Page 72 of One Big Little Secret

Maybe the strangeness in his tone isn’t regret after all, because now he looks like he’s about to laugh.

Patton Rory, laughing, alive and carefree.

Today is a modern miracle.

“I’m starting to think you protest too much.”

“Okay, Shakespeare.” Smiling, I adjust my stance, moving my feet so they don’t get too cold.

He chuckles. “That’s the first time anyone ever called me Shakespeare.”

“Which one of your brothers is better with words?”

He considers it before shaking his head. “I’m it. Wordsmith extraordinaire.”

“Okay, boss. Whatever you say.” I try not to hide my disbelief.

Patton grumbles and shoves his hands in his pockets.

That wins him a laugh.

“Something else Archer beats me at, huh?” he mutters. “What did you say to him, anyway?”

“What?”

“To make you both laugh like deranged hyenas.”

I think back to the one time Archer and I met and he laughed—the time Patton walked in with a face like thunder, all Zeus glaring at me with brutal disapproval.

“Honestly, I can’t remember. It wasn’t that funny.” My face grows hotter under the hat. It’s so damp I’ve had enough, and I pull it from my head and shake my hair out. “Probably shouldn’t have dropped my hat, it’s soaking my hair.”

“Salem—”

“Mommy, did you see? Did you see?” Arlo pants as he joins us again. He’s losing his hat too so I tuck it back on over his ears. “I went so far this time!”

“I know, sweetie. I was watching. Do you think you can go faster again?”

“Yeah!” His movements are more sluggish as he clambers back on the sled.

I can tell he’s getting tired, even though his determination outweighs any cry for rest from his little body. I give him a push and he whoops as he flies down again. We’ve made our own track in the snow, and his sled falls into its biggest grooves.

“You didn’t answer the question,” Patton says. “About Archer.”

“Dude, it’s not a big deal.” Kind of a lie, but never mind.

“So why are you avoiding it?”

I sigh, folding my arms and facing him, knowing my hair’s a rat’s nest and I have a red nose worthy of Rudolph. Do we really have to ruin this?

Because if I tell him, I’ll make a confession he’ll despise me for. Again.

“You really want to know? Archer asked how we were getting along. I told him how Arlo drew you as Grumpybutt and you were pretty unhinged over it.”

“Unhinged?” He glowers.

“Yeah, and your brother laughed. Because apparently the idea of me messing up so bad on my very first day was hilarious—and so was the thought of you getting pissy over a kid’s drawing.”

I half expect him to go off.

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