“Kes! Jarrow! Diego!”
As Dad runs through the drill, my mom hands Lane a glass of water. He sips at it, looking at me over the rim.
Jarrow comes flying through the room on his skateboard, and Mom catches him by the ear.
“Not in the house! Say hello to our guest.”
“Hello, guest!”
He holds out a fist for Lane to bump.
“And this here is Kesley.”
“You got a tattoo?” Kesley stares at Lane.
“Nope.”
“Not cool.”
“But he saw Anti-Flag,” Jeff yells over from the couch. “Live!”
“Very cool!”
I tap Lane’s forearm reassuringly.
“How many are there?” he whispers, pressing the empty glass to his lips.
“Just one more to go.”
Diego steps into the room, console in hand.
“Lane, meet our resident geek. Geekazoid, meet Lane.”
My brother holds out a hand. “You can call me Diego.”
The boys throw themselves onto the couches, and I already know what Lane is thinking—Jeff isn’t the only one who was adopted. Allfive of us look completely different. I’m the only biological child, not that it’s ever mattered to any of us.
My mom peers at her watch. “Oh Lord, it’s past four! Honey, go show your friend to his room, and then come help me in the kitchen while the boys clean the barbecue.”
I jerk my head at Lane to follow.
Halfway up the stairs, he grabs my wrist. “Are you adopted, too?”
“No. I was two when we adopted Jeff. Four when we adopted Jarrow, and five for Diego and Kes.”
“So you’re the eldest?”
“Yeah. Jeff was a baby when he came to us, Jarrow, Diego, and Kes were about one. I thought I told you?”
“I’m starting to realize I don’t know much about you at all.” Lane is looking at me like we just met.
I turn back to the stairs and lead him across the landing, pointing out the rooms as we go.
“This is my room—that’s my bathroom. I recommend you use that one and not my brothers’.”
“Got it.”
We arrive at the last room along the hallway. “And here’s your very own little room. It was my grandpa’s. He died last year,” I add.
