Page 4 of Nine-Tenths

"Who's Caden?" Stu asks. My himbo brother likes gossip just as much as his twin.

"Breach of confidence!" I snarl at Gem.

"There was no NDA," Gem says through her own knife-slice grin.

"Who's Caden?" Stu asks again, amused.

"He's no one," I insist.

Gem scoffs. "That's not what you—"

"He's no onenow," I amend, fiddling with my glass, watching my ice cube melt and wishing I hadn't drunk it all in one go. I always feel like a jerk if I get up and refill before everyone else has finished. I'm not, like, an alcoholic, but I don't want my familythinkingI am one. They already watch me like a time-bomb when it comes to mental-health shit.

"Oh," Stu says, catching what I mean.

"You’ll just have to try harder next time," Mum says. It's meant to be pleasant and understanding, but I literally grind my teeth together so hard Gem shoots me a startled look. "I don't know what I've done wrong, that you can'tkeepa partner,mo leanbh."

"Gem and Stu are single right now too, Mum, it's not like—"

"Just remember what Dr. Chen said about needing stability, Colin. It's not good to jump from relationship to relationship like this."

That's skirting dangerously close to calling me a 'greedy bisexual,’I think, but don't say, because that's not a conversation I feel like having right now.

"Cut Colin some slack," Gem says gently.

"I just don't know why Rebekah couldn't come up with you," Mum says, wringing her hands. "She was such a nice girl, and you were going to get—"

"You said you weren't going to bring that up," Stu stops her.

My stomach bottoms out, and I shove away from the table.

"Just forget I said anything, okay?" Mum says. She pats my shoulder lovingly, and leaves to go turn on the TV. I hate when she does that. Can't argue at her back, ‘cause she can't read your lips that way. Mum keeps her hearing aids turned down so shecan't hear anyone or anything that isn't directly in front of her. It always bugged her when we screamed across the house.

The TV flicks on, the channel flips, and Stu stands up to peer into the living room when it stops on a program with someone singing in that high, signature ‘70s tone we are all very familiar with.

"Mum's watching Lawrence Welk reruns again," Stuart says accusingly as Gem starts to tidy up.

"Rebekah broke up withme," I remind them.

"We know," Gem says. "Stu, when were you planning to leave?"

"Might as well be right now," Stu grunts. Then he comes around the table and wraps me up in a bear hug that has me dangling a few inches from the floor. "Have a good trip back tomorrow."

"Thanks," I wheeze, nose smooshed.

He sets me down and slaps my shoulder in a manly, hetero way. "Happy birthday."

"Just one year away from my quarter-life crisis. I'm thrilled."

"Will you have figured out what to do with your fancy degree by then?"

"Har har."

"Oh!" Gem says, and turns away to rifle the junk drawer. She sifts through archeological layers of take-out menus, dried up pens, and loose Canadian Tire money. She emerges with a rumpled, used-to-be-white envelope. "This came for you. Like, last year."

"Why didn't you forward it?"

"I'm not your secretary."

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