Chapter Twenty-Eight
Brody
“What about that time when Brody unleashed like a thousand crickets into the school for senior prank?”
“That was good, but it wasn’t better than the time he prank-called Mrs. Thornton and convinced her that her husband was lost in Walmart.”
“He made the call from the back of the classroom! While she was in the room! How did she not figure it out?”
My friends’ voices were the loudest in the entire restaurant, and I couldn’t be sure if all the attention we were getting was because more than a few customers had recognized me (which they had), or if my friends were just that obnoxious.
Somehow, the night had turned into recapping Brody’s Biggest Hits, which ordinarily I would’ve been fine with, but tonight I was too exhausted to play the role required of me.
Still, I found myself slipping into it anyway, because what else could I do? Drag everyone else down? Put a damper on the first evening I’d had with my old friends in years?
“You know how it goes,” I shrugged with a trademark grin.
All of that stuff I’d only done to get my friends to laugh, because that’s why people kept me around.
I was the comic relief. The one to keep everyone in good spirits. The one to fill the awkward silences with a quippy remark.
It had been exhausting back in the day, but now? It was honestly unbearable.
I didn’t know what was the matter with me. These were my friends. My best friends since childhood. This is what we’d always done. Got together, cracked jokes, blew off steam.
But tonight? It felt so empty.
I didn’t want to talk about bullshit pranks I pulled in eleventh grade. Or recap the way we got drunk at our senior prom and spray-painted the side of the school. Those were fun times, and I’d enjoyed them. But this wasn’t my life anymore. And all I wanted was to run like hell back to it.
I wanted Cassie talking so fast through a story that I could barely figure out the punch line. I wanted Liam making everyone who approached us for autographs uncomfortable with his dismissive stares and broody silence.
And most of all, I wanted Maggie.
To sit beside me, with her hand on my thigh under the table. To ask me what we had for snacks when we got home. To whisper something in my ear that had even me blushing. To just be here, with me.
Instead, I shifted in my seat, mentally rehearsing a list of clever comments to pull out later when everyone looked to me expectantly.
“Hey,” Tara leaned over, “are you okay?”
“I’m great,” I said. “Thanks for getting the crew together.”
She stared at me.
“I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted. You just seemed so sad and I just thought—well, you always seemed so happy around your friends.”
I always did seem to be happy around my friends, because they wouldn’t have wanted to be around me if I wasn’t. But why the hell was it so much harder now to keep that smile on my face that I thought I’d already perfected?
Because now you know what it’s like to have people you don’t have to pretend around.
“I just thought it would cheer you up,” Tara continued. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“You didn’t.”
Abbey might have. But I didn’t blame Tara for that.
“Really, it’s nice to see everyone. Thank you for bringing them here.”
“You’re my little brother,” she half-shrugged. “I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, Tara.” I nodded. “I know.”
So that’s what I did for the night.
I was happy.
At least, I pretended to be.