I guess I like it when things feel temporary. No one expects anything from me, which is good.
I don’t have much to give.
Padraig drives, both hands on the wheel. Calm. Steady.
He’s always steady. My opposite twin.
Wind whooshes through the half-open window, whipping my hair into my mouth. I tap my foot against the floorboard, chasing a rhythm in my head. Something fast. Angry. A beat to keep me from thinking too much.
“She texted yet?” I ask about his girlfriend, Stevie, who’s back home in Seattle for the summer. I don’t like it when Padraig’s sad and he never likes to be separated from her, even for a minute.
“Aye.” He doesn’t look at me. “Said her mom nearly cried when she walked in. She’ll check on Ma and the wee lads tomorrow.”
“How long’s she staying?”
“A few weeks.”
I stare at the road ahead, trying not to seem elated. “So it’s the two of us for a while?”
“Aye.”
Our eyes meet for half a breath. Then he looks back at the road.
I try again. “Dar, I’m glad we have some time. It’s been years, you realize.”
He doesn’t answer.
“All I’m saying is there isn’t any part of us she isn’t part of anymore.” The words come out sharper than I mean.
Truth always sounds like an accusation when it’s been festering.
He shifts in his seat. “You’re not being fair.”
“No? Tell me. Why exactly are we checking this singer out if you’re gonna choose Stevie over me and the band in the long run?”
“What the fuck?” He turns, confused. “Do you have something you need to say?”
I might as well get it off my chest. “Stevie isn’t into the band stuff for the long haul. Do you not listen to her?”
His mouth sets in a thin line. I’m right, and he knows it. Even if he doesn’t want to believe it.
I don’t hate Stevie. I never could. She’s sunshine in human form. Our next-door neighbor and childhood friend turned twin’s lover. She’s believed in our band from the beginning.
On the other hand, she’s Padraig’s gravity. I’m watching him orbit further away from me every day and I already have plans.
Bigplans.
“I don’t wanna create music with anyone else, Dar,” I tell him. “I’m gonna do it no matter what. With or without you.”
He gives me a look. Part hurt, part pity. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. What’s gotten into you?”
“You don’t even notice I haven’t been around much,” I mutter. “At least you haven’t said anything.”
He stiffens. Guilt flickers behind his eyes, but he doesn’t apologize.
“See,” I say. “She’s the most important thing to you. Not school. Not me. Not Fireball.”
Padraig grips the wheel. “Stevie doesn’t take me from you. She fills something else.”
