“Mashed potatoes. It’s your favorite food, right?”
It’s Kellan’s favorite food, but it’s not mine. I actually rather despise mashed potatoes. The gritty texture... no.
It’s too bad I can’t tell him that. All I do is smile and say, “Yes.”
Lying kind of sucks.
Max is a perceptive one though. His gaze narrows, the softness falling away from his mouth, which my eyes pass over. We sit side by side at the table, our shoulders close, but not yet touching. One of his long, powerful legs is stretched out across the cracked linoleum floor, the chair tiny in comparison to his body size.
He says, “Why do I feel like that was a lie?”
The screams peak as a group of four children dive into the ball pit. Red, yellow, and blue balls explode and roll to a stop against the netting surrounding the area. Ball pits are where diseases grow, I swear.
“Kellan.” It’s a soft rumble near my ear that sends a bolt of electricity down my spine. My crotch is suddenly uncomfortably tight. I shift in my seat to relieve the pressure.
“My favorite food is fettucine alfredo.”
Surprise overtakes his features. His thick, dark lashes lower to half-mast. “Really? I thought you said mashed potatoes were your favorite food.”
I’m screwing this up. This is why I probably should have gone home when I had the chance and worked on my project. It’s probably too late now. “That was then, this is now.” I hope he accepts the answer. Lying doesn’t come naturally to me. I prefer being straight with people. It’s why Sebastian and I constantly butt heads, because he can never accept the truth. The more I lie though, the easier it gets. I’m not concerned, not yet, but it’s something I want to remain aware of. “What’s your favorite food?” I ask, to distract him.
“Fried oysters. I’m from the Pacific Northwest and that’s probably the thing I miss the most. There’s this oyster bar that I love, but I only go there when I’m visiting my family.”
“Only child, or siblings?” I hope Kellan hasn’t already asked Max these questions.
My assumption is Kellan has done no such thing. Max appears pleased by my interest in his life. “I have a brother. He’s in med school right now at Johns Hopkins. Our own future neurosurgeon.”
“Do you—” I stop, suddenly nervous. “Never mind.”
“No, tell me what you were going to say.”
My heart starts acting up. It’s almost too easy for me to open up. “Do you ever feel like you’re not enough compared to your brother?” There’s a pause, and I hurry onward, afraid he’ll realize I’m in part asking this question because I want to know if other people with siblings feel the same, or if it’s just me. “What I mean is, he’s pursuing this amazing career. I’m not saying playing soccer makes you less of a person, but our society centers success around our choice of work, and doctors are highly regarded.”
“No, I get it.” He sips from his drink. The plastic cup is stamped with the face of a giant mouse. “I guess, yeah, I do feel a bit inadequate sometimes. But I have to remember my brother and I are different people. His path in life is not mine, and I don’t want to be a doctor. So, really, I’m fine with it. My moments of inadequacy are mostly in my head. When I think about it, I’ve accomplished a lot.”
That makes sense, and I wish I could be more like Max, able to recognize my brothers’ accomplishments as separate from my own, neither more nor less, just different.
One of the employees starts clearing off the table. The birthday party ends at six. The only reason we don’t have practice today is because Coach Wheeler has the flu. Thank God for small miracles. My legs wouldn’t last another round of circuits. Like running on a hamster wheel, as far as I’m concerned. My admiration for Kellan’s work ethic is far more than it used to be.
“What’s it like growing up with three brothers?” Max asks.
I’m wondering what answer to give him. The answer Kellan would say. Some one-liner likecrazyor, if he’s feeling more verbose,funny as shit.
At least I can say the truth with this topic.
“You know, it’s never been one thing. Sometimes it’s amazing. Other times sitting in the same room with my brothers is physically painful. We all have completely different personalities, and they don’t always mesh. Sebastian can be pretty selfish at times, arrogant. Maverick is the sweetest and most thoughtful out of all of us.”
“What about your twin. Noah, right?”
“Oh. Right. Noah is—he’s—” Who am I as a person, but more importantly, how does Kellan see me? Kellan and I have always gotten along pretty well, at least compared to Sebastian and me. We all have our ticks, of course.
“He’s an introvert, for sure. He doesn’t like bullshit. He’s smart and ambitious. He does computer science and wants to own his own video game company.”
“He likes video games, too?” Pleased surprise.
Then, Chloe rushes over, her face alight, hair streaming behind her. “Uncle Max! You have to play in the ball pit with us!” She clasps his hand with her tiny one, tugging. “Please, it’s so fun! Robert’s pretending he’s a shark in the water, and we all have to swim away from him!”
Max groans. “Chloe, I’m too big to play in the ball pit.”
