Brett: you’re good at pretending to be dumb and don’t care
Brett: but I know you do
Brett: figureyour shit out, Romeo
Brett: you guys are inevitable. You know it
Brett: I know it
I stare at the screen. The little gray “…” bubble pops up like he’s got more to say.
But nothing more comes through.
Silence.
Across the room, he rolls over and mutters, “G’night, idiot.”
I swallow hard and tuck the phone under my pillow.
Kit shifts in his bed, just a little. A half-breath. I watch the slow rise and fall of the blanket where his shoulders are, just visible in the dark.
I wonder if he read something in my eyes today. I wonder when it got this complicated.
Kit’s still asleep when I wake up. Curled in a tight ball on his bunk, Red tucked under his arm, barely a dent in the mattress. His hair is a mess of honey brown waves across his forehead, and his shoulders look so small under the thin blanket. He never takes up much space.
I want to climb in with him like I used to. See if he would still curl into me like he always did.
Instead, I get dressed as quietly as I can, skipping the creaky plank near the foot of the bunk, and pretend like I don’t want to analyze why I want to be close to him and what that means now.
The sun isn’t even out yet, but I know Brett’s already awake. I can feel it in my bones. Mom always says it's our twin magic.
Sure enough, by the time I make it to the kitchen, my phone buzzes.
Brett: lets talk about the sunscreen thing yesterday
Brett: you practically went running for him as soon as he walked outside
Brett: you realize you’re dating Delaney, right?
Brett: she left red as a lobster, bro
Brett: LOL
Brett: guess not everyone gets the sunscreen treatment
Brett: just your kitten baby
I sigh and pour a bowl of cereal.
Buzz.
Brett: gonna rub Tuckers shoulders down with lotion later?
Brett: he looked a bit dry
Brett: since that's what you do for your friends
Another sigh.
