Page 53 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
I turn my attention back to my phone and focus on sending a fully correct text so I don’t start thinking too hard about Jordan’s hands on my skin.
Hou: That only works in theater, Mic. I don’t particularly want to break my leg tonight.
Micah: You know what I meant!
Me: Be nice, Hou. You’re lucky she remembered you have a game tonight in the first place.
Hou: She’s the only one.
I don’t like that he doesn’t think I’ll be watching tonight. And okay, I probably wouldn’t have if I hadn’t spent the weekend with Jordan, but still. Am I really that bad of a sister that my twin brother doesn’t expect my support on one of the biggest nights of his life?
“There’s a face,” Jordan says as he lifts my foot to sit beneath it.
I should keep my fears to myself, but something about Jordan’s expression drags it out of me. “Do you think I’m a bad sister for not watching all of Houston’s games?”
His eyebrows shoot up, and he glances at my phone as if he knows there’s something there that sparked this fear. “Of course not. Houston knows you don’t like baseball.”
“Houston doesn’t like science, but he still helped me proof my papers in college before he signed with the Red-tails.”
I feel like the text conversation is waiting on me, so I send the only thing I can think of that has nothing to do with me.
Me: Chad will probably watch it.
“Want to talk about it?” Jordan asks.
Not really. Besides, my siblings keep texting.
Micah: Unless he’s too busy falling in love!
What in the world is that supposed to mean? Chad mentioned the other day that he was heading to Laketown, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t to get himself a girlfriend. He only broke up with Mercedes six months ago after dating her for several years, and my oldest brother isn’t one to jump into something quickly. He takes things slowly, and he wouldn’t settle in a tiny town like Laketown, which is where Micah’s dad does our annual family reunions.
Unless Micah knows something I don’t?
Me: Twice that he’ll of
Well that’s just ridiculous, and I curse autocorrect and go for the delete button. Only, my thumb hits the send button instead, and I groan at my stupid phone. “Stupid send button,” I growl, taking extra care with my next couple of texts.
Me: Oops.
Me: I meant to say falling in love with who?
Hou: How do you even mess up that bad?
I can practically see his face, looking at me like he can’t believe we came from the womb at the same time.
Hou: And you guys need to stop distracting me. My game starts in like an hour.
I glance at the time. If the game isn’t for an hour, why did Jordan show up so early? And then I remember that Jordan is sitting there waiting for me to respond to him because I never actually said anything when he asked if I wanted to talk about it.
“Why are you here?” I clap a hand to my face. “That’s not what I meant. I meant why are you here so early?”
Jordan raises an eyebrow. “What was your plan for dinner?”
“Um.” I glance at my closed pantry, which is just as stocked as it was yesterday. Jordan and I went grocery shopping last night, but that doesn’t mean I was ever planning to cook any of it because I don’t know how. And maybe he spoiled me by cooking for me all weekend. “Probably a frozen pizza or something?”
He smirks. “That’s why I’m here early. But first.” His warm hands wrap around my ankle, and instantly half the pain goes away. He hasn’t even started his massage yet. It’s like my body knows what’s coming so it’s relaxing preemptively.
I glance down at my phone as Micah texts again.
