Page 134
The problem is putting my eighteen-year-old brother in a bar beside a member of Atlas Falling. Somebody films it. The video reaches my parents before he’s finished his first drink, then lives online long enough to follow Drew into every college interview and job application he ever has.
So, I order him an Uber. Fast, before he can argue. The little car appears on the little map, four minutes away, and Drew looks at me like I’ve betrayed him.
“You’re sending me home?! In a fucking Uber.”
“In a nice Uber. Four point nine stars. His name’s Gerald.”
“I hate you.”
“Sure.”
“I genuinely, actually hate you. This could be the best night of my life, and you’re ending it because you’re boring and—”
“Drew, I’m not changing my mind.”
Drew hugs Luca goodbye and ignores me all the way to the porch.
Gerald pulls up at the sidewalk. Drew opens the rear door, then glances back at the house to make sure nobody else can hear him.
“Tonight was sick,” he says quietly. “Thanks for bringing me.”
I nod. “Anytime.”
“Still hate you.”
“Obviously.”
He gets into the car before the moment can become any more sincere.
Three seconds is about Drew’s upper limit.
When I return, everyone is pulling on coats.
I could go with them. Lose another hour inside a loud bar, let Luca draw the attention, keep my distance from Bea and call that self-control. Or I could stop pretending I haven’t spent the entire evening tracking her through every room.
She stopped drinking an hour ago. Switched to water. Rubbed the back of her neck twice while talking to Gianna. Looked at me whenever she thought I was distracted.
I noticed all of it. I’m done acting like I didn’t.
“You coming, Cal?” Sydney asks while fighting her way into one sleeve.
Before I answer, Ashley looks toward the kitchen. “Bea’s staying.”
Bea stands in the doorway holding a glass of water.
“I have an 8 a.m. TA gig,” she says. “Go have fun. And do not let Sydney near tequila.”
Sydney looks offended. “I have excellent judgment around tequila.”
“Last time you were talking to the Einstein poster for like, thirty minutes.”
“He looked lonely.” She pouts.
Gianna takes hold of Sydney’s shoulders and turns her toward the door. “I’ve got her.”
My gaze meets Bea’s.
“I might stay too,” I say.