I glance up, skeptical. "What did I say?"
"You told me I was lucky I didn’t die because if I had, you would have brought me back just to make me clean the mess."
I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the flicker of warmth that tugs at the corner of my mouth. "And that’s stuck with you?"
He shrugs. "We’re all just one bad decision away from losing it all. But you? You’ve always been the one who steps in when things go south. You tell people to pull it together. Not everyone has that."
I straighten, narrowing my eyes. "Are you trying to guilt me for not being here?"
Brooks shakes his head, his expression serious now. "No. I’m agreeing with you about your mom. She has it hard, sure. But life is full of hard things. I know that better than anyone." He glances toward the hallway where Jasper disappeared with Mom, his voice dropping. "Some people just… need more help to handle it."
"If you think Jasper is too soft on Mom, then why don’t you tell him?" I snap, my tone sharp enough to cut through the tension.
Brooks meets my gaze, his jaw flexing. "Because Jasper can’t handle it. You know that as well as I do. That’s why you didn’t threatenhimto clean up the mess back then. You came to me."
"That doesn’t mean I wanted to," I mutter, but the truth hangs between us, weighty and undeniable. He’s right. I never yelled at Jasper because I knew Brooks would keep him safe. Even then, I knew Brooks could handle the hard things Jasper couldn’t.
He’s quiet for a second, his eyes not leaving mine. And suddenly I see it. The same exhaustion, the same heaviness I’ve been dragging around, mirrored right back at me.
"You and me," Brooks says, stepping closer. "We’re built differently. We can take the hard truths. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy."
I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, exhausted. "I don’t want to be here."
"I know," Brooks says, his gaze softening.
"I just want to go home," I whisper, the words cracking at the edges.
"Life’s full of hard things," he repeats, quieter this time. And I believe him. Not because it comforts me, but because it sounds like something he’s had to survive.
I look up at him, his eyes steady on mine. He understands. That’s what makes it worse. Because if Brooks is right, then life isn’t just full of hard things, it’s about deciding which ones are worth staying for.
CHAPTER SIX
The Girl from Highlight
The local coffee shop is a whirlwind of clinking mugs, quiet chatter, and the occasional hiss of steaming milk. The walls are painted a faded teal, mismatched chairs crowd small tables, and the shelves are crammed with kitschy decor: ceramic roosters, vintage coffee tins, and a "Live, Laugh, Latte" sign hanging slightly crooked behind the counter. It’s like Pin-It threw up in here, but somehow, it works.
I stand in the long line, trying to tune out the guilt gnawing at the back of my mind. Dad’s in a hospital bed, and I’m here. But I needed a breather. A moment without Jasper and Brooks hovering like twin shadows, tag-teaming me every second I’m with Mom. Jasper’s lack of trust stings, but maybe he thinks he’s doing the right thing. Maybe.
The bell above the door jingles, and the peaceful din behind me erupts into mild chaos as someone elbows their way through the crowd.
"Ah!" Brooks’ stupid voice cuts through the noise before his arm—his gross, unwelcome arm—snakes over my shoulders. "Couldn’t find a parking spot close by."
My mouth falls open as I spin to glare at him. "What are you doing?"
"The line’s all the way to the door," he whispers, his lips tugging into an infuriating smirk. "Saw an opportunity to cut ahead, so I took it."
"You just lied to jump the line," I groan, shoving his arm off me.
"A tiny, harmless fib," he says, winking.
The barista calls out, "Next!" just as we reach the counter, and I decide to let it go. Partly because I don’t want to cause a scene, but mostly because I’m too tired to argue.
"What can I get you?" the barista asks, her smile bright but impatient.
"A skinny vanilla latte," I say, then, on a whim, I loop my arm through Brooks’. "Oh, and a chocolate croissant." I glance up at him, my sweetest smile plastered across my face. "What about you, babe? What are you getting?"
His grin falters for a split second, but he recovers quickly, his voice dripping with mock enthusiasm. "Just a regular coffee. Leave room for creamer."
