Page 133 of Interference

I stared at him. He hadn’t seen me cry since Grandma’s funeral. I hadn’t seen him cry since well before that.

He glanced at me, then apparently realized I was staring, and he rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“What?” I laughed. “I didn’t think you were—”

He flipped me off, and we both chuckled, which helped us pull ourselves together. Hands shaking, Jon took out his vape pen again, and we sat in silence while he took a few drags.

After a while, he studied me through the cloud of citrus-scented vapor. “I do still have one question.”

I absently scratched behind Lily’s ear. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He tipped his head toward the house. “How the fuck did you go from being homeless to dating a professional hockey player?”

The laughter that poured out of me felt amazing, and I leaned back in the chair. “So there was this cold snap in November…”

Twenty minutes later, after I’d told him the story and we’d talked some more, we agreed our eyes weren’t incriminatingly red anymore, and we headed back inside.

“Did you idiots get lost out there again?” Dad asked as Jon took off his shoes.

“Again?” Anthony laughed, arching an eyebrow. “Is this a thing?”

“No,” my brother and I said at the same time our dad insisted, “Yes.”

Mom giggled. “Before some of the other neighbors moved in, it was all woods back there.” She gestured toward the yard. “When these two were little—”

“They were idiots,” Dad said. “Just smaller ones than they are now.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I muttered as I sat down beside Anthony on the couch. “And anyway, it was Jon’s fault.”

“What?” Jon scoffed as he sat next to me. “That’s crap.”

“You told me there were leprechauns in the woods!”

Anthony snorted. “And you believed him?”

“I was four!”

“And you were an idiot.” Jon punched my shoulder. “Don’t forget that part.”

I punched him back. “I was four.”

He huffed and kicked me, then howled when he caught my prosthetic with his sock-covered foot. “Ow! Jesus!”

I cackled. “That’s what you get!”

He flipped me off, and Mom tsked.

“Boys.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“What?” I shrugged. “He started it.”

My brother muttered something as he gingerly rubbed his foot. Then he asked, “I, uh… Didn’t jack up your prosthetic, did I?” He grimaced. “I forgot about it.”

I pursed my lips. Then, “Mom! Jon broke my prosthetic! That means I get his gaming console, right?”

Dad and Anthony both burst out laughing while Jon punched me again.

Mom just rolled her eyes and sighed. To Anthony, she said, “This is what happens when you have boys. You end up with a house full of smartasses.”

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