“What?” I kick a van tyre for something to do with my restless feet. “I’m feeling festive.”
My tone is so sour even I wince, and Tam gives me a look. One that lets me know he’s about done with my flippant bullshit and about to go full parental on me if I don’t make my escape in the next six seconds.
Fix this.“I’m okay.” I speak fast, before he can. “Really. Just fucking tired. Esme didn’t sleep well last night.”
More truth. And it’s all the more reason for me to stay right here. But Tam doesn’t say that again. He stares deeper. Steps closer and wraps his ink-stained hand around my chin. And look, he’s my brother. It’s annoying when he manhandles me like I’m still twelve and half a foot shorter than him. But I can’t help the longing my third epiphany set in motion when Tam met Bhodi and his whole life changed for the better. Can’t help wishing his hand was someone else’s, and the energy in that grip was more feral than fraternal?—
Andman,why did no one in NA ever warn me that craving cocaine could be replaced by something so much crueller?
Something that doesn’t numb me, but splits me open instead, my fragile soulneedingin ways that feel far worse than any fucking drug?
“Je t’aime, frangin.”
Tam’s fierce affection breaks into my melodramatic headspace. I blink away my wildly inappropriate imaginings and focus on him. On the dark eyes we share and the Dubois propensity to let our entire lives be ruled by emotion.
“I love you too.”
“Yeah?” Tam grips me harder. “Then stay. I’ll keep my hands off Bhodi, I swear.”
I roll my eyes. “As if you could. But it’s not even about that. You two don’t have to be touching for me to feel that love, bro. AndIlove to see it, I swear. I’m just…I don’t know.”
“Lonely?”
“Yeah.”
“When did you last get laid?”
“Are you even listening to me?”
Tam flicks my ear. “Course I am. I’m just wondering when you last had some intimacy in your life.”
“Well, you can keep wondering.” I twist free of his grasp. “Or ask Bhodi. I tell him way more shit than you these days.”
Tam snorts, knowing it’s true. Loving that I adore Bhodi as much as he does. “Maybe I will ask him.”
“All right then.” I open the van door and haul myself behind the wheel, already missing Esme babbling in the passenger seat. “Let me know how that turns out. Can I leave now?”
For a moment, it’s touch and go. Then the house next door’s early bird Christmas lights come on, casting him in sparkly blue, and it jars him into motion.
He moves out of my way. I start the van, cringing at the noise from a diesel engine that sounds how I feel—like it needs stripping out and rebuilding with new parts before it rattles itself to death.
Tam opens his mouth to point out the fucking obvious. That I need to pay Raff, our mechanic pal on Bell Street, a visit, sooner rather than later, but I drive away before he can speak again, guilt eating me up. It doesn’t feel good to leave my brother hanging. He’s my best friend. My ride or die. But for whatever reason, this…thingin my heart, I can’t talk about it. Not with him. Not yet. Maybe not ever, and I don’t know how many moody Christmases it’s going to take to change that.
So I go home.
I don’t live far from Tam. Not anymore. I leave Stardust Lane behind and drive through town to the run-down street where the only house I can afford nestles somewhere between Esme’s nursery and aboulangeriethat sells the best croissantsin England, a phenomenon that excites me far more than the vampy girl who serves them.
Sorry, Bhodi.
Though, I’ve heard the baker who makes them is all kinds of hot. Themalebaker.
Fucking hell.
I turn onto Cosmic Avenue, sunk into my thoughts enough that I don’t notice the blue lights in the distance, or the giant red trucks blocking the road. I’m up the arse of the car in front before my wits return to me.
Slowing, I crane my neck to see what’s happened, but Cosmic Avenue isn’t like Stardust Lane. Despite the whimsical name, there are no early festive lights, the street lamps barely work, and it’s as foggy as a Parisian jazz bar. Beyond the front of the van, I can’t see much past a mad long queue of idling vehicles, and as an acrid scent filters into the van, I realise the air is heavy with smoke.
Something’s burning.
