“I've been dealing with anxiety about the Westpoint game,” I said, which was true. “And seeing my therapist more. Maybe that's why I seem off.”
“And I've been stressed about exams,” Rosie added. “Plus working. We're both just busy and tired, Aaron. There's no conspiracy here.”
Aaron looked at his sister, then at me, then sighed heavily. “Fine. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just being overprotective.” He rubbed his face. “It's just that you're important to me, Rosie. And Derek, you're my best friend. If something was going on between you two, it would be... complicated.”
“Nothing's going on,” Rosie said, and I heard the tiny crack in her voice that Aaron thankfully missed.
“Okay. Okay, I believe you.” Aaron started packing up his laptop. “I'm going to head out. This essay can wait.”
As Aaron walked past me toward the exit, he paused and gripped my shoulder. “Hey, just so we're clear? Rosie's off-limits. I know you'd never, but I'm just saying it out loud. She's my baby sister, and you're my brother. That line can't be crossed. Ever.”
Each word was a knife to my chest.
“I know,” I managed to say. “I get it.”
Aaron nodded, satisfied, and left the café.
The silence that followed was deafening. Max had strategically disappeared to the bathroom, leaving Rosie and me standing there, the weight of Aaron's words crushing down on us.
“Derek…” Rosie started, her eyes glistening.
“Not here,” I said quietly, knowing we couldn't risk even a comforting touch. “Later.”
She nodded, grabbing her things quickly. “I need to go.”
I watched her leave, my chest aching with everything Icouldn't say, couldn't do. Aaron's warning echoed in my head:That line can't be crossed. Ever.
But we'd already crossed it. And there was no going back.
Max reappeared at my side. “That was brutal, man.”
“Yeah.” I sank back into my chair, feeling like I'd just played three games back-to-back. “This isn't sustainable, Max. Something's got to give.”
“So what are you going to do?”
I thought about Rosie's taste still lingering in my memory, the way she looked wearing my hoodie, the messages on my phone filled with words we couldn't say out loud. I thought about Aaron's face when he'd warned me off, the trust in his eyes that I was actively betraying.
“I don't know,” I admitted. “But I can't lose her. I won't.”
“Even if it means losing Aaron?”
The question hung there, unanswered, because I didn't have an answer. Not one that didn't make me feel like the worst friend in the world.
My phone buzzed.
Rosalie
I'm sorry.
We should stop. This is too hard.
But I don't want to.
I don't know what to do.
I stared at the messages, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. What could I say? That it would be okay? That we'd figure it out? Both felt like lies, even though Aaron had just made his position crystal clear.
Meet me at the studio tonight. 11 pm.
