Page 37 of Bring You Back

“The mother that I know wouldn’t have lied to me about my father.”

Another look darkens her face. “Brent is your father.”

Then where. is. he?I see flashes of him from this morning on the boardwalk with Tiffany.

“I’m not his blood.”

“That never mattered—”

“It matters to him now!” I follow her stare to the cupboard door and realize I’m still gripping the handle, my knuckles white and aching. The skin from where I nicked the wood in her bedroom door has opened, the splinter gone. I loosen my hold and my hand drops to my side.

Mom’s eyes study me with a mix of concern and sympathy. “He still loves you.”

“Yeah,” I scoff. “He just has a real son to worry about now.”

Mom shrugs, trying for a smile. “It could be a girl.” Her attempt at lightening the mood also makes me try for a smile. Too bad we both fail.

She wipes her hands off on a towel before draping it over the edge of the sink, saying, “She’s staying as long as she needs to.” She leaves my side, retreating back to her hideaway.

“Okay, hear me out.”

I jump out of my skin at the sound of Banks’s voice, a reminder that I’m no longer used to his random pop ups.

“I need you, too,” he says.

Fuck.He heard every bit of that.

I face him, leaning against the counter, my expression as neutral as possible. “You need my house.”

He waves that off. “Dude, you know I can’t function without you.” He walks past the island and rummages through the fridge, and here I am, laughing.

I’m seeking normalcy so much that I’m living tilted, leaning on things I shouldn’t just to stay standing. Banks isn’t normal anymore, either, but he still manages to make me laugh, to make my gut ache in agoodway, and I could use more of that.

“See?” He’s pointing at my smiling face with a smug grin, slices of my mom’s turkey dangling from his hand.

I drop the smile. “See what?”

He drops his and shuts the fridge. “You need me, too. Just admit it.”

“No.”

“Admit you missed me, then.”

I fold my arms across my chest with another smile. “Okay.” I drop the smile again just as another one stretches his mouth. “No.”

He frowns and flings a turkey slice into his mouth, talking as he chews. “Whatever. Tonight. You. Me. The dunes.”

A reflexive groan works its way up my throat. Like it has the other summers Banks has brought up attending this yearly graduation party. It’s this huge thing in our town that kicks off the summer for the freshly graduated seniors. Now that’s us.

Theactualparty takes place out on the open sand and involves a family-friendly movie with all the popcorn, hotdogs, candy, and other processed shit you can eat, followed by a live concert. Everyone can attend, not just the graduated class. The version of the party Banks is referring to involves bonfires and booze for the people who are more into the not-so-family-friendly fun, just beyond the sand dunes.

I study Banks as he tears strips of the turkey before eating them, honestly still surprised that he graduated. He’s always done the bare minimum to get by. I just hope he knows he can’tbareit in the real world.

I laugh to myself, because who am I kidding.

“Count me in.”

I lock eyes with Camille as she appears from the hall and leans against the fridge, blocking Banks right as he tries to dive back in for more food, even though he still has some left in his hand. I tell myself not to smile. She waves her phone around as if I’m supposed to know what the hell that means, while her eyes dare me to accept or argue her assertion. There’s residual anger in her system from our earlier conversation, too.

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