Page 133 of Tell Me It’s Right

“I had no idea,” I murmur.

She gives me a wry smile. “It’s not exactly something I advertise. My point is, yours? They may do a shit job of showing it, but theydolove you and want you around. That’s not nothing.”

I have to resist the urge to scoff.Sure, they want me around. As long as I’m in a tie, hide the tattoos and piercings, and pretend to give a fuck about so-and-so’s latest golf game or new boat or trip to Ibiza.

“The version of me they want around doesn’t exist,” I mutter.

She tilts her head to the side and nods. “Your dad, yeah. Taylor and Makayla, maybe. But not me and Casey. And not Asher. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing.” She laughs at whatever look is on my face. “Ash is a pain in the ass, but he’s young. And can you blame him? He grew up in that house too. He was even younger than you when your mom died. I think he’s just lost, Liam. And we both know your dad shipping him off to rehab so he doesn’t have to deal with it isn’t going to help him. Iguess what I’m saying is…maybe you should give him more of a chance. He looks up to you.”

I glance at Casey again, but this time, I see Asher at that age sitting in the car seat next to me as my mom drove us to school. I was in fifth grade when he was in second, so it was one of the rare times we overlapped and went to the same school. Taylor had already moved on to middle school, so naturally, he was too cool to be seen with us. Makayla was already in high school, which might as well have been a different planet. For a while there, it was Asher and me against the rest of the world.

I’m not sure when that changed.

Maybe I was unfair to him. Resenting him because the more he grew up, the more he fit into the family, when the opposite was happening to me. Taylor and Makayla always felt apart, but watching Asher join them…I guess it felt like a betrayal, in a way.

Maybe he was just trying to survive being a Brooks too.

I say nothing. I don’t know if I could if I tried.

Christine shrugs and opens her car door. “Just something to think about. Thank you again for the help.”

“Hey, Christine?—”

She pauses.

“I don’t know if I ever properly thanked you for getting Michael Cushing not to press charges. But…thank you.”

She smiles. “Whether I’m married to your dad or not, we’re family. That means something to me.”

I smile back and watch until her brake lights disappear around the corner.

Chapter Forty-Six

GRACIE

Liam:I’m so sorry. Something came up with Casey. I won’t make it for 7. Can we try closer to 9?

I hesitate at the outskirts of the park with my store-bought sandwich. So much for hurrying home. Not that I would’ve stayed longer otherwise. Less than an hour there and I still left the bar feeling like I needed a nap. I backtrack through the path until I come across an empty bench, sit, and tear open my clearance bin dinner.

We’re still hanging on to those long days of summer, so the sun hasn’t quite set yet, casting a golden tint to the surrounding park. The paths are full of people heading home from work, jogging, or walking their dogs. I close my eyes for a moment and breathe in the fresh air. It’s not quite as peaceful as I’d been hoping for with cars honking and music from the surrounding bars in the background.

I wanted this. More than anything, I wanted this, I remind myself.

I worked so hard to be here. I spent nights crying into my pillow when I thought this day wouldn’t come.

Across the street, I catch sight of a man rolling by on a skateboard.

My stomach twists.

All I can think about is the summer. Sitting in coffee shops, on the beach, the skatepark, the shop. Laughing with Carson or Liam or Leo, working day and night because I so badly wanted to see the shop improve. Because it felt like that mattered. Like everything I was doing had the potential to make a difference.

I glance around the park, at all the strangers passing by, people I’ll probably never see again and whose names I’ll never know. And I desperately try to remember when it was that I decided I wanted this. And why.

When nine o’clock rolls around and I still haven’t heard from Liam, I FaceTime Marti instead. The odds of her being available on a Friday night are slim, but at least since she’s on the West Coast, it’s only six o’clock for her.

“Gracieee!” Marti squeals as her face blurs across the screen. She sets the phone up in what seems to be her bathroom, her hair half pinned up like she was in the middle of straightening it. Rap music blares somewhere in the background, and she shouts over it for her speaker to pause. “I’m so glad you called! I was wondering how your first week in the big city went.” She fishes around in a makeup bag on the counter until she finds a brush, then disappears from view as she leans closer to the mirror.

“Oh, you’re busy. This can wait.”

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