Page 15 of Burn Bright
“I thought it was just being born fromtheRose Calloway and Connor Cobalt.”
“The mother and father of gods,” he hollers like he’s in a stadium announcing their entrance.
I smile, but it’s harder to hold these days. “I’m not displacing you, man. I can’t.”
“We don’t mind. Tom and I willingly shared a room ninth through tenth grade.”
“You’re not in high school anymore.”
“Ah, but to some, I have Peter Pan syndrome. So in certain eyes, I will never grow up.” He opens his hand with this reasoning. “So what say you?”
“I sayI can’t.”
He tosses the empty box aside, then clutches my face with two strong hands. “You can.”
“I can’t.”
Eliot squints. “You can.” He nods to himself like it’ll process within me.
“I can’t.”
“I don’t think I like this game.”
“Probably because it’s not a game.”
“Vrai, vrai, vrai.”True, true, true.
Then the door flings open. “Dude, I can’tfuckingbelieve him…” Tom trails off as he looks up from his phone and sees me. “Oh, you’re here.”
Eliot punches Tom in the arm.
“Oh you’re here!” Tom changes his tone with fake excitement.
I rub the side of my neck. “Don’t worry, it won’t be for long,” I mention.
“What? No,no.” Tom raises his hands with the phone. “Sorry, Ben. Like I amsuperfucking happy you’re living with us. Trust.Please.But I’m just dealing with the biggest pain in my ass.”
Eliot leans on a bedpost and muses, “Is he a pain in the ass because you want him there?”
“I’m not talking about Phoenix, andno—no, dude, I don’t want to sleep with Phoenix either.” Tom groans all the way to the bed and plops face-down into the rumpled comforter.
He’s number five.
Tom Carraway—he’s eleven-months younger than Eliot, and they’ve been thick-as-thieves since they were kids. Eliot was right when he said none of us are the same. They might be alike in how they play with fire, but Eliot is usually the one who goes up in flames.
It feels like I should be closer to Tom since I’m sixth-born and he’s fifth, but he spent his whole life at Eliot’s side.
I can understand why.
Eliot knows how to make people feel extraordinary. So many times, he’s made me feel like I’m everything. Number one brother. Best person on the planet. A star in an undying constellation. Then there are times where I feel like he’sforgotten I even exist. The shadow he leaves in his wake is unbearable. Everyone wants to be in his light.
I pick up my duffel while I ask Tom, “Who’s bothering you?”
He rolls onto his back, forearm over his eyes. He looks the most like Charlie. With the same golden-brown hair, but Tom’s is shaggier and often hangs in his eyes. He has on Vans and a The All-American Rejects band tee. Nothing that Charlie would wear.
“No, today is not about Alfie Bugsby,” Tom says, naming the problem. He rises up like he’s a zombie awakening from the dead. “It’s about you. I’m completely focused on you, dude.”
Honestly, I don’t want him to be. My brothers have lives outside of the mess I’m fucking dropping on them by even being here, and I don’t want them to change their worlds for meat all.
