Page 315 of Mad Girl

“This one can’t. Not ever. It’s too important.”

“Jesus, Elliot. I can make new friends. This one guy, I can live without.”

“What’s wrong with you? A month ago, you hated how distant he was being, and now you’re throwing in the towel? Like he means nothing to you?”

“He’s just some guy I randomly met through Sienna a couple of years ago. We had a good run, but it’s over now.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s. Over. If he’s proven anything, it’s that he doesn’t give a shit about me, either. So it’s done. I’m done with him.”

“No! He does care about you! It’s not that simple!”

“It is that simple. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?”

“Because you’re being stupid!”

“More stupid than you letting some random guy come between us? Letting some random guy ruin this? A lifetime of friendship? Why are you letting him do that, Elliot? What makes him so fucking special?”

“Because he isn’t some random guy, Michael! He’s your brother!”

I clapped both hands over my mouth, my eyes flung open wide and stinging with tears.

Michael cocked his head to the side, caught off guard by the outburst. “My what?”

My heart slammed against my ribcage. Ohshitohshitohshit, I thought. What have I done?

“Nothing,” I said, dropping my hands. Maybe I could take it back. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

Oh my God. What the hell had I done?

“You said Casey’s my brother.” Michael’s eyes narrowed as he searched my face.

“No, I didn’t.” Maybe if I played it super cool and slipped my hands underneath the scarf in my lap, he wouldn’t notice how badly they were shaking.

“Yes,” Michael said, drawing the word out, “you did. Why would you say that?”

He waited. And waited. And kept waiting, never taking his eyes off me. Sweat trickled down the small of my back.

“Because,” I said quietly, pausing to clear my throat. No use denying it now. He wouldn’t let me leave that apartment without an explanation—or, worse, he’d follow me to the house and demand one there. In front of you. “He is your brother. He’s been trying to tell you for over a year now.”

Michael leaned back, a small laugh huffing out of him. “Casey’s not my brother.”

I nodded. “He is your brother. You’re half-siblings.”

Michael gave me this look that said, You’re joking, right? “Elliot, I know you like to fuck with people, but come on. This is too far—even for you.”

Pressing my lips together, I took a deep breath. “He’s your brother.”

“Stop saying that,” said Michael.

“It’s true. You have the same dad.”

“No.” Michael shook his head. “No way my dad got two girls pregnant in college.”

I winced. “Except—um—he did, actually.”

“No. Not possible. Casey’s from England. He grew up there. In case you haven’t noticed, he has a fucking accent.”