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“You got to pick the milk and the cereal. And I lost the cheese too. I get to pick this time.” I was going to have to get a backbone, or else we’d end up with all his favorites.
“Oh no.” Owen shook his head. “You picked out the bread and the sausage for the omelet and those little potatoes when I wanted the bigger ones. It’s my turn.” Owen reached for the pulp-free juice, his pout turning to a grin as he assumed he’d won.
“Hey!” I wasn’t ready to admit defeat yet.
“Harold, they look just like we did when we first got married.” The woman’s voice coming from behind made us both jump.
We quickly turned, seeing an older couple giving us a knowing look. The older guy, Harold, just gave her a look like she should mind her own business. “Mary, leave those boys alone.”
She gave us a sweet smile and reached out to pat Owen’s arm. “It’s so hard when you first start living with someone. But don’t fight over silly things that don’t matter.” Considering the fact that she wasn’t going all homophobic or something, I think we both were ready to let her say whatever she wanted.
We nodded, and I finally managed to mumble out something passable, “Um, yes, ma’am.”
She gave Owen another pat and started to let her husband drag her away while he muttered about nosy women. I thought we were in the clear, but she turned back just before they started to round the corner. “Besides, aren’t you boys supposed to be drinking pineapple juice instead? That’s what that article on Facebook said last week. And remember, don’t fight about silly things.”
Owen managed — barely — to wait until they were out of earshot to blurt out, “What the fuck?” His suppressed laughter had me shaking my head.
“That’s a very good question.” I glanced over at him. “Was that lady just…” I wasn’t sure how to say it in Walmart.
Owen clearly knew what I meant anyway because he started to snicker. “Oh yeah. She might be right about the pineapple juice, too,” he said. “How ‘bout we compromise and get some of that instead? We can research how true that theory is. Maybe you can work that into your paper, too,” he offered helpfully.
Not.
I gave him a look, but I couldn’t help but smile. “Compromise it is,” I agreed, feeling odd. On one hand, being mistaken as a couple could get awkward if we ran into anyone we knew, but on the other… It felt nice. Besides, as long as we didn’t start making out right there in the refrigerated aisle, we could easily justify it as sibling bickering.
It didn’t matter as much as I might’ve expected it to. It was easy to dismiss the ‘what ifs’ with him right there beside me, grinning like he was genuinely… happy. And there I was, smiling back at him, feeling just as content.
“Anything other than tasty jizz juice?” he asked.
I stared at him, not sure if I should laugh or pretend not to know him.
“…That sounded better in my head,” Owen admitted before I could say anything, running his hand through his hair.
“How could that sound better in your head?”
Owen considered a moment. “Ingredients for tasty nuts?”
“That sounds like we’d actually be eating your balls, man. I’m not eating anything that weird. Eating you out isn’t the same thing. Even I know that.” The images in my head ran from sexy to weird. He was not safe to take to Walmart. “Come on, before you get us kicked out or something.”
Grabbing both kinds of juice and getting the OJ with the pulp before Owen could say anything, I started pushing the cart down the aisle. He followed, grumbling and making snarky comments under his breath. When he said something about me guessing which one of us should drink the pineapple juice first, I just blushed.
Shoving my shoulder against him, I tried to look serious as I whispered to him, “Walmart. We’re in Walmart, not some kind of porn movie.”
“Oh, right. You were the one who was gonna get us kicked out of Walmart, not me. Got things confused for a second.” He gave me a lopsided smile. “I’m sorry, Adri.”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was genuinely contrite — and the thought filled me with baffling warmth, maybe even pride. As much as he hid his emotions, I knew he was messing with me. It wouldn’t have seemed like much to anyone else, or they might’ve rolled their eyes and said “duh,” but it was one of the first times I’d been able to tell he was teasing me instead of making a nasty jab.
Had he always been teasing, and I’d just never understood that? Were his social skills as bad as mine? Had his good vocabulary and smartass responses hidden things that I hadn’t known to look for? Had he just needed to grow up to be a nicer person?
I wished I knew one way or the other. The Owen I knew now wasn’t the same person I’d known before.
At least, I didn’t think he was. I couldn’t even picture grocery shopping with the old Owen, much less joking with him… let alone everything else we’d done. Being in the same room had been almost impossible before everything had changed. But watching him as we walked through the store, all I wanted to do was hold his hand and lean into him.
It had to be ironic in some way that I hadn’t wanted to have anything to do with the old Owen, but now that I wanted to be closer to him, I couldn’t. At least not in public. Leaning close to bump into his shoulder again, I smiled. “You can make it up to me later.”
That look of wide-eyed innocence hadn’t faded, even though we both knew he was far from innocent. How long had it been since he had been innocent? How long had I missed out on being the big brother? He hadn’t let me, but I could’ve tried harder…
Owen must’ve noticed the look on my face — which felt far from fair — and he tapped me lightly on the nose with his finger. “Stop that,” he said sternly. “You’re doing the thing. Don’t do the thing. I guess I’ll just have to make you stop thinking when we get home…”
