“What’s your degree in?”
“Political science… Thought one day I’d go into politics.”
“Not anymore?”
Mason shakes his head firmly, which he does quite often. At least in my presence. My phone buzzes to indicate class will be starting in fifteen minutes, breaking the moment. Shit, it’s at least a ten-minute walk. I gulp down the rest of my coffee and stand quickly, sending an apologetic smile to Mason.
“Gotta get to class. Maybe… I could stop by tomorrow too? I can bring coffee?”
“Oh no,” Mason rushes, furious blush returning. “I like to make my own coffee. I have different flavored beans… Do you like caramel?”
My smile actually hurts to contain. “I love caramel.”
Mason’s answering grin could rival Christmas morning. I back away toward the door, grinning at him, not turning around until the last moment. It’s cold outside still, and I don’t know why I expected it to warm up after only a few minutes inside with Mason. I end up jogging the rest of the way to class to make sure I’m there early enough to grab a seat toward the front. The jerks who are taking this course for an easy A can sit in the back, but I want to take notes and get the most out of the class. College never seemed like much of an option unless I got a million scholarships, but when Mom died, Jacob and I were pleasantly surprised she’d somehow managed a life insurance policy for both of us. Having that money, combined with the stipend from Robin, plus paid living expenses, means college isn’t the noose around my neck I’d once thought it would be.
Going on for my master’s might be a little more difficult, but I’ll make do. I always do.
Jacob’s waiting outside for me after class, per usual. We’re fraternal twins, so it’s never felt like looking in a mirror. Jacob’s eyes are a softer shade of green, and he spends more time in the gym, so his shoulders are broader, muscles bigger. I’m built like a swimmer, where Jacob is built like a quarterback. But when someone looks at us, it’s probably difficult to tell us apart, unless they know us. I have three moles on my abdomen, whereas Jacob has none. Also, I wasn’t sure Jacob could read until the past few years, so there’s that.
“I gotta go to the store on the way home,” Jacob complains without any real bite. “Dante said we could figure ourselves out.” Jacob puts very obnoxious air quotes around his words. I think we’d all gotten used to the status quo of Dante being the house den mom in a lot of ways, but lately Dante—or maybe it’s Reid’s influence—has been putting a little bit more effort into making us all grow up. It’s justeasierto let Dante do our laundry and clean the house, not because we take him for granted, but because we all know it’s one of the few ways he shows his love. He might stop going to the store, but he still does everything else, even if Reid wants to put a stop to it.
“I’m going to make pork tenderloin,” Jacob says.
“Fancy. With mashed potatoes?”
“No, roasted potatoes, the little fingerling ones because Hayden will eat those.”
I hum in acceptance. “He’s pickier than a toddler.”
Jacob shrugs. “He likes starches, comfort foods.”
“Are there still brownies from last night?”
“Yes,” Jacob says, nose wrinkling in annoyance. “Unless Reid pilfered them all while we were in class.”
“You know Dante hides food over the fridge, right?”
Jacob pauses on the sidewalk, eyes wide with rage. “What?”
“Yeah, same. He hides the sour cream and onion chips over the fridge.”
“That bastard!” Jacob swears, fury radiating off him. I bite back a grin, because although I don’t like drama myself, I do like stirring it up amongst my roommates from time to time. Jacob and I were thirteen when Mom was diagnosed with cancer. She worked as a nurse our whole lives, never made enough money, and cancer wouldn’t have been a death sentence had she had the time to get the care she deserved. Maybe that made Jacob and I easy targets for Robin, who knows, but the idea of someone suffering like our mom did could keep me up at night. Actually, it does keep me up at night sometimes.
Jacob turns left instead of going straight to head home, and I follow along with him, just happy to be spending time with him. Most days we’re both caught up in either our studies or a mission. He rambles on about one of his labs, and I try to follow along, but that’s the main difference between the two of us. I have a brain perfectly suited for an English literature degree, whereas Jacob is perfectly suited for the biological sciences degree he’s getting so he can go on to get a PhD in food sciences. Some sort of food engineer… I’m not sure I really grasp what it is he plans to do.
“Can you grab the butter that I like?” Jacob asks before we split ways to gather food quicker.
I take the shortcut down the cereal aisle to get to the dairy. I rapidly scan the rows before landing on the butterJacob prefers and somehow goes through at an alarming rate. Once I’ve grabbed said butter, I find my twin in the vegetable aisle, combing through the potatoes to make sure none of them have cracks because that will rule Hayden out from eating them. I dump the butter into the basket looped on his arm, peeking in to find a carton of ice cream that’s undoubtedly for Hayden. Hmmm.
We’re quiet as we finish up at the store, using the lone cashier instead of the self-checkout aisle. She seems pleased to finally have a human to help, so we make conversation as we pack everything into a brown bag ourselves.
“Hayden was hunched over his computer when I left for class this afternoon, so maybe we’ll have another mission.” Jacob takes a bite out of the shiny red apple he bought, then passes it to me for a bite. “Getting bored waiting.”
We pass the apple back and forth until just the core is left, then Jacob tosses it into the bag so he can throw it into the composter at home.
“Hayden seems less riled up all the time with Reid around.”
“They’re both little shits,” Jacob mumbles, voice oddly fond.
