Page 208 of Story of My Life
“Say what?” Gage asked from the front seat.
“We’ve been in the boat thirty fucking seconds and you’ve mentioned Zoey’s name twice already,” I pointed out.
“So?” he hedged.
“You liiiiiike her,” Levi and I sang together. And for one second, I was transported back to Miller telling us he was taking our sister to homecoming. Gage had been doing the teasing. I’d taken a swing at my friend. Levi had held me back and then threatened to shove Miller’s head so far up his ass he could do his own colonoscopies if he ever hurt Laura.
“I’m the youngest. Why am I the only adult in this boat?” Gage complained, dragging me out of the memory. I rubbed absently at my chest and forced the past back into its box.
“She’s hot,” Levi said succinctly.
“And a handful,” I pointed out.
“I’m not discussing this with you idiots,” Gage said.
“You fell off a roof the first time you saw her,” Levi said.
“If either of you say a goddamn word to Larry about this?—”
“Who the hell do you think clued us in?” I said. “She noticed you slobbering over her at Summer Fest.”
“We should get a pontoon boat,” Levi said.
Gage and I shot him looks in the dark.
“Huh?” Gage said.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“So Larry can come out with us,” he explained.
“That’s…not a terrible idea,” I admitted.
“You’re a good brother…at least to Larry,” Gage said.
Levi shrugged in the dark. “Figured she probably misses coming out here, but she’s too fucking stubborn to say anything.”
“Speaking of being too fucking stubborn to say anything. I sketched up some plans for her. First-floor bathroom, bedroom,” I said.
“You gonna show her?” Levi asked.
“Dunno. She didn’t ask for them, and she kinda scares me. Might make Dad show her.”
Levi grunted.
Gage scrubbed a hand over his face. “Christ. You guys ever get tired of not talking about shit?”
“No,” Levi and I said in unison.
“You’re both assholes,” Gage grumbled.
Levi’s phone screen lit up just as Gage reached for his pocket. I felt my own phone buzz against my leg.
Dad:Laura fell pretty bad. She’s in the hospital.
I hatedthis fucking place with its antiseptic smells and intermittent beeping and scrub-wearing staff who acted like it was just a normal fucking day. Memories I’d done my best to keep buried clawed their way to the surface.
I wondered if my brothers felt the tightening in their chests, the closing of their throats as the three of us hustled through the halls. She wasn’t in the ICU. This wasn’t like last time. I chanted it to myself over and over again.
