For a moment, I’m scared for my wig, but the air just whips through it. I can’t take my eyes away from the road to look at him, but he kisses my neck, adding to the adrenaline. He nibbles and sucks, causing my breath to race even more. I start to close my eyes, and that’s when I know I need to pull over.
As soon as the car stops, I grab his shirt with both hands and smash our mouths together. Getting as close as I can, my nails dig into the back of his neck, keeping him there. I don’t let go until it’s clear we both need to catch our breath.
“Want to try that in reverse?” he asks.
I throw my head back against the seat before closing my eyes and nodding. It isn’t too much later when I’m speeding backwards, trying to keep the car straight.
Once we are back in the city, we stop for food.
“You coming back over after?” he asks.
“I just left,” I say, throwing a fry at him. “Plus, don’t you ever work?”
“When I’m not with you.” He tosses one back at me. I catch it in my mouth, having practiced since our last food fight.
“Two businesses, and you still have your own work schedule. You must be rich or something.”
“I do well for myself, but I give a lot of money to my siblings. Why? You want me to take care of you?”
“You can pay for my upkeep,” I say, flashing him my grown-out nails.
“Easy, text me how much and I’ll send it to you monthly.”
I try not to be impressed by him again, but he never ceases to amaze me.
“When is your next chemo appointment?”
“Next week, and yes, you can come with me.” I don’t know why I have been fighting it up until this point. I have wanted him to come, he has wanted to come, and it’s his arms I always find myself in after it’s over.
We coordinate the day, and then soon we are splitting an apple pie slice. The only thing I haven’t lost is my appetite, and I was prepared to smoke some weed to get it back.
“You toke?” I ask him.
“On occasion.”
One smile later, and I find myself back at his place with my legs resting on his. We pass the joint back and forth while laughing at everything and nothing at all.
“Finn once hit me with a pan when he was in charge of us. It was so hard that I had the logo imprinted on my cheek. Ma came home, and he tried to say I fell asleep on it.”
“Every time you talk about your siblings, I’m so happy that I don’t have any.”
“You think that’s bad? I once used Rowan as a sled down the hill. She was so chunky, I was sure she was going to be fine. She was not.” He laughs so hard he chokes.
The fact that he finds that story funny has me staring at him.
“It honestly sounds like you guys were constantly trying to kill each other.”
“That’s just what it is to grow up with siblings. It’s a love-hate thing. You grew up with Farrah, you don’t have any stories like that?”
I grab the chip bag from the floor and munch on two large handfuls before I answer.
“We were in the same dance studio, but went to different schools, so it was only on weekends that we could hang out. The worst she ever did was paint me black. I told her I wanted to be darker like her, so that was her solution.” I giggle. “I looked like I was trying to do Black face. My dad screamed when he saw me. He thought I was a demon.”
I hand him the chips, and he just tilts his head back and dumps them into his mouth.
“Oh yeah, and I always stole her clothes and got stains on them.” I rub my cheesy hand on my shirt, showing him exactly how.
“That’s definitely sibling behavior.”
