“No, I mean why have we always been enemies? Aren’t twins supposed to have some kind of deep-rooted connection?”
“Not ones who have been pitted against each other since birth,” I sigh, leaning back against the wall. Fuck, I am in pain. I meaneverythinghurts.
“Who’s doing do you think that was?” he asks. “Dad’s?”
I half shrug. That hurts too. “Could have been mom’s for all we know.”
“I don’t remember mom,” Avery says flatly.
“I do. Glimpses anyways. I remember strawberry blonde hair. A smile to beat all smiles. Apple scented perfume. And the song "Straight Up” by Paula Abdul.”
“Fucking Paula Abdul,” Avery smiles as much as he can considering his lips are already swelling. “She loved all that crazy 80’s shit.”
“K-ninety-nine-point-nine,” I say, before we both say in unison, “The jam.”
Then we smile. Both of us. Something that probably hasn’t happened since the last solar eclipse or maybe before.
“Listen,” I start but Avery shakes his head.
“No, you listen.” He sits up enough to pull a flask from his pocket. He would. Then he unscrews it, takes a sip, winces and holds it out to me.
I want to tell him to put it away. To lecture him about how drinking on the job is one of the reasons he will never ‘get ahead’ as he puts it. Not that I can say much. I too find this company unbearable enough to turn to the bottle at times. Not daily like Avery but still.
But I don’t do that. For once, I join my younger-by-sixteen-minutes brother. I take the flask and pour a little of what I know is bourbon in my mouth. Then I suck the air between my teeth hard.
“Fuck, that hurts.”
Avery chuckles grittily. “Have a little more, it numbs the pain.”
My lips tip in the corners. But his words are deeper than he intended.
We pass the flask back and forth until it’s dry. He’s right about one thing. The whiskey really does take the edge off.
“You know I never hated you,” Avery says as he takes in a deep breath and lets it out with a cough.
“The fuck you talkin’ about?”
“Come on, you know exactly what I’m talking about. You were always one step ahead and I was always trying to trip you. But it wasn’t hate. It was jealousy.”
I snort out part of a laugh. I don’t think Avery and I have ever talked like this before. I’m not sure how I even feel about it now. But he keeps going.
“Dead serious, brother. I was jealous because you weren’t as greedy as me. You were never focused on winning. You paid attention to the game. And it paid off. Everything you did, you did it the right way and it shows. Fuck, I’m jealous of you now.”
“Why are you jealous?” I ask. I don’t know how to process this. Our entire lives, Avery Hardin has not had an apologetic or humble bone in his body. At least not that I have seen.
“You’re fucking joking right? Think about it. Successful, levelheaded, a girl who loves you.”
I stop him there. “Hold up. What do you know about Amanda and me?”
“I know that you meeting each other was a fluke. I know that her working here was an even bigger one. And I know you’ve held onto that accidental marriage as a benefit.”
“You think we’re faking it?” I cut him off.
“I think that YOU think you’re faking it. Marriage by chance was a great card to draw, brother. And I can’t blame you for holding it close to your chest. I mean, shit. I’ve been with Zoe for several months now and we still don’t have the chemistry you two have.”
I think about that, turning over the empty flask in my hand. “Well unfortunately the marriage was real but the relationship…is not. I thought it was but…”
“You might be the better man but you’re an idiot, Callum. If you think whatever going on between you and Amanda isn’t real, you are truly dense. And you know what else is real? The baby.”
