He laughs at my habitual insistence that our birth certificates are just plain wrong.
“Besides, I’m more mature,” I say.
“How do you figure?”
“Simple observation.”
“I’ll attest to that,” Hannah says. Alex laughs while Owen pinches her side, pulling a playful yelp from her graceful throat.
“For real, is everything okay?” she asks me, stepping away from Owen and leaning closer so only I can hear her. Owen whines like a toddler and Alex shoves his shoulder.
“Yeah,” I say.
She lifts that bullshit-detector eyebrow of hers.
“I don’t know,” I say, shrugging. “She won’t answer my texts.”
Hannah nods, clearly unsurprised. “Just give her time. You both have to get used to this new thing between you now.”
“But it’s not new. It’s old. Years old. That was the whole point of the breakup.”
“Was it?” Hannah tilts her head and smiles at me and I sort of hate it. It’s an Oh, you poor sad little thing kind of smile.
“Oh, shut up,” I say, and Hannah laughs, nudging my shoulder with hers.
Before we can talk any more about everything I’d rather not talk about anyway, Owen hooks his arm around Hannah’s waist and pulls her to his side. “Babe, let’s go.”
“I’ll see you later?” she says while Owen presses his face against her neck again.
I wave her off and force another smile. “Yeah, sure. Go make out or whatever.”
Owen tousles my hair as they pass, no doubt to get a drink before slipping onto the trail that meanders in and out of the woods alongside the lake. Also known as Make-Out Maze. His hand is tucked into one of the loose pockets of Hannah’s dress.
“They’re sort of disgusting,” I say with a laugh.
“To say the least,” Alex says. “Want to get a drink?”
“I thought you were the DD?”
“I am. A soda for me, nasty vodka punch for you.”
“Sounds irresistible.”
We head toward the water and the keg of beer. Next to that, there’s a table full of red Solo cups and a huge blue water jug containing, as Alex accurately guessed, some amalgam of fruit punch and vodka. It’s pretty gross but it forces my knotted stomach to unclench a little.
We wander around for a bit, talking to kids from school as I plaster a smile on my face, trying not to think about my phone lying on my bed at home, most likely textless. Depressingly textless. My peers offer up confused glances, eyes circling the space around me and then frowning when the only person they see is Alex. It’s annoying as hell. They wrinkle their noses when I’m holding Charlie’s hand and they wrinkle their noses when I’m not.
About an hour in, I spot Owen walking off with Hannah toward the trail, one hand all over her ass and the other lifted into the air, cup sloshing red liquid all over his arm. He yells and whoops while Hannah tries to get him to shut up with a hand on his mouth. He’s totally smashed.
“Called it,” I say to Alex, gesturing toward my brother as he and Hannah disappear into the trees.
“The man loves his vodka punch.”
“A little too much, if you ask me.”
“Speaking of,” Alex says, peering into my empty cup, “refill?”
“Eh, why not? But if I start grabbing your ass and hollering like an idiot, cut me off.”
