Page 21 of Only You

“But he’s your brother. I get it.” I was an only child, but I understood the concept of sibling loyalty.

“Exactly, shithead. So, go on and get out of here. I’m not your friend.”

I nodded.

He was right. We’d never been friends, but it still hurt to walk away from him.

I managed to get all the way to the top of the stairs before I whirled around and aimed my camera. It was a quick shot, but Mo was right in the middle of it. Now I had something to remember him by. As if I could ever forget Mo in all his angry glory.

I got myself together, shaking off the discomfort and renewed ache, as I rode the McClung Tower elevator up to my dad’s office. Walking into his familiar, messy, paper-filled room was a relief. Here was something that hadn’t changed even a little in my entire life. I might’ve been with Adam a week ago and been at Daniel’s house just yesterday, but my dad’s office still smelled like dust and old paper. Even Elvis Costello’sMy Aim Is Truewas playing from his small tape player just like it often had when I was a kid.

“Ah, Petey-boy,” Dad said, swiveling around in his chair and plopping two bagged lunches onto his desk. He was framed by the light from the window. I snapped a photo. He took a closer look at me. “What’s up? English Literature got you down?”

“It’s never been my best subject.”

“But it’s not your worst either.”

“Adam and Dr. Landry taught me how to put together a paper, yeah.” I conceded as I approached the chair across from him. “But no, it’s not that. I don’t even have English until tomorrow.”

“How has your day gone?”

“Pretty well.” I told him about how my day had gone as I put my camera in my backpack, and then opened my bag lunch to find a PB&J Dad had made for me, a small bag of chips, and some baby carrots. “So, if I can convince her with my portfolio that I’m worthy, she’ll move me up to the next level.”

“I have no doubt Marta will find you worthy.”

“As for Biology, I hope the drop-add office accepts my request, because I can’t take a whole semester of that nose whistle,” I finished up, popping the straw into the Capri-Sun Dad handed me.

“Here’s to a nose that sings praises to the Lord,” Dad said, toasting his PB&J against mine.

I laughed as we took our first bites.

Chewing, Dad looked thoughtful, and I understood why when he said, “Since you brought him up earlier…”

Oh no.

“I’ve been meaning to ask about what happened with Adam.”

“The inevitable.”

“Your mother said he hurt you.”

I held up my arm so he could see my still-bruised wrist. Of course, he hadn’t noticed it yet. He was always too wrapped up in work and the saints and Mary Magdalene and everything else to pay too much attention.

“He did that?”

I nodded, sucking up more Capri-Sun.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

Dad frowned, and I knew the interrogation wasn’t over when he switched tacks. “Okay, then how about we talk about this new boy your mother mentioned? What’s his name again?”

“Daniel.”

“The dust hasn’t even settled from your breakup with Adam. He called the house all day yesterday.”

“It’s over with Adam.”

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