Chapter Twenty-Six #2
I grin, understanding his meaning instantly.
Our eldest brother is so private that we’ve always joked he’d just show up one day and announce he’s married, none of us the wiser that he’d even been seeing someone.
“No,” I say around a laugh. “We just reconnected when I moved to Cleveland. I wrote an article about his band.”
Anna coos, and Austin narrows his eyes, picking lint off his Vassar sweatshirt. “Isn’t that, like, not allowed in your profession?”
I press my lips together, puffing out my cheeks before releasing the breath.
“Yep,” I say, popping the p. “I mean, it’s not not allowed, but it’s frowned upon.
I told my boss, and I thought it was fine but then the internet figured it out and now the article that was supposed to launch my career is under scrutiny and the risk I took freelancing for AP in the hopes of it turning into a job offer is…
Well, there’s pretty much a zero chance of that happening now,” I rush out, as if it’ll be less painful to say it quickly. “Anyway, should I make more popcorn?”
Without waiting for an answer, I launch myself off the couch and bound up the stairs to the kitchen, ignoring my brothers’ cries calling me back.
My dad wanders in, dumping the floor popcorn into the trash as Biscuit watches mournfully.
He busies himself in the kitchen as I wait for the kernels in the pan to pop, making himself available to talk if I want to.
The sigh I let loose when I dump the popcorn into a bowl must speak volumes, because he eases the bowl from my grasp. “I can take this down if you want.”
I’m about to say I can do it, when I realize he knew what I needed before I did. I nod, not ready to face the inquisition that will resume as soon as I set foot downstairs.
I trudge upstairs, down the hallway to my room, not stopping until I reach the window that opens over the roof and climb outside. I suck down the cold November air and watch the blinking of airplanes in the night sky as they pass overhead.
Before long, the window scuffs as it opens, Gray’s head poking out. “Can I join you?”
I nod, patting the shingles next to me. He launches a blanket over to me before climbing out, and I drape the Roof Blanket over myself. It’s a tattered, knitted afghan, the one we won’t let our dad throw away even though it’s half-unraveled from years of roof hangs.
Gray settles next to me, and I laugh as he eases an entire bottle of our dad’s fancy Scotch out of his sweatpants pocket before lying back to stare up at the sky with me.
He uncorks it with a faint pop, taking a swig before passing it to me.
I swallow a small sip, wincing as it burns all the way down, my insides warming.
“Billiam’s beside himself that you’re bringing a guy home,” he tells me.
Our dad went by Bill when we were little, but when he took his professor job, there was already a Bill in his department, so he started going by William.
We found that hilarious and started calling him Billiam instead.
“I’m pretty sure he ironed the curtains. ”
I smack him lightly with the back of my hand. “He did not.”
He takes the bottle of Scotch back from me saucily. “Okay, he didn’t, but he’s rearranged the den so many times everything’s back in its original position.”
I grin, and we fall silent for a minute, passing the bottle back and forth.
I love all my brothers, but as the youngest, Gray and I had to team up against our older, bigger brothers, so we’ve always been the closest. Likewise, Nate and Bryce are close, and Austin…
is an enigma, the quintessential middle child who is all of us and none of us.
“So, what’s up?” Gray asks, nudging me gently with his elbow.
I exhale heavily, watching my breath cloud in the air above me. “Dax and I had a fight before I left.”
Gray nods slowly, threading a finger through the holes in the blanket. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I think for a long moment, not sure where to start, if I want to start. “Do you remember that blood pact we made on the roof?”
He holds up his left hand, the scar on his ring finger shining in the moonlight. “We thought we were so clever.”
“How do you mean?”
Gray scoffs. “I mean, we were kids. We didn’t know what the fuck we were talking about.
And yeah, it sucks Nate gave up his dream college to follow a girl that dumped him two weeks into the first semester, but I dunno…
I’ve made dumb choices for a guy before, but I’m still glad I made them, that I tried, y’know? ”
I blink up at the sky, mulling that over. “So… you never took that oath seriously?”
“No,” he says around a laugh, then sobers up. “Wait—did you?”
I cover my face with my arm.
“Oh, Sammy,” he says pityingly. “It’s not a bad pact,” he admits. “You’re literally cooler than all of us for it, with your big plans, big dreams.”
I snort. “I don’t feel very cool.” Then quietly, I confess, “I think I fucked everything up.”
“The job or the guy?” he asks knowingly.
“Both.”
“Which one are you most upset about?”
I blink, thinking, but I know the answer immediately. “Dax. And that scares me.”
Gray falls silent for a beat, then murmurs, “Do you love him?”
My heart squeezes. “Yes,” I breathe, watching the admission swirl in the air above me.
“Well, the way I see it,” he begins slowly, studying the scar on his ring finger in the moonlight, “the only way we turn out like her is if we walk away without trying. And you, my badass sister, who is, in fact, the coolest of us all”—I laugh disbelievingly—“always end up getting everything you want. You’ll figure it out. ”
“I don’t get everything I want,” I counter.
“You’re the most driven person I know. Always have been.
” He fixes me with a look, counting off on his fingers.
“You were a sophomore in college by the time you graduated from high school. You applied to one college—your dream school—and got early acceptance. You locked down your dream internship before you’d even finished your double fucking major.
You got back the guy you spent years mooning over—”
“I did not moon,” I protest. “And that internship was a flop.”
“So?” Gray scoffs. “Everything working out isn’t the point. My point is, when you want something, you make it happen. Figure out what you want and go for it. And if it doesn’t work out, make a new plan, but at least you tried. You’re not her so long as you’re trying.”
I inhale sharply. Figure out what you want. I know what I want. But more importantly, I know what I don’t want. And I think I’ve known since Robb first slid me the piece of paper, but I wasn’t ready to let go of my old dream, to trust my heart over my head.
“Do me a favor?” Gray asks.
“Hmm?”
“Get it right so I can believe in it, too.”
I place my hand over his, squeezing, surprised when he grips me back twice as tight. I wait a minute for him to talk if he wants. When he doesn’t, I loose the joke on the tip of my tongue.
“What, Bryce and Anna aren’t selling the dream for you?”
Gray honks a laugh. “Fifth time’s the charm, huh?”
“Please,” I say gravely. “They’re at least on try number seven.”
Gray chuckles. “Hey, at least they’re trying.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “I can’t let Bryce show me up.”
“Oh god, no,” Gray agrees. “I’d never let you live it down.” He holds up his hand, extending his ring finger to me like a pinkie promise. “New pact—”
I link my finger around his.
“Try.”
I wait, but he doesn’t say anything else. “That’s it?” I laugh.
He nods slowly. “Yeah. I think it’s that simple.”
I shake our linked fingers, sealing the deal. “Okay,” I agree. “To trying.”
I hope my brother’s belief in me isn’t misplaced, and as a plane arcs overhead, I begin making a new plan, hoping against hope that Dax’s silence isn’t the before kind, the three-year kind, but him making his own plans, too.