“That’s not the kind of friendship he and I have.”
“I know I’m half your age, but I’m old enough to know that’s a non-answer.”
He snorted and ratcheted back his seat a few levels so his face turned up toward the roof.
“You’re not half my age,” he said.
With a sigh, I watched him settle in his seat, then I opened his sun roof and reclined my chair to match his.
“Miles thinks I should talk to my brother about this,” I started.
“You don’t want to?”
“Not really.” A bird overhead swooped low and squawked.
“Why not?”
“My brother can be pushy.”
Colin snorted and closed his eyes. I looked back toward the tinted sun roof, open enough to let a nice gust of breeze through the car.
“Our relationship is weird because of how much older than me he is,” I said, trying to summarize my relationship with Hendrix in a way that felt fair. “He was an adult before I was born, so it’s not like he’s my brother. I call him Uncle Brother sometimes to make him mad.”
“Is that what your relationship with him is like?” Colin asked.
“Yeah. Henny’s a good brother, but he’s too much like a dad sometimes.”
“And you have one of those.”
“Yeah,” I said again.
Colin’s eyes were closed, but he nodded in agreement.
“His advice is always so similar to what my dad would say if I asked him,” I said.
“Doesn’t your dad have your best interests at heart, though? Doesn’t your brother?”
“Well, yeah,” I agreed. “But in a very soft kind of way. If it doesn’t hurt. If it’s not dangerous. If it’s safe. Those are all the deciding factors.”
“Mmmn.” Colin blinked his eyes open and stared out at the sky. He lay in the car so peacefully, his hands folded together on the top of his stomach, his breaths coming slow and steady.
“I don’t know.” I followed that with a strangled laugh. “It’s probably nothing.”
“Say it and then we’ll see.”
“Uhm.” I swallowed, so ready to talk about what had happened between David and me, but just as scared that giving voice to the thing that happened between us would make it real and that felt a lot scarier than anything that had happened since the kiss.
“I won’t tell your brother,” Colin offered, swirling his finger in the air. “Car of silence.”
“Car of silence.” I chuckled and inhaled a breath, deep enough to fill my lungs so full I worried one of them would pop like a balloon. When my chest ached to the point of cramping, I let it out.
“Take your time, Wesley.”
“It’s really nothing,” I tried.
“I don’t believe that for a second,” he said.
“I’ve known my best friend since we were kids.” That felt like an easy enough place to start. “We lived together before I moved here.”
