Epilogue
TOM COBALT
Officially one year of knowing him. So technically speaking, it’s our anniversary, and I would like to file an official complaint regarding all little sisters everywhere. Because mine is usurping my day with my boyfriend.
But it’s fine—it’s okay. I’m very happy about Audrey’s arrival. I’m not at all concerned hell may break loose. Because if it does, I thrive best there.
I jolt from my guitar when a strange tap sounds against my doorframe.
Phoenix laughs. “Scare you?” He must’ve tapped his motorcycle helmet on the wood. Before I can answer, he’s already saying, “I let myself in.”
“Your key does need exercise.” I hop off my bed and set my guitar upright in its stand. “You should keep using it. Make sure it doesn’t grow weak and frail. Or else you might have to break and enter.”
“I’m sorry—you can’t open the door for your boyfriend?” His snappy tone makes me smile.
“Yeah, no, Phoenix, those duties are beneath me. I am a Grammy-nominated artist who might be a winner come February.”
“Then what the fuck am I?”
I inch toward him. “Grammy-nominated artist, dude, which is why your feet should really only be touching red carpets.” I gesture to the wooden floorboards. “Beneath you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You will?” He won’t.
“No.” His sharp-eyed gaze scans the walls of my room in unfamiliarity. His fingers skim the sound-dampening foam boards attached to the charcoal paint. “Breaking and entering,” he repeats. “You would just love for my rap sheet to grow, nepo baby.”
“Not true. But I would bail you out of jail for defending my honor.” I take his helmet from him. “And I like the chaos.” I think about today and scrunch my face in a grimace. “Most chaos. You sure you want to be here today?” As if Phoenix isn’t almost always with me since the Forest Hills show.
Being apart is rarer.
“Yeah,” he says, no hesitation. “Not just for your sister.” He watches me set his helmet on my dresser. “It’s our one-year.”
“You’re here for the anniversary sex.”
He glares. “Yeah, Tom, I just really want to fuck you.”
“I mean, you better, dude.”
Phoenix lets out a tight laugh. He rakes his fingers through his dark hair, then says, “Come here.” He seizes my wrist and draws me into his six-four build before I can even make a move. My chest knocks into his, and I clasp the crook of his neck and shoulder, my body warming at his closeness.
Our lips ghost until he presses a teasing, aching kiss against mine. My hand slips up into his hair, and he murmurs, “How long do we have?”
“Not even five minutes, unfortunately,” I say. “She’s already in the building. Of course she’d choose today to move in.”
Phoenix frowns. “Is she fucking with you?”
“No, no, no. It’s a coincidence. Probably the universe telling me I need to be nicer to my sister.”
“Probably,” he nods.
I scoff. “Dude, don’t agree with the universe when it’s trying to teach me life lessons. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
He claims one more kiss from my lips, then groans when his phone vibrates against my leg. He reaches down into his cargo pocket and checks the text.
“Fuck,” he curses. I’m prepared to raise hell on his behalf. He sees the look in my eye. “It’s not a life-or-death situation, Cobalt god. Put away the battle-axe.”
“But it’s so fun to hold.”
He rubs at his eye, tired. I don’t ask him how much he slept. I know Birdie does it enough. “I missed my appointment.”
I frown. “Your appointment?”
“With the psychologist.” He sighs. “I booked it with Harriet back in December, and I thought it was for January fifth, not the fourth.” He explains further, “We made New Year’s resolutions together to try out therapy to deal with our shit.
I meant to tell you earlier. I just haven’t thought about it since then. ”
My lips rise. “Your loss because I would’ve remembered the appointment for you.”
“Shut up.” He’s smiling off my smile, and when our expressions soften, he says, “I’ve done all the physical testing to figure out my insomnia, but not the mental side, so seemed like I should try it.”
I nod. “It’s a good idea. You said you can’t shut off your brain at night, and maybe it’ll help with that.”
“Maybe.” He sounds more hopeful.
I love that my boyfriend takes New Year’s resolutions as seriously as I do—which are really birthday wishes for him—but I am hard stuck on this joint venture.
“You and Harry,” I blink several times. I’m happy she feels ready to work through the trauma her horrifying mom obviously gave her, but I did not see her joining forces with my boyfriend to do so.
No crystal ball on Earth could’ve predicted this. I would challenge anyone to bring me one that did.
“Your friendship has evolved to therapy friends,” I say in shock.
“If you keep calling her a demon, your friendship is going to be stuck in purgatory.”
“Dude, what friendship?” I recoil.
He stares me down. “You two are going to get on my last nerve.”
“It’s exactly how I feel about you and her. See, she’s the root of all—”
“If you say evil, you’re going face-down on the bed.”
I smirk. “Try me.” He has his arms around my ribs, about to tackle me into the bed—then a knock pounds the doorframe, and we stop in place. Phoenix’s arms stay around me, even as Beckett appears.
My older brother’s lips rise with palpable sincerity. Beckett’s tiny smiles have always been superpowered.
Ever since he’s opened up to me, they hit a little deeper.
His yellow-green eyes shift to Phoenix. “Can you help me with something? It should only be a minute.”
“Sure.” He releases me.
Once they’re gone, I put on socks since today’s adventure is going to call for footwear. I hear a pair of knuckles at my doorframe.
“Everyone is so polite today. Knocking.” I look up. “Ben Pirrip, what can I do you for?”
“You left these in my closet.” He hoists my old sneakers. “Not that I mind storing your Converses, but I figured you’d want them in your new room.”
I try not to think too hard about how I’m in need of shoes and Ben shows up with three pairs. I might actually start believing I have real godly powers, and that’s just too far for me. There is a limit.
“Forgot I had those,” I say. “You can set them near the dresser. Thanks, dude.”
He puts them down. Like Phoenix, his gaze drifts around the charcoal walls. “Foam boards are new?”
“Yeah, they got installed this morning. I haven’t told Phoenix yet, but there’s enough room for a drum kit in the corner. Perks of not sharing a bedroom. Not that I didn’t love our time together.” I hold his gaze. “Priceless, and I mean that. Like times a bajillion.”
Ben smiles, warm and genuine. “Yeah, same, man. I don’t take any time spent with you guys for granted.”
That feels good to know.
He sits beside me on the bed. I like that he’s hanging out here for a second.
I lift my sock up my calf. “I wish Dad heard me use a made-up word so I could see his eye twitch.”
“It does do that when you say gazillion-bajillion.”
I laugh. “I knew it.”
Ben smiles wider. His eyes seem brighter as they travel around my things, landing on my framed Silver Sweet album vinyl on the wall. “It’s definitely an upgrade from Eliot’s.”
Eliot gave me his room. I painted over the red walls, and there’s no ginormous four-poster bed engulfing the space or thick, heavy drapes obscuring the window.
Ben fits on a baseball cap backward and adds guiltily, “Don’t tell him I said that.”
“He won’t care,” I remind him. “You could literally call him an ugly grotesque monster, and he would not take a single word personally.” I tug the leg to my jeans down and stand. “What he knows about himself cannot be weakened or damaged by the opinions of others.” I tap my temple. “Strong mind.”
“What’s it like having one of those?” he banters.
I try not to look disturbed, but his morbid humor has high shock value, being my sunshine baby brother.
A smile plays at his lips. “Joking.”
“Stop coming for my comedic crown, Ben Pirrip,” I warn.
“I don’t think I’m much of a contender.”
“Not with that attitude.” We share a laugh, and I remind him, “And dude, you know what it’s like having a strong mind. You and Beckett have the strongest minds of us all since your brains are in constant battle.”
Ben leans back on his palms. “I like how you view the world.” It’s one of the most out-of-pocket nice things anyone has ever told me. That’s just Ben.
“I’m glad we still live in the same apartment so you can keep telling me awesome things about myself,” I say. “One of the many reasons.” The other reason comes hopping into the ajar door. “My nephew. Come to visit.” I outstretch my arms to Mister Feathers.
Ben is laughing as the white cockatoo hops past me. He flies up to Ben’s shoulder and head-butts his cheek. Then he chirps, “My home, my home.”
Good choice.
Though I have my ways with the bird. I unpocket dried-fruit treats and feed him from Ben’s shoulder. We chat about how Harriet has braved a return to the Honors House. She said most of her dormmates haven’t brought up the ordeal. Those that did just blamed her mom for causing drama.
“For a minute there, I thought she was about to move in with us,” I tell Ben.
Ben has a soft smile. “I never doubted that she’d go back. Fisher is tough.”
I don’t disagree.
“Incoming,” Phoenix announces with two nails between his teeth. He’s walking backward with something huge in his arms. Beckett holds the other end.
A midnight-blue sheet covers what looks like a framed picture or portrait or…
“Wait, is that…?” I trail off, frozen as I stand in the middle of my room, as Beckett and Phoenix prop what I’m almost positive is a painting on my dresser. It’s the same size as the Thomas Cole painting that I threw out—the one destroyed during my birthday rager.
Apropos, considering it was Destruction. The fourth painting in Cole’s five-part The Course of Empire series.
“Here, okay?” Phoenix points to the free space on the wall while taking out a hammer from his ass pocket.
That shouldn’t be attractive. Fuck him for literally making a hammer look hot. This should be illegal in front of my family. A crime…I hope he keeps committing.
“Tom.”