Page 41 of Twins For My Bestie's Brother

I put it back down and stare up at the ceiling.

Three days. I haven’t heard from Jackson in three days. Not since Will showed up at the store and interrupted us . . . doing what we were doing.

I must have crossed a line. I mean, we’ve been kissing and touching in public ever since the night of the reunion. But that hadn’t been in public. That had been the aisle of my family’s store. The only people who could have witnessed us would have been peeping Toms looking through the window or my dad which would have been humiliating. Thankfully, my father was busy filling prescriptions, probably listening to NPR.

I’d done it because I wanted to. Because I’ve come to crave his kisses. They’re like sugar. Sweets. They’re going to rot my teeth, but I love them all the same.

But when I’d heard the door chime, I hadn’t stopped. Couldn’t stop. Even though Jackson had done the right thing and tried to pull away.

Had I been forcing him into a situation he doesn’t want to be in? Had I . . . . really hurt him like that?

The entire time Will and I had talked (or Will had talkedatme, I should say), my mind had been on Jackson. And Will could tell.

“You’re really . . . you’re really serious about him,” he had said in disbelief.

And I had nodded. “Yes.” It hadn’t even felt like a lie.

He’d pursed his lips tight and shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s a mistake, you know. Do you think he’ll stick around? He could have anyone, Lily.”

My insides had chafed at his words. All the reasons I’d left came back to me. His meanness. His cruelty. Words are violent in their own way. It is an abuse that is insidious and slow until suddenly you realize you’ve spent years being beaten down by the man who claims to love you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s rich, isn’t he? He won’t settle for less than what he wants.”

“And if he wants me?” I’d pressed.

Will’s forehead had squiggled with wrinkles of frustration. “You seriously think he’s choosing you?”

“Maybe,” I’d said, biting down on my lower lip. It was all pretend. Jackson wasn’t really choosing me. Maybe Will was right.

“Ichose you, Lily.”

“But if you were rich, you’d choose someone else.”

He’d taken a step back and had the gall to look offended. “I didn’t say that.”

“You did. You said that someone who was rich and could pick anyone would never pick me. So, if you were rich, you wouldn’t pick me.”

“I’d always pick you, Lil.”

Because I put up with his abuses. Because I didn’t question him. Because I became his doormat. I wasn’t his lover. Not anymore. And I’m not sure if I ever was. “What about what I choose?” I’d asked. “What about whoIpick?”

Will’s nostrils had flared.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe Jackson and I won’t last.” No, it was a fact we wouldn’t. “But even if we don’t . . . I’m pickingme. Not you.”

He’d stared at me, face falling. And for a split second, he’d almost tricked me into seeing the boy I fell in love with in high school. The one who understood me and thought I was cool and interesting just by being. Where had that boy gone?

“There’s no use sticking around here, Will. It’s over. Forever.”

Will had said nothing more. But he’d smiled. A sickening smile. As if he knew something I didn’t. As if he knew better than me.

It wasn’t going to be easy to get rid of him.

So that night, I’d texted Jackson about organizing our next outing.

No response.

The next day, I’d followed up with an article I saw about cycling I thought he might like.

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