SEE? You don’t have to be mean to everyone. I’m your sister, family, and you could be nice to me.
I AM nice to you.
Be nice to Nettie then if you see her again.
She’s not family.
I’m not obligated to be nice.
TATE!
What? I won’t be seeing her again anyhow…
You need therapy, ya jerk.
Already there – but thanks a lot.
His phone buzzed immediately with an incoming call. Tate groaned. Gina.Of course.He swiped to answer but made sure his voice carried every ounce of irritation he felt.
“Seriously, Gina, it’s wayyy too early in the morning to deal with your shiny-sunshine-rainbow-crap,” he muttered, throwing an arm across his eyes as a brutal shaft of sunlight broke through the blinds and stabbed him directly in the corneas.
“Then you get all of the shiny-family-we’re-related crap, jerkwad,” she shot back. “Seriously – how are we even related? What do you mean ‘already there’? Are you in therapy?”
“You got all the bubbles,” he said, half-smiling despite himself. “And I got the rest—you know, the good looks, the build, the smarts, all the finesse…”
“You forgot to mention attitude.”
“It’s there. Just clearly unspoken.”
“Gee—can we?”
“No—we can’t.”
“Don’t-hang-up!” Gina blurted, her words tumbling together like a single rushed plea.
Tate arched an eyebrow beneath the crook of his elbow. She sounded… desperate? There was a panicked tone to his sister’s voice that was not often heard. In fact, he could only recall it happening once when she tore a seam on her prom dress. Yeah, that tone was new – and unsettling.
“Look,” she continued, her voice softening, “things have been tough for Nettie since her GiGi died… and she’s struggling. You know her and?—”
“So?” he cut in sharply, but the word snagged in his throat. He hesitated. “Struggling how?”
“I just need you to be a little nicer to Nettie if you see her again.”
“Which I won’t…”
“Which you could,” Gina countered quickly. “Because she’s still living in her grandmother’s house down the street from Mom and Dad’s place. And I know you’re coming over for dinner on Sunday. If you see her, maybe just… turn the growl down a bit. Wipe up the drool, Cujo. Tone the snarl down to a grimace for everyone’s sake.”
“I’m not that bad,” he muttered, but the jab hit home harder than he liked. His chest tightened as fragments of the last two weeks came back—the coach’s lecture, the looks from teammates when he’d barked at them, Emil, Nettie’s startled face when he’d snapped at her.
Nettie. Gina’s best friend since forever. The girl who used to tag along like a shadow when they were kids. The girl who giggled too much, asked too many questions, and always, always found a way to get under his skin.
But yeah—she was human. And he admittedly had been a jerk. He knew what he did when people came at him sideways: he fought, he snapped, he retaliated. On the ice. In the gym. He burned it out before they could do it again.
What did Nettie do? Pout? Cry? Sit in that old house with her hurt feelings?
Alone – like him?
The thought made his gut twist uncomfortably.
