“Just try and be nice, Mags. Please,” Jacky begs as Zoey pulls up to the house.
Jon offered to go to the grocery store so we can have brunch ready by the time my parents return from church. I would normally scoff at that kind of behavior, thinking he is sucking up to get on my parents’ good side. But this is truly how Jon is. He’s thoughtful, kind, and selfless. I also think he’s giving me space to face off with Zoey. Clever asshole.
“You know her dad is the chief of police. He was the reason we were able to get a team over to help you and Jon.” We share a look at that comment.
“So, I’m just supposed to thank her and forget how she treated me?” I cross my arms over my chest tightly. I love my brother. But I hate him right now. “Why is it so important to you that we get along, Jacky?”
For such a big and tall person, Jacky is a tender-hearted guy at his core. He always wants everyone to be friends. Ever the peacekeeper. He rubs the back of his neck, trying not to let me see his lips trembling. My heart breaks a little. I don’t want to hurt Jacky’s feelings. I also don’t want to be in a forced friendship with his fiancé. Girls like her have never liked girls like me. It will be easier if we all just accept this fact and let bygones be bygones.
“You’re my sister, Mags. My best friend. I’m going to be married to Zoey in a couple of months. I’m committing myself to her. To be her husband, her pillar of support, and partner in life. I don’t want to have to choose between you two.”
That comment makes me stop and look up at him.
“Who would you choose?” I ask, nervous that I already know the answer.
“Please. Don’t make me choose,” he pleads.
Those four words make everything around us still. The light breeze ceases. The birds chirping in the tree next to our family home’s driveway are silent. I’m pretty sure the Earth has stopped its rotation around the sun.
“You would choose her.” It’s not a question.
Jacky’s shoulders sag and his eyes become glassy. “Just, try to get to know her. I gave Jon a chance.”
“Jon’s perfect!” I cut in, my heartrate spiking along with my contempt for Zoey.
“So is Zoey. For me. I think you two both need to give each other a fair chance,” he says.
“Is this an ultimatum? Either I become friends with your girlfriend or you’re not my brother anymore?”
I’m so close to joining Jon at the grocery store and leaving my brother to do whatever the fuck he wants.
“Fuck. Margeaux. No! This isn’t a fucking ultimatum. I’m going to be with Zoey whether you like her or not. It will be easier for everyone if you two are kind of friendly. I’m just asking you to try. If you two simply don’t get along, I’ll drop it and stop asking.”
I hear the defeat in his voice, as if he already knows Zoey and I are going to butt heads and storm away from each other. I think about what I would do if for some reason, Jacky and Jon didn’t hit off. No question, I’d choose Jon, but a part of my heart would break knowing the man I love doesn’t get along with my twin brother. I owe it to Jacky to give Zoey a fair try. Maybe first impressions aren’t her strong suit.Or second, or third impressions.
“Fine. But you’re not moderating this shit. Go for a jog or something,” I tell him.
He laughs and gives me a hug. “You’re the best, Mags. I love you so much for just trying,”
I hug him back, hoping it’s not the last time. He lets me go and waves me off as he walks down the street for an aimless walk.
I turn and see Zoey still sitting in her car, reapplying lip gloss in her mirror. I roll my eyes thinking this is going to be the steepest uphill battle. Girls like Zoeyneverwanted a girl like me as a friend. Even before I was all tattooed and pierced. I’m crass, aggressive, and not the happy perky type.
I knock on her driver’s side window, and she startles, maintaining perfect control of her lip gloss applicator. She twists the cap back on and tosses it in her bag sitting in the passenger seat. She gives me a perfect smile, which I tell myself is probably forced. Everything this girl does is forced. Nobody is naturally this happy.
She lowers her window, looking up at me expectantly.Am I supposed to say something first?
“Are you hungry?” she asks, full chirpiness and smiles.
I pause, my brain remembering how to have a conversation. “Uh, yea. But Jon’s planning to make brunch for everyone once my parents are back from Church,” I say.
Zoey waves her hand, dismissing my concern. “Oh, they’ll beat leastanother two hours. Your mom chats everyone up afterwards. Gossip is her love language.”
Not going to lie. That’s pretty fucking accurate. I do my best not to smile, but I fail, and we both share a short laugh. “Come on. We can get Starbys!” she squeaks.
Aaaaand I’m back to rolling my eyes. Nonetheless, I get into her Ford Focus. She moves her purse to the backseat, and I’m surprised that her passenger seat is already shifted as far back as it’ll go.
“Jacky rides shotgun a lot. So, the seat is permanently set to his height,” she says, as if she can read the question on my face.
