"I didn’t say it was," I counter, folding my arms. "Just curious how she’s doing."
"She’s training to become an astronaut," Brooks cuts in, rolling his eyes. "Which is super badass, by the way. Unlike your cheating ex-boyfriend."
Before I can fire back, my phone buzzes with a new message.
I ignore the peanut gallery as I check it.
Holden:Surgery ran late. I’m changing out of my scrubs and heading your way. Be there in 20.
Of course he was in surgery. Of course I’ll wait.
I turn my phone around so Jasper and Brooks can see. "He was in surgery."
They exchange another one of those looks.
Annoying.
"Is ‘surgery’ code for cheating?" Brooks smirks.
My stomach knots, and before I can think better of it, I stand abruptly from the recliner. "You two are horrible people."
Then, without another word, I stalk toward the door.
I don’t say goodbye. I don’t turn around. I just step onto the porch, arms crossed against the warm summer night air, and wait for my date.
I don’t remember much about my relationship with Holden in junior year, just that he was sweet and attentive. He always walked me to class, held doors open, and our sweaty fingers intertwined made eating lunch an impossible task.
We’d kiss. He made dumb choices. So did I. That was then. This is now.
The screen door creaks open behind me. I don’t need to turn around to feel his presence.
"Go away, Brooks," I ground out, my grip tightening around my phone.
He doesn’t listen, of course. Just shoves his hands into his pockets and steps beside me on the porch. "I’m sorry if we upset you."
I scoff. "I don’t need your apologies."
"We all just want what’s best for you," Brooks tries again.
I finally turn to face him, his features bathed in the flickering porchlight. His mouth is set in a firm line, but there’s something indecipherable in his expression. Concern? Frustration? I don’t know.
"If everyone in that house felt that way," I say, voice sharp, "then Jasper and Mom would get in the car and drive to the hospital."
Brooks flinches, a barely-there reaction, but I see it. Feel it.
His grandmother died. So, why won’t he talk Jasper into going to see Dad before it gets to… that? If it even does?
I take a breath, steadying my voice. "They trust you, Brooks. And as much as it pains me to say it, they trust you a hell of a lot more than they trust me. Talk to them."
"I have tried, Ellie." His voice is raw, exhausted, like he’s carrying more than he lets on. "They don’t listen to anyone. You know that."
I shake my head. "It’s not fair," I grumble. "It’s not fair that you and I have to carry the weight of everything. This is why I went to California. I didn’t want to do this anymore. I wanted…" I trail off, gripping the porch railing. I wanted to be free. I wanted to be selfish.
"They’re doing the best they can," he tries.
I roll my eyes. "Maybe Mom is. But Jasper? Jasper went on a date, Brooks. He got coffee with a girl. If he showed up for her but won’t show up for Dad, then no, he’s not doing his best. He’s being selfish."
Brooks exhales heavily, dragging a hand down his face. "That’s… a good point," he admits, like he’s just now realizing it. "I didn’t think about it that way."
