"What, no hug for your old friend?" he teases, standing up and stretching like he’s been waiting all day just for this moment.
"Friend?" I scoff, crossing my arms as I take him in for the first time in three years. His hair’s still that rich, tousled brown. His eyes? Still, unfortunately, that ridiculous stormy gray that makes girls fall over themselves. "Last time I checked, friends don’t leave you stranded on the zip line for three hours."
Brooks laughs, and the sound grates on my nerves. "You’re still mad about that?"
"No," I lie, lifting my chin a little higher. "Just reminding you that I haven’t forgotten."
"Well," he says, stepping closer, that infuriating grin never leaving his face, "I guess we have plenty of time to make new memories, don’t we?"
I want to roll my eyes, brush past him, and lock myself in my childhood bedroom until I can figure out a way to survive the next few days in this godforsaken place. But there’s something about the way he’s looking at me, something that makes me wonder if maybe I’m not the only one who’s changed since we last saw each other.
"I guess we do," I say, the words hanging between us. The look he’s giving me is full of something I’m not quite ready to unpack.
"Ellie," Jasper interrupts our greeting and hugs me.
"Jasp," I say as I close my eyes tight. "How are you?"
My brother shrugs as he lets me go. "Hanging in there."
"And Dad?" I inhale sharply, grasping the handle on my suitcase.
"Still unresponsive," Jasper whispers as his eyes dart over to Mom whipping something up in the kitchen.
I know the answer before I ask, but I ask anyway. "Has she been to see him?"
Both Jasper and Brooks shake their heads.
"She needs to go," I argue.
Jasper motions to the bedrooms. I move to follow him, but Brooks steps in front of me and winks. I narrow my eyes as he takes my suitcase from me and carries it down the hall.
He’s so annoying.
"She’s terrified, Ellie," Jasper explains once all three of us are in my tiny old bedroom with the door bolted shut.
"Of what?"
Brooks plops down on my old bed, his eyes never leaving my face. Why is he even here?
"The hospital," my brother answers. "And of leaving the house."
"No," I reply as I lean a hip against the dresser that’s peeling cotton candy-colored paint. "She’s gotten worse, hasn’t she?"
Jasper exhales heavily. "It’s been hard without you here."
"You mean because I was the only one who made her get out of the house?" I clarify.
I remember so many Saturdays talking Mom into going to the farmer’s market down the street with me. We always had fun, even if it took her a little while to work up the courage to leave the front porch.
"She did alright when you first left." Jasper won’t meet my eyes. "She tried, Ellie. But then the world got loud and too fast, and you were gone."
"This is not my fault," I argue. "Don’t blame me for this."
Brooks sits up and blows out a long breath. "No one is blaming you, Ellie. We’re just trying to tell you what’s been going on the last two, maybe three years."
"This is exactly why I left," I say quietly as heat builds behind my eyes.
Jasper runs a hand through his blond hair. "She has issues, and they’re not your fault. They’re not anyone’s fault."
