Page 165 of From Now On

“Uh-huh. Seventeen hours wasn’t long enough.”

I snort. “I just got here.”

Sean clears his throat. “Please, Hunter.”

He clearly wants to talk to me alone, but I’m not sure that’s a great idea. I’m less liable to say something I’ll regret around our parents. And, past his bluster, I’m not oblivious to the fact that Sean just had a near-death experience. It’s in both of our interests if I keep my mouth mostly shut.

I glance at my mom. She nods encouragingly.

I was expecting to have a seventeen-hour drive to decide what to say to my brother. I wasn’t expecting him to be here.I’mshocked, actually, that he came to my graduation. I assumed he was still at the rehab center, because my mom never said otherwise.

Whatever. We’ll have to do this at some point, I guess.

“Yeah. Fine.” I pull my car keys back out of my pocket. “We’ll be back soon, I guess.”

“Have fun and be safe!” she calls.

Same thing she’s always said to us.

Sean’s silent as we step into the elevator and head back down to the Westin’s lobby.

I am too. He’s made it clear he didn’t want to hear what I had to say, so I’m waiting for him to talk first.

By the time we’re in my SUV, he still hasn’t said a word.

I drum my fingers on the steering wheel. “So…where to?”

“What about the rink?”

“They melted the ice.”

Sean shrugs a shoulder. “I didn’t bring my skates.”

“Fine.” I pull out of the parking lot, turning up the music so we don’t have to sit in stifling silence. It’s the Arctic Monkeys. Eve turned me on to them.

“No. 1 Party Anthem” ends, and “Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?” starts next.

I deliberate skipping to the next song, but then I decide to leave it on.

Sean doesn’t say a word. Either he’s oblivious to the lyrics’ uncanny relevance, or he’s choosing not to comment.

Which makes me think my brother has changed even more than I realized. Because the Sean I used to know was smart—smarter than me. Nothing got past him. And he loved a good joke or prank.

The rink’s parking lot is completely empty. Which I expected. All the underclassmen have left campus for the summer, most of the graduating seniors are spending time with their families,and the rink hasn’t been used for more than a month. Officially, it closed back in March when our season ended.

Sean pops his door open and climbs out like he’s fully expecting to head inside.

I have a key, but he doesn’t know that.

I trail after him, studying my brother like he’s a code I’m trying to decipher.

Sean crouches down in front of the door handles, slipping something out of his pocket.

“What are you doing?” I ask, reaching him.

“I wanna see the rink, not the building.”

“So you’rebreaking in? Isn’t your rap sheet long enough, Sean?”

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