Page 12 of Brazen Mistakes

Yeah.He snores.

Laughing, I take a selfie of myself in bed, surrounded by a bag of chips and an empty container of blueberries. Once I started eating, I ended up a bottomless pit. The wrappers on the floor attest to it.

Bet you’d rather be here. I’d even move the chips for you.

Lmao. I’m honored.

You should be. Salty and crunchy? Yum.

Wait. I changed my mind. You can hold them instead.

He sends me a picture of himself laughing.

I miss you.

I miss you too.

How are thingsat home?

Normal.

I sigh at the lack of information. I know all about what’s going on at Jansen’s and RJ’s houses, and even a fair amount about Trips’ relationship with his little sister, based on the tiff I heard at the start of my call. But I still know close to nothing about Walker’s family, besides the fact that he’s the youngest of four boys and that one of his brothers is apparently working on a cure for cancer. That’s it.

Are all your brothers home?

They all flew in, but they’ll be gone within a few days.

I debate what to do next, settling on an ambiguous question.

Is it nice to see them?

There’s a long pause before Walker’s reply comes up.

Yeah. But weird. Everyone is so different from when we were kids. But also, exactly the same. For example, I had to make polite small talk with my brother earlier, but hestill snores.

Lol! Were you guys close before?

Close enough. But after he left for college, we drifted. Anyway, I have to get up early to help cook, but I wanted to check in.

Did I push too hard?

Thanks for checking on me. I’m here, I’m fed, and you’ll see me tomorrow. Hopefully, with crumb-less sheets.

Good. I love you. Call if you need me.

Oh thank God. I haven’t ruined anything.

Love you too.

Setting down my phone, I stare out into the dark beyond my windows. The snow from earlier still falls, big clumps drifting down, muffling sounds from outside the house. I pick up my phone again.

MerryChristmas, Dad!

When it flashes a response, I ignore it, turning the movie on instead. I’m not ready for a conversation. Just imagining his excuses for my mom makes me want to throw something.

Anger and Christmas cheer, a match that can only be made under the watchful gaze of the world’s best fictional assassin.

Chapter 5

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