“No big deal.” He gives his goofy grin, the one that makes him look fifteen.
“No. Carter.” I look at him. The neon paints half his face rose-pink and the other half deep blue. His smoky-amethyst eyes are bright in the colored light, and the grin is still there.
I hug him.
His body stiffens because this is the first time we’ve ever hugged. Then his arms come around me. He smells like cheap cologne and laundry detergent.
I think I’ll miss that smell.
“You were always a great cousin,” I say into his shoulder. “Thanks.”
He pulls back and the grin has softened. His eyes move across my face and for half a second I think he sees the decision I’ve made. But then the grin returns and he claps my shoulder with his open palm.
“You’re a great brother,” he says.
Brother.
I turn away because my face is about to betray me by looking weak. My eyes are already wet and I need to move before the hurt inside me comes pouring out.
“Bathroom,” I say over my shoulder.
“Kay,” Carter says, turning back to his group.
I weave between neon-painted bodies, not looking back. The decision has been made.
Instead of heading toward the bathroom, I head toward the kitchen. I’m almost to the kitchen hallway when someone grabs my arm.
I turn and find Dorien standing there, tall and dark-clothed against the pink-and-blue wash of the party. His coppery eyes catch the neon and throw it back warmer.
“Hey,” he says.
“Thought you couldn’t make it. That’s what Carter told me.”
He runs a hand through his hair, messing it further. “Yeah, I’ve been fighting deadlines, but my brain turned to mush. Needed a break.”
He’s standing with an easy posture, one hand in his pocket, but his eyes keep going back-and-forth across my face like he’s reading from a book.
“Cool,” I say, stepping back.
He fills the silence. “How are classes going?”
“Good.”
He nods and I nod. I can’t stop thinking about why he’s here. Carter said Dorien couldn’t come. Yet he’s here. June knew Carter was taking me to this party. June and Dorien are together.
(Ah, I get it.)
She sent him to babysit me.
My sister sent her boyfriend to keep tabs. Because that’s what she does. She arranges the pieces. She controls the gameboard. She never gives me space to be who I want to be.
(You win, big sis. You’ve always been the winner.)
To test my theory about why Dorien is here, I reach into my jacket pocket then hold up the joint. “Got a light?”
Dorien’s eyes drop to it and his mouth tightens. “Uh. We don’t need to smoke right now.”
I shrug and start to turn toward a guy leaning against the wall with a lighter visible in his hand.
