and pretty much said, unless I want to lose my friend, I should forget about it.”
He grunts again. Levi speaks perfect caveman—he could be a translator.
“What?”
“I kind of agree with her.”
I could punch him—and my face must show it.
“I’m sorry. I just think someone who turns you into a groveling idiot and makes you lie about your feelings isn’t someone you should pursue.”
I grind my teeth and walk over to the next sheet. “I don’t lie. And the idiot part isn’t her fault. It’s the reason I need to change what I’ve been doing.”
“You do lie.”
I pull in a breath. I know what’s coming, and yet, I can’t come clean.
“How do you really feel about the Dallas Cowboys?”
“What does it matter?” I heave the right side of the next sheetinto his hands. He knows how I feel. So, why does he want me to say it?
“It matters because it’s one of the many—”
“Not many,” I bark.
“Yes, many things that you lie about.”
“I don’t lie. I just don’t care enough to disagree.” I swallow and don’t make eye contact with my brother. Nope, I focus on this screw gun.
“You hate the Cowboys, Owen.” He reaches over and snatches the gun away from my hands.
“Hate is a really strong word.”
“It is,” he says, forcing another screw through the sheetrock and into the stud in the wall. “And I’m pretty sure youhatethem.”
“Maybe in junior high—”
“Nope, always. Until Annie brought you home that Cowboys jersey from Dallas.” He stands straight, letting go of his side of this sheet. It’s half screwed in and won’t fall over on him.
A door bangs from the floor below, and then—
“Owen?”
Annie’s here.
“Upstairs,” I yell. I give Levi one glance, hoping he’ll behave.
Annie’s trotting feet sound over the stairs, and then her red head pokes into view. “Hey! I bought you a new shirt, and I’ve got notecards with—” Her eyes fall on Levi. Her smile falters. “With notes.”
“Sounds like a good use for notecards,” Levi says, screwing in the last corner of this sheet. He smacks the screw gun onto my desk.
Annie’s lip curls. I’m pretty sure these two turn into misbehaving children whenever they’re near each other. “Hello, Levi.”
