Jessalyn lived only a few blocks away from me, but I still drove in case things didn’t go well and I needed to go somewhere else to avoid my family. Unaware of any rift between us, her mom let me in when I got there and sent me upstairs.
Jessalyn’s room looked like it had been designed for a ten-year-old princess, which was exactly what she was to her parents—the princess part, anyway. Everything was pink and fluffy or pink and gauzy or pink and…pink. There was nothing that reflected the self-admitted tomboy who lived there, and it was Jessalyn’s favorite place in the world. She was particularly in love with the pink toile canopy surrounding her bed that was currently obscuring most of her body.
The door was open, but I still knocked on the door frame.
Jessalyn rolled onto her side, saw me, then returned to her stomach and the laptop she was using. She finished whatever she was typing, closed the laptop, then sat up and faced me. “Hey.”
Relief hit me at the way she said that word. I hadn’t been sure if she was still angry—I hadn’t been sure ifIwas still angry—but there wasn’t a trace of hostility in her voice.
“Hey back.” I didn’t flop onto her bed like I normally did. I claimed a corner, pushing the heavy canopy back so that I could sit. We didn’t say anything else. I felt like I had the grievance, but I knew she felt that way too. If we both weren’t so stubborn, we might have been able to talk it out. Instead we waited for the other to do the thing we couldn’t or wouldn’t do ourselves.
So I deflected.
“You didn’t tell me you were close to failing History. You know we don’t have a shot at making the finals if you get put on academic probation.”
Jessalyn’s back stiffened. “Who told you that?”
I wasn’t touching that question. I knew only because I’d lied to Dad about hanging out with her so that I could see Chase. “Is it true?”
“It’s a stupid report.” She flopped back on her bed with enough force to communicate her feelings perfectly. “Who cares about a bunch of kings who died half a millennium ago?”
“If it means the difference between you playing with us or not,youneed to. Come on, I’ll help you.” I reached for her laptop, but she covered the lid with her hand before I could open it.
“Is this really why you came over? Homework?”
I drew my hand back and broke eye contact. After a moment, I said, “No.”
“Okay, then, what? ’Cause last I checked, we were both pretty pissed at each other. And I know you talked to Nick and…it didn’t go great.”
I let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob.
“So are we fighting? What are we doing?”
“We’re not fighting,” I said. “We’re just…”
Jessalyn spun away from me and stood, taking her laptop and setting it on her dresser across the room. When she turned around and leaned her hands on the dresser, she just shrugged her shoulders. “Feels like fighting.”
“You want to fight?”
“No, I want to talk. I’ve wanted to talk for a long time. You’re the one who won’t tell me anything.”
“That’s because it’s awful! Everything!” A tear that I hadn’t even felt forming escaped from one eye. “My supposed grandfather, the one I was so excited about finding? Turns out he’s my brother. Yeah,” I said when Jessalyn’s jaw dropped open. “He was even more horrified by me than I was of him. He won’t talk to me or help me figure out how this could have happened. I mean, my parents… You know them… You know my dad… How…” I was drawing in each breath faster than the one before it. “I don’t understand, and I can’t tell anyone, because then they’d feel like this too…like I can’t breathe, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do and it hurts all the time and—” I finally choked off as Jessalyn wrapped both her arms around me.
“It’s okay. It’s okay.”
But it wasn’t. I didn’t know if it would ever be okay again.
* * *
I told Jessalyn everything. About Chase being Brandon’s cousin and his having no idea who I really was. I told her about the picture I’d stumbled upon and how I still didn’t know if my dad knew he had a son. She listened, but there wasn’t much she could do besides offer a shoulder to cry on, which she did—both of them. When she’d asked me what I was going to do, I could only shake my head. I left sometime before my eyes completely swelled shut from crying and after Jessalyn promised she’d let me know if she really did need help with her report.
Despite Jessalyn’s best efforts, I still felt too miserable to go home, so I drove past Jungle Juice instead, hoping Chase might be working and Brandon wouldn’t. I was wrong on both counts.
I parked out front and watched my brother through the windows, the lights inside making the interior visible against the dark outside. Ariel was working with him. Every time he thought she wasn’t looking, he was staring at her. It was almost pathetic the way he watched her, but the expression on his face—even from thirty feet away in the parking lot—was so nakedly adoring that I found myself smiling at his complete lack of girl game. Ariel knew he was staring—of course she did. He couldn’t see the small smiles on her lips each time she caught him and he looked away. I wanted to shake him and tell him to just ask her out already. If we’d grown up together like a real brother and sister, I would have. Selena would have helped. My chest tightened at that thought.
The three of us. Brother and sisters. Selena and I had a brother. Nothing else I found out about our parents would change that.
I’d never pined for a brother like some kids. It had never been an option. Mom’s pregnancy with me had been hard, and it was never a secret that she couldn’t have more kids after me. We’d always known Selena and I were it. But watching Brandon, I could imagine what it might have been like. Learning to ride bikes, hitting our first ball, catching our first fish. And then there were all the memories he would have been a part of: Christmases and birthdays and visits to Mexico and body surfing and learning to make Tía Magdalena’s refried beans and camping and road trips and playoffs and putting up posters when our dog, Slammer, ran away. I didn’t even realize I was crying until the first tear dripped onto my collarbone.
