Page 36 of Mine to Take

With a smirk, River shakes his blond head. “Seriously, sis. I can’t take you anywhere.”

When I blot at the thin material with the napkin, his brow furrows.

“Where’s your necklace?”

I gulp as my fingers sweep against my collarbone. I feel naked without the silver chain and the little pendant resting against my skin.

I drop my gaze and continue blotting. There’s no way I can lie to my brother while holding his steady stare. He’ll see the fib written across my face within seconds of it leaving my lips. “I took it off before showering this morning and must have forgotten to put it back on.”

There’s a second or two of silence that has my heart exploding into double time.

“I didn’t think you ever took it off.”

With a forced smile, I attempt to keep the panic from invading my voice. “I usually don’t. As soon as I get home, I’ll put it back on.”

His brow remains creased as his tone dips. “I gave it to you right after you were diagnosed.”

A thick lump of emotion swells in my throat, making it impossible to breathe. “I remember.”

When a faraway look clouds his blue eyes, I realize that he’s mentally tripping down that painful path again. I was diagnosed at age sixteen with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, and sometimes I think it was harder on my family than it was on me. Or maybe it just felt that way because I was forced to put on a brave face in front of them so they wouldn’t worry more than necessary.

Most nights, River would crawl into my bed. Sometimes, when he thought I was sleeping, his breathing would grow choppy. It would be impossible not to remember the sound of him trying to choke back his sobs.

We’re twins.

There’s never been a time when I haven’t been finely attuned to both his thoughts and feelings. More often than not, I experience them as if they were my own.

And vice versa.

It’s the reason I can never stay angry with him for long. I might not like what he’s doing, but I understand the reason for it and that his response comes from a loving place.

He doesn’t want me to get hurt.

I just wish he’d recognize when he’s the one who’s causing me pain.

“You know that I’m fine, right?” I murmur, wanting to draw his attention away from the past. “I’ve been in remission for two years.”

He blinks and refocuses on me as his expression remains somber. “I still don’t understand why you felt the need to transfer schools. I liked you being close.”

I bite back the frustrated sigh that sits perched on the tip of my tongue. “Because it was time for me to spread my wings and be more independent.”

“And you couldn’t do that at East Town?”

With his constant hovering?

“We both know the answer to that.”

Our gazes stay locked as a silent dialogue takes place between us. It’s one of the benefits to being a twin. We don’t need to say a word to communicate our thoughts and feelings. When we were kids, it used to get us into trouble.

“Fine,” he grumbles. “We’ll drop the topic.” Then he tacks on, “For now.”

I glance at my watch. “You should probably finish up. My shift at the tutor lab starts in twenty minutes.”

As he picks up his fork, preparing to dig in, voices drift on the air and my skin prickles with awareness. I glance toward the entrance of the restaurant as the energy shifts and a bunch of hockey players walk in, jostling one another.

My belly spasms as a fresh burst of nerves explodes within me.

Maverick McKinnon.

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