Page 96 of The Baller

One of the seventeen thousand people I think I’d spoken to since yesterday was Casey Bailey, The White House press secretary, who’d called me to her office this morning to ask if I was dating Lux Weston. I’d just about stopped myself from turning an impressive beetroot shade as I replied that yes, I was. She then got pulled away by something much more important which is when I took the opportunity to run.

Therefore, I was somewhat in the dark about what was and wasn’t known, but I honestly I couldn’t give a shit.

Turns out being happy is the cure for almost everything.

“Radley…” The deep voice was followed by a thud and heavy footsteps. “Radley Badley, where are you?”

The spoon stopped halfway to my mouth. Beyond the wind howling outside, the only sound I could hear was the milk dripping off it, or it would have been if not broken up by the poundingdown the hallway, and Ben shouting my name.

“There you are!” my brother greeted as he leaned against the door frame, his grin widening as my scowl deepened. “Badass Radass.”

I ignored him, and the nickname I hated.

Instead, I picked up my bowl and drained the remainder of my breakfast-lunch. Brunch. Nope. A bowl of cereal at lunchtime did not make it brunch, but it was all I wanted after my massive Women of the Arts breakfast.

“Oh, come on…” he crossed the kitchen and swept me into a hug. My feet swung like a ragdoll as his fingers needled my sides until I squealed, just like he’d done since he’d gotten strong enough to lift me.

And just like I’d always done… I landed a swift kick to his shin to get dropped back to the floor. “Ouch.”

“I thought you would have at least waited a few more hours before you showed your face. You know, put on a shred of pretense that you got held up at school. Henry doesn’t even have that excuse, he’s in D.C. and he still didn’t come.”

He dropped a kiss on my head, and grabbed the box of cereal. “We didn’t want to steal your spotlight. We didn’t need to be here for that breakfast thing. No boys allowed. And really, no one cares about the turkey.”

I rolled my eyes so deeply my brain throbbed. “You were still supposed to be here yesterday.”

Up to maybe five minutes ago when he breezed into the kitchen, I hadn’t really beenthatpissed I’d had to spend yesterday meeting everyone, even though there were only so many times I could tell people I was having a great time at Columbia, and the Shakespeare class was my favorite,andignore the little voice deep in my ear wondering if they remembered seeing the photos of me.

The crippling anxiety I was usually inflicted with hadn’t felt as present as I remembered it being the last time I was here, but seeing Ben’s smug face grinning at me, knowing it didn’t even occur to him I might have wanted his support, not to mention he’d completely missed the entire point I was trying to make – the three of us had been told to get hereyesterday– set my blood boiling.

My brothers got to do whatever they wanted.

“Calm down, Badass, we’ll be there tonight.”

“Stop calling me that!” Heoofedagain as I jammed an elbow into his side, and moved the milk out of the way as he reached for it. “You know I hate it. I’m not a badass.”

He tutted, leaned to the other side, and grabbed it. “Why are you in a mood already?”

“I’m not in a mood, but you were supposed to be here with me… and of course you weren’t.”

“Rad, I have my finals for law school, and mom said I could skip it to stay one more day.”

“I had school too, Benny, but I still came because mom asked us to.” Also because I didn’t realize there was the option of not coming.

Though I knew deep down that I’d have still come to support her.

He shrugged through a very loud mouthful. Cinnamon Toast Crunch certainly lived up to its name when Ben was eating. There was milk all over the table from where it had sloshed from the bowl, not to mention pieces of cereal scattered about because he shoved his fist into the box before he decided a bowl was better.

Were all boys this gross?

No, Lux wasn’t. Neither were the other three, and age wasn’t the issue because they were the same age as Ben.

“Yeah, we figured you would, so it’d be cool if we missed it,” he slurred through a mouthful.

I didn’t bother to reply. Instead, I passed him the dish towel to clean up his mess, and flicked on the coffee machine.

I stood there staring at my reflection in the stainless steel. The last time I’d been home was the day I left for school, nearly three months ago. It was hard to believe that girl was the same one staring back at me. I looked the same, but I didn’t feel the same.

Not even close.

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