Page 4 of Tell Me It’s Right

“I wasn’t?—”

He plops the box on top of the one in my hands, and I grunt, my legs doing an awkward shuffle to keep from folding in on themselves. He juts his chin to the open front door. “Go on then.”

Afraid he’ll add another box if I keep standing here, I hurry inside, barely able to see over the load in my arms.

“Here, I’ll take one of those.” Leo’s wife, Keava, appears in front of me and grabs the top box. I let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.” I keep waiting for a crack in her perfectly pleasant face—even a quicklookbetween her and Leo—but she just smiles and leads the way to the basement.

The house is fairly small and easy to navigate—the kitchen and living room on the first floor, two bedrooms upstairs, and the basement.

Which appears to have been their gym.

A treadmill, bike, and various weights are piled in the corner. It’s an open floor plan with a bathroom in the corner, but at least there’s carpeting and an AC unit.

“We’ll get you a real bed in here soon,” she assures me as she sets the box beside the air mattress currently inflating against the wall.

I’ve met Keava twice—at their wedding and Christmas one year. And neither instance involved spending much time together. Which just makes this situation that much more awkward.

She’s even prettier than I remembered. Way out of Leo’s league. Long brown hair, naturally tan skin, and a warmth to her that makes her instantly personable.

But I don’t care how nice she is. At least a small part of hermustbe unhappy with me being here. She and Leo got married just over a year ago. There’s no way she’s thrilled about his baby sister moving into her basement.

When I don’t respond, she smiles again and heads for the stairs. “I think I’ll get started on lunch. Come on up whenever you’re hungry.”

Once she’s gone, I set my box on top of the other and peel off the top.

My college diploma stares back at me.

I shove the lid back on.

Great lot of good that’s done me.

Footsteps pound down the stairs, and Leo steps around the corner, three boxes piled high in his arms. He sets them on the ground, not even out of breath, and raises an eyebrow.

“Hiding down here so I do all of the heavy lifting for you?”

“I was coming back,” I mumble.

He pauses, the amusement draining from his face as he puts his hands on his hips and glances around. “Is this okay? I know it’s not a lot of space, but it’s got to be better than Mom and Dad’s, right?”

He doesn’t meet my eyes as he says it, and I don’t meet his as I reply, “Leo, it’s great. I—thank you.”

This, at least, feels like a step abovemoving back home.

Our parents have lived in the same house in Edgewater for more than thirty years, but Leo and Keava ventured a town away to Sweetspire, putting them closer to the city but still near the water. And if there’s one good thing about returning to Jersey after four years in the Pacific Northwest, it’s the beach.

We came this way plenty over the years since Sweetspire is twice the size, so it’s not exactlynew, but at least I’m not slammed in the face with memories everywhere I look like in Edgewater. Not that they’re particularly bad memories, but being in that town feels like I’m forever stuck at sixteen.

Here feels like something new.

Even if it’s only twenty minutes down the road.

A stupid grin covers his face as he tilts his ear toward me. “What was that? Didn’t hear you.”

I slap the back of his head as I surge up the stairs. “And you’ll never hear it again.”

“Babe, you can’t give her that. She’s underage.”

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