He tilts his head, studying me. “He’s literally your twin.”
“Unfortunately,” I sigh.
I get up to rinse my bowl just to escape the moment, but Brett won’t give it up.
Brett: bet you won’t kiss him rn
Brett: PUSSY
My chest is on fire. I shove my phone in my back pocket, pretending I didn’t see the text even though I shoot him a glare that has him laughing.
I finish rinsing my bowl. When I turn Kit is there, I move one way to free up the sink for him…he moves the same way. I move the other, and so does he. His cheeks are turning redder by the second, so I hold him still to get out of the way. I’m about to high tail it out of there, but before I can escape, Brett yells, “Ooooooh, getting handsy in the kitchen!”
Kit
Age 16
Every single one of them has their phone in their hands. Tucker is probably flirting with half the girls in his class on Snap. Brett is more than likely scrolling Instagram, liking all the same girl's photos, and Bowen…
Judging by the scowl on his face, he’s fighting with Delaney again. They fight more than they don’t, and no matter how many times Tucker or Brett tells him to break up with her already, he won’t. They’re addicted to the toxicity at this point. Blinded by the fragile promise of young love. Stuck in the idea that the most popular guy should be with the most popular girl. Tale as old as time.
I’ve already seen everything there is to see on social media. Everyone’s summer vacation pictures, the heavily filtered poolside selfies. The endless amount of inspiring, deep quotes posted by the same girls who make fun of everyone that they deem below them in real life. I don’t know why I evenhave social media, honestly. I hate everything about it. But if I delete it, I’ll be even more socially distanced than I already am.
Brett sighs and slaps his phone down on his desk. Tucker looks up at him, where he’s perched on the end of the worn brown leather couch, but then his phone beeps, and he looks right back down at it.
“I can’t believe junior year starts tomorrow.” He stretches his arms above his head and gives me a little smile where I’m lying down in the middle of the floor. The shaggy rust colored carpet in their attic hangout is past being outdated and straight into vintage territory. I don’t even want to think about how gross it actually is because it’s so soft.
“Another year of hell. How fun,” I murmur.
He snickers and falls out of the chair on his hands and knees so he can crawl over to me. He sprawls out with a sigh. “Don’t think about it like that, Kat-boy. We still have two more years to get into mischief together.”
“Oh yeah? What do you have in mind? Maybe show up fifteen minutes late to class on Wednesdays? Or, ooo, maybe we can sign up for all the after-school clubs, but then never show up?” I ask sarcastically and laugh when he tickles my side.
“I was thinking maybe we could—”
“If you say some shit about dating my brother, I’m going to have to toss you out the window,” Tucker says without looking up from his phone. Bowen snorts.
Brett’s smile is dazzling. It’s no surprise that the girls love him. “Sorry to inform you, Tucker, but I’ll be marrying your brother when we’re thirty and alone. Otherwise, he’ll turn into a book hoarder, and I’ll turn into a crazy cat man. This way, I’ll just have my Kat, and I’ll show him what real romance is. We can create some really cute babies to keep my lineage going. God knows Bowen won’t ever settle down.”
I choke on my spit and sit up. “You never said anything about babies.” He’s been telling me we’ll get married when we’re thirty for years. I don’tknow if it's to make me feel better about none of the boys ever liking me, or if it's his way of having a backup plan for both of us because I won’t find anyone by then, and he’s too damn picky. I should be insulted, honestly, but it’s so cute, I can’t even be mad.
“Yep, babies. I can’t put babies in you, but a surrogate works. Maybe we’ll get lucky and have a set of twins. They’ll have your little button nose. I was thinking of C names. You’ll be the absolute best dad. Or do you want to be Daddy, and I’ll be Dad? Or Papa? How does the gay dad thing work?”
I stare at him, dumbfounded.
He laughs, and the sound is so much deeper than it used to be. “Oh yeah, Kit. We’re having babies. We can practice the old-fashioned way still, right?” He wiggles his black eyebrows at me, and I wrinkle my nose at him.
“You’re not putting your dick anywhere near my baby brother, dude.”
“I’d have to agree with Tucker,” Bowen says, and I shoot him a surprised look but he’s still looking at his phone, his frown even deeper than it was a few minutes ago.
Brett clutches his chest, rolling his head to the side to look at the two guys who just cockblocked his dicks hypothetical future escapades. “I’m hurt. You’d rather our precious Kit end up with some random loser than me?Me?Who has loved him for sixteen years?” I snort at his high-pitched voice and dramatics.
I know Brett loves me. We say it to each other all the time. But I’ve never deluded myself into thinking it was anything more than what it is. My absolute best friend. My soul mate, but in a totally non-romantic way. Not that the idea hasn’t crossed my mind a few times, but I quickly shut it down. I don’t feel that way about him, just my confusing hormones sometimes think about it. The only guy that I have ever liked just happens to share the same face. Well, it's mostly the same. But the souls are different, and Brett’s is mine in a friendship way. I will always want him, but I don’t want to have sex with him. That would be so wrong.
“I’ll risk the hoarding problem,” I tease, falling back to the soft carpet.
He turns his blue eyes to me, alight with humor. “Never, Kat. I’ll be the best husband.” Then he rolls and pounces, blowing a giant raspberry on my cheek until I’m kicking and screaming with laughter, shoving at him with my hands.
