Chapter Eighteen
Still dumbfounded by Grayson’s revelation and Ty’s pep talk I knew I needed to stop by Fin’s house before I left for my parents. It was finally spring break and I was spending four whole days at home. My mom and dad were begging me to stay the entire week, but I felt like four days was being generous enough.
I hauled my suitcase down to my car and then ran back up to get my phone charger and say goodbye to Britte who was leaving later in the week to spend time at her mom’s in northern Minnesota. “Britte, I’m leaving!” I called once I found my phone charger.
She walked out of her room, hair askew in a high side ponytail that had seen better days. Her eyeliner was smudged under her eyes and her two day old pajamas were stretched out and baggy.
“Yikes!” I couldn’t even hide my terror. “What happened to you?”
“Moving kicked my ass,” she groaned on her way to the kitchen.
Moving Britte in had been one of my better life decisions. Not only did she pay her share of the rent on time and in full, she also bought groceries. That she was willing to share! Right now she was opening a can of red bull and pouring herself an industrial size bowl of Captain Crunch.
“So you can’t shower?” I asked, amused by this dulled but none the less gorgeous side of Britte.
She grunted something unintelligible and then said, “Your brother is emotionally exhausting me.” She finally confessed around a huge bite of cereal. “After he moved the couch yesterday he actually stayed around to talk to my dad.”
“What?” I gasped.
“Apparently because of the whole baseball thing, they have a lot in common,” she winced. “Beckett told my dad he was going to look him up on Facebook.”
“Oh no,” I shook my head in disbelief. “Your dad has Facebook?’
“It gets worse.” She set her cereal bowl down and dropped her head into her hands.
“How can it possibly get worse than that?” I whispered.
“After my dad left, Beckett wanted to stay and talk tome!” She was shaking her head now, her face still covered by her hands.
“What did you talk about?” I asked carefully. I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to know. In my entire life I had never known Beckett to want totalkto a girl. Especially a girl he didn’t have to talk to in order to hook up with her in the first place.
“Nothing!” she dropped her hands in defeat. “I told him we had nothing to talk about. And that he was reading way too much into a drunk make out!” She looked at me wide-eyed and then dove back into her cereal.
“And what did he say?”
“He said I would come around and then got up to leave. This made me panic just maybe a little bit because I shot back with, ‘Why would I come around when I don’t even remember making out with you in the first place?’” She winced again at the memory and I echoed her.
“Oh, no. Did you piss him off?”
“Uh, yeah,” she admitted dryly. “He didn’t even say anything; he just looked at me like I disappointed him and left.”
“Well, at least you didn’t have to talk to him. You did save yourself from that inevitable train wreck.” I sympathized.
“That’s true,” she nodded thoughtfully. “I feel bad though.”
“Because you do remember kissing him?” I asked carefully.
“Um, yes. It has all come back to me, in hung-over bits and pieces of reckless drunkenness. I know you don’t want to hear this Els, but you’re brother has a right to be so cocky. Good lord,” she sighed and then took another huge bite of cereal.
“So what’s the problem?”
“It’s Beckett! This box of cereal is more emotional availability than him. Plus, I get the feeling he just wants to soothe his wounded pride. It pissed him off that I didn’t remember him right away and then that I didn’t fall right into his arms as soon as he put minimal effort into getting my attention. I’m majoring in Bio-Chem, I don’t have time to play games and I really don’t have time for Beckett. He’s used to being the center of everything, I hardly believe he’ll understand when I say no to watching him work out in the gym with all his other fan club girls because I have to study six hours just to pass myhomeworkinstead. Never mind what it’s like around midterms and finals. We are too different. That’s all there is to it. Plus, he’syour brother. How weird would that be?”
“Super weird,” I agreed. All of her points hit their target and I had to wonder what Beckett was thinking. Britte was probably right, his pride was wounded and he was desperate to rebuild his ego. “Do you think he’ll leave you alone now?”
“Oh, yes,” she nodded emphatically.
“What about your dad? Do you think he’s really planning on friending him?”
