Chapter 9 Annika
When a tap comes from the front window, I realize Dre is standing outside the bookstore, his hands in his front pockets.
With the dying light of day serving as the backdrop, his dark hair flutters on the breeze, and he reaches up to push the longer strands out of his eyes.
It’s a scene so familiar yet so different at the same time.
For one, he’s lost some of the boyish roundness to his face and looks more like our father every day.
For two, his biceps never looked like mini mountains before. Hockey is apparently treating him well.
With that thought comes all the memories of football games and baseball championships.
Hockey was never on his radar…until after the fight.
Then he latched onto the new sport with a vengeance born of fury.
Suppose it doesn’t hurt that it’s the one place he could actually fight somebody and not get expelled for it.
Thinking about the conversation we’re about to have, I can honestly say that there’s never been a time where my twin and I have been on opposing sides of a situation.
This will apparently be the first. For hours last night, as I laid in bed and let my mind sift through all of the new pieces to a puzzle I didn’t know was missing any, I came to a startling realization.
All those years ago, I simply took my brother's word for what happened.
Never once did I question his story or consider that the guys might tell a different one.
I simply did what I always do and stood by his side.
Was I wrong?
Tap. Tap. Tap.
My gaze meets his frustrated one as his hand taps his wrist like he’s got somewhere to be, but I don’t care. He owes me this. His social calendar can wait. Even though I’m not looking forward to it, it’s beyond time for this conversation.
Flipping the sign, I step out and lock the door behind me.
“Jesus, kid. What took you so damn long?”
Shooting him a glare, I pocket my keys and start walking north up Main Street. “Oh, I don’t know, Dre. Maybe, just maybe, I have a business to run that requires my attendance since it’s literally just me, myself, and I?”
He grins, falling into step beside me. “I know. I’m just giving you shit. I appreciate you taking on the bookstore because if Nan had left it to me, I’m pretty sure the entire town would riot and show up at my door with pitchforks.”
“Surprisingly, I don’t mind. It came at a time when I didn’t know what I was going to do and helped give me a purpose, but it’s been—”
“A lot. Yeah, I know. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, Nik.”
The lights kick on at We Got the Scoop just before we cross the street.
“C’mon. Ice cream first. Real talk after.”
The little green building is one of my favorite places in town.
With its two serving windows, a bottom display window showcasing the baked goods they sell, and the three wooden picnic tables situated out front where residents can sit and enjoy the decadent dessert, people of all ages can be found here on just about every night of the week.
I remember Nan walking Dre and me to this place after dinner, for celebrations after a sports win and good grades on school projects, or a pick-me-up scoop after a bad one.
It’s where both good times and serious discussions have been had, because ice cream just makes everything better.
Luckily, it’s too early for the dinner rush, so no one is around, which is important for the discussion we’re about to have. In order of gossip tally, it’s Timberline, End Zone, and then We Got the Scoop. Gertie, of course, is a regular at all of the above.
Walking up to the window, I scan the list of normal flavors and glance at the specialty of the week.
Ghost Pepper.
“Ha! The unattractive green tint of your skin tells me you remember the time I dared you to try that one. You spent the night next to the toilet because apparently your stomach doesn’t tolerate spice in any form whatsoever.”
“Ugh. I didn’t need that reminder, thanks.”
His chuckle makes me want to punch him a little.
“Hey, guys. What can I get for you?” Mrs. Winthrop asks, a large smile creasing her face.
Her family has owned this shop for generations, and I can’t remember a time when her or one of her kids hasn’t been here running it.
“A two-scoop cone with strawberry and mint chocolate, please.”
Dre sighs. “I’ll pay for this later, but a three-scoop waffle cone for me with butter pecan, cookies and cream, and peanut butter chocolate.”
“You’ve got it. That’ll be eighteen dollars even.”
I glance at Dre, giving him the look, and he just sighs and pulls out his wallet.
“You know,” Dre says as we wait for Mrs. Winthrop to come back, “you’re the one with the jobbie job now. Shouldn’t you have paid for me?”
The corner of my lips quirks up. “I have a feeling that by the end of this conversation, you’ll be paying for every ice cream night for the next three years.”
His sigh makes me laugh. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
In a blink, we’re handed our treats. “Here you go. If you need anything else, just holler.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Winthrop.”
With a smile and a nod, she walks to the back counter, leaving me and Dre to find a table.
He picks the one off to the side, farthest away from where the line typically forms. We each take a side, situating ourselves on the bench seats that appear to have been recently refinished. No splinters this time, thank goodness.
“So…” my twin begins, taking a long lick up all three flavors.
“I’m not dating them, Dre.”
He grunts like the thought pains him. “Fake dating still has dating in it, Nik.”
My eyeroll is slow and heavy with exasperation. “You act like I’ve agreed to marriage or something, Jesus. They each helped me fend off Frederick, and that’s it. Nothing beyond that.”
“You mean to tell me you’d say no if they asked you out on a real date?”
“Dre, look—”
“It’s like everything that happened back in high school means nothing, like time has healed those wounds, but not for me, Nik!
I had to give up football, and sure, I’ve learned I’m actually damn good at hockey, but that’s not the point!
No matter what excuse they come up with now, it doesn’t absolve them of their guilt. ”
I think about those words, letting them roll around in my head for a moment. “It came to me last night that I never asked any questions after everything happened, and I think it’s beyond time I did.”
“Okay, ask away. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
My ice cream starts to drip, so I quickly lap up the rich, creamy treat despite barely even eating lunch. When I glance up, I find him finishing off the second of his three scoops.
“How the hell did you eat that so fast?”
“It’s a skill you probably don’t wanna hear about.”
“Ewwww,” I gag. “You’re right. Keep that to yourself.”
“Told you so.”
“Anyways…” I consider all of the things I want to know and try to prioritize them. “Who swung first?”
His eyes meet mine across the table, and I can see the hamster wheel spinning. “I don’t see—”
“Dre… Who. Swung. First? It’s a simple question requiring no justification.”
He takes a deep breath and exhales, his shoulders slumping like he’s been carrying a heavy weight for years. “I did.”
I had suspected as much.
“And how many hits did you land before Owen fought back?”
“Fuck. You’re going for the jugular, aren’t you?”
Shaking my head, I searchingly stare at my cone, like it has all the answers I need. “I’m just trying to make sure I have all the facts this time around.”
“Why is it so important now, though, Nik? If you’re not interested in them, why does it matter?”
“They were our friends, Dre! Never once did I question what you told me. I just blindly took your side, and I’ve now realized how unfair that was.”
His brows furrow. “I’m your brother. Your twin. Of course you took my side. They broke my goddamn arm.”
“First of all, Owen broke your arm. Not all of them. Secondly, I now know you started it, and that changes things.” There are so many things I want to say, but they’re getting jumbled in my brain so I take a moment to finish my cone.
Dre stays silent, understanding I need the time to get my thoughts in order.
When we’ve both finished, I wipe off a couple of stray drops from the tabletop until I’m finally brave enough to meet his intent stare.
“Yes, you are my brother and I will always be there for you, but that doesn’t give you a free pass to my support.
When you’re wrong, I’ll tell you you're wrong. When you need a swift kick in the ass, I’ll be there.
And sure, when you need my help and love, I’ll drop everything to be with you.
But I’ve never had cause to doubt you…until this moment.
Now, I’m wondering if I was a total bitch to three guys who might not have even deserved it. ”
He plants his elbows on the tabletop, his expression severe.
“But they were still talking about their sexual conquests like they were tallying up points on the field. When I heard your name like you were next on their list, I lost it, Nik. They weren’t going to talk about you like one of the team groupies, for fuck’s sake. ”
“Dre, I know you don’t want to hear this because we have a strict rule in place about this topic, but Owen had already taken my virginity the day before the fight. When I said I was hanging out with Jess Cooper, I was actually in Owen’s old tree fort with him for the entire afternoon.”
He stares at me, blinking slowly, as my words roll around in that stubborn brain of his. “So he really was talking about you that day. Not just random girls they were… Nope. No. Not gonna say it because that means I have to acknowledge your place in that comment. Fucking gross.”
“I assumed, when you mentioned him talking about girls, that he’d already moved on and found another virgin to deflower. I hid my hurt and betrayal behind a wall of anger and acted like your protector. I wasn’t even willing to hear their side of the story—not that they tried to tell it, mind you.”
He holds up his hand. “First, never use the word deflower again. Second…” He scratches his chin. “Why didn’t they try to give their version of events? It would’ve gone a hell of a long way to calm you down and gotten you off their backs.”
“I don’t know. I also don’t understand why they always antagonized me, which just made it worse.” Shaking my head, I prop my chin in the palm of my hand. “But regardless, I kinda feel like an asshole now, and I don’t particularly care for the sentiment.”
He reaches out in an un-Dre-like gesture, gently touching my other hand. “Whatever happened in the past, it’s not your fault, Nikki. It’s mine. But dammit, I promise that I was only sticking up for you. I’ll be damned if someone talks about my sister like she’s just another pussy to destroy.”
“And… Our sibling chat is officially over for the night.”
He laughs, but I can tell it’s just his way of easing the tension that has creeped into my shoulders now that guilt has begun to weigh on me. “No, but for real. I understand why you feel that way. But tell me this… Does it really change anything now?”
What a loaded fucking question.
Yes?
No?
I’m volleying between everything I thought I knew and the truth that, despite my brother’s objections, might just change everything.
“To be honest, I don’t really know. I have no intention of dating anyone right now.
I just got out of a long-term relationship that obviously isn’t ending well and have barely settled in here.
I kind of just need time to let all of this settle, find myself again, and figure out what I want, ya know? ”
He nods, shifting his body to slide off of the bench. “I think that’s smart, Nik. There’s no rush. Maybe when you’re ready to dip your toes into the dating pool again, I could introduce you to some of the newcomers in town.”
My nose scrunches up as we toss our trash. “You? Set me up with a guy? No, thank you.”
He slides his arm around my shoulders, and we head back to the shop. “Aww, c’mon. It’s not that bad. I’d pick someone awesome for you.”
“If by awesome, you mean a dude who still lives at home with Mama, has never worked a job in his life because he stays home and games all night… Hard pass, bruh.”
His cackle makes me smile. I really did miss the shit head. “Nah. I know a couple of dudes who I wouldn’t maul if they talked to you.”
“Just a couple?” I scoff.
“Yup.”
We talk about the gnome and flag shenanigans, Hemingway’s latest jump scares, and Nan before he drops me off at my apartment door.
“Look, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about how everything went down back then. I can see now that I may have jumped to conclusions and created a shit storm out of nothing. But I did it with the best intentions.”
Leaning in, I give him a big hug. “I know you did. That’s the only reason my knee didn’t connect with your balls.”
With a groan, he backs out of my hold, placing his hand in front of his crotch. “Jesus. I forgot how feral you can be. No wonder you and Hemingway get along so well. You’re kindred souls.”
“I have taken quite a liking to the little guy, but also… I’m glad I reminded you that I’m not exactly a pushover.”
“Noted. Now I’m gonna salvage what’s left of my man card and head out to meet up with the guys. Sure you don’t wanna come?”
“Maybe next time. I have a book to finish.”
“You and your books.” He rolls his eyes playfully. “Night, sis.”
“Night, doc.”
His sigh follows him as he jogs down the stairs.
I slip inside, lock the door because the ex-hole is still lingering in town, and decide to hunker down on the sofa and read.
The rest of my problems can wait until tomorrow.
Or the next day. Or never. Guess we’ll have to see how it goes. Me and avoidance are besties now.