I slouch with a sigh. "It was uneventful, but the taxi guy said I have a natural smile.”
“Why the hell was he looking at your smile?”
“I asked him to.”
His brows furrow. “What the fuck does that mean? I’m going to need context, Blesk. Whose legs do I need to break?”
I stare at him, my heart skipping in wariness. “No, it’s not— I…”Ugh.“Oh, my God, Erik, what does your therapist do for a living? You haven’t changed.”
He smirks. "So you missed me then?"
"I was miserable without you," I mumble, rolling my eyes. Then I grin at him, glancing his way. "So it was just like having you at home."
"Oh, very funny." He clears his throat, looking almost disappointed by my joke. "Is Dad good?"
"Yeah, he's fine. You know, if I’d seen this library earlier, I would have demanded Dad let me visit you. Have you been in here before?”
"Oh no, never, Bebe. Not once in the nearly six years I've been going here have I stepped foot inside this place.”
I know he’s joking, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it was true. My brother excels academically and in life with little effort on his part.
“Don’t call me Bebe,” I say, lifting my chin.“Andsarcasm is the weakest form of humour.”
"It's also the most popular."
"I admire how you don’t let your huge brain get in the way of doing absolutely nothing impressive.”
Erik erupts into laughter. “Well, I suppose I'm lucky girls don't care about my huge brain. Ain't that right?"
"Well, maybe they would care if you act?—"
He mock-snores. "And now I'm bored. Tell me about home. Is your room still the same?”
I grab the hem of my skirt and pick at the seam. There is nothing there to pick… “It’s the same,” I say quickly to my perfectly sewn hemline. “Can you take me to orientation?”What the?I never voluntarily leave a library.
I glance at him.
“We could stay.” He looks up at the stacks ahead of us. “I’ll cancel my morning. And I’ll whisper to you. I swear I won’t disturb a single bookworm in here.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Erik.”His name comes out half-plea, half-warning. “If I don’t go now. I may never go.”
“An hour. Just sit here with me. I want to look at you. In my world. You look shorter.”
“Makeme go.” I twist in place to look at him, and he’s already looking at me. He seems a little different—still blond, still strong-jawed, still wide and hard across the shoulders. Still handsome. That’s undeniable, not subjective at all, even Dad says he’s a handsome man. It has been nearly a year since I’ve seen him—since he last visited the District and Dad and me—though we video chat weekly. “You know I’ll end up only having you if I don’t try.Please,make me try to be a little more social? I’m away from the District. I’m safe. And you don’t need to pretend to support Dad in keeping me at home because he isn’t here. I’m counting on you.” Part of me wants to sink deeper into the beanbag, hide in the stacks, which is exactly why I need to do this now. “I told myself I would make friends and be social… for once.”
He pauses, his gaze losing focus on a thought that isn’t for me. “Since when do you want to be social?”
“Since now.” I nudge him with my shoulder, ignoring the nerves simmering inside me. “Come with me. Show me around. Be the God of the campus, or whatever it is you do.”
His mouth forms a tight line. “Fine.” He exhales, rises to his full height, and offers me his hand.
“Just like that?” I hesitate, suddenly unsure if I’ve made the right choice, because… look at the pretty books and the lack of people and our snug little beanbags.
He looks at his outstretched hand. “Just like that.”
I place my palm in his, and he pulls me to my feet in one smooth motion, and we are briefly closer than necessary and then we are not. He keeps hold of my hand a beat after I’m upright, and my breath catches. His thumb moves once across my knuckles, and it feels as it always has—like I’m underwater, where there is no noise or danger or anyone else?—
A memory comes back suddenly…