Page 70 of The Other Brother
As arranged,Cody’s car is parked next to the curb outside school. Appleton gets off earlier than our school does. One of the many advantages of paying for an education rather than just taking what the government offers for free.
“Hey,” I say, opening the door.
“Hey,” Cody replies.
Somehow, those two simple words seem loaded with more meaning than a dictionary.
I jump into the front seat.
Cody’s in his Appleton uniform, his red and white striped tie askew where he must have tugged at it, his white shirtsleeves bunched up.
I didn’t realize the disheveled preppy look did it for me, but apparently it does, judging by the warm flush spreading through my body. I pull my gaze away from him and stare through the windshield where my classmates are all flowing from the school with the usual look of escaped prisoners on their face.
I spot some familiar faces in the crowd.
Shit. Harvey’s seen me. He scowls and says something to Oz, who looks in my direction.
I don’t have time to worry about that now as Cody’s pulling out into the traffic.
Some R&B track is playing on the speakers. I bend forward and fiddle with the volume, turning it up so it’s thumping through the car.
Cody immediately reaches over and turns it down a few notches.
“The only way you should listen to that R&B shit is at full volume,” I tell Cody.
“I want to be a musician, remember? Not damaging my hearing is quite important to me.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s all about Cody.”
“Don’t you forget that,” he says as he switches lanes so he can get to the off-ramp.
Memories of last night float back. Then, it was all about Cody for me.
But Cody says nothing even vaguely personal as we drive toward my house.
Should I say anything? I mean, we agreed to keep kissing last night. Does that make us boyfriends now? I assume it’s official. But you know what they say about the word assume.
I open my mouth, then hesitate. I’m not sure I have the right words to hammer out the details with him. The fine print will have to wait.
By the time we’ve gone by my house and his house to collect our surfboards and get changed then driven to the beach, most of the afternoon has drained away. It’s a weird time of year, still hot like summer, but the days are getting shorter, reminding me that summer doesn’t last forever.
When we finally make it onto the sand, Cody unveils his new surfboard from its bag.
I stare down at it, jealousy rising in me.
“You bought a JV?”
“Well, you said they were the best brand,” he says.
“Yeah, but they’re expensive.”
“I had some money left over from my last birthday.”
Cody’s birthday must be coming up soon. I know that because it’s two months before mine. It’s so typical Cody, that he’d still have money stashed away from eleven months ago. A wave of affection crashes over my jealousy, washing all traces away.
“Ready to test it out?” I ask.
“Sure.”
