Page 110 of Spring Tide

As I walk up to the front door, I pause for a long moment, attempting to ground myself first. I don’t want to go in there guns blazing, completely and totally pissed off at my brother from the get-go. I need to be rational for a moment. Approach this with caution. It’s the only way I might be able to get through to him.

After my third and final knock, a tall kid in a letterman’s jacket opens the door for me. His gaze flits up and down my frame, two quick passes before he opens his mouth and says, “Dude, aren’t you a little too old for this?”

“I’m looking for my brother,” I mutter, forcing back an eye roll. “Elio Reynolds.”

“By all means.” He swings the door open, gesturing behind him and into the packed house.

With a shake of my head, I power on through, parting the crowd until I reach the kitchen. Surprisingly, I spot the little shit almost instantly. He’s pouring himself a drink into a classic red Solo cup. It’s a disgusting-looking mixture of juice and Everclear, exactly what I’d expect my little brother to be drinking right now.

He doesn’t even bother to look up when I enter the room—completely oblivious to my presence—so I take a shot and ask, “What the hell are you doing here, E?”

His head darts up at the sound of my voice, eyes wide with a panic that quickly fades into anger.

“The fuck, Luc?” he spits out. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,seriously. You’re really gonna skip out on tonight of all nights to go to a fucking party?”

He glances around us, scanning the perimeter of the room before taking a step closer. He clearly doesn’t want any of his little friends to hear me berate him. “Mom and Dad didn’t give a shit, so why does it matter to you?”

“It matters because I know you’re a fucking liar,” I say, unable to keep my volume down. I truly don’t care if every person at this goddamn party hears us arguing. “I know you’ve taken money from Taylor and our parents. You say you’re paying for classes at the community college, but I bet you’re not even taking them, are you?”

His nostrils flare, body tense and eyes wild at the accusation. He drops his voice to a low murmur and asks, “Can we do this outside?”

“Sure.” I toss a hand up. “Outside, it is.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots, lips flattened into a tight line. He’s actually angry withmeright now? Truthfully, it wasn’t my intention to embarrass him tonight. I’d rather not drag him by the ear out of his friend’s party, but at this point, he’s given me no other choice.

“Lead the way,” he says, gesturing wildly toward the crowd.

I head back to the front door, pushing through the entryway until we’re both out in the open air. He stands in front of me on the lawn now, arms crossed, eyes downcast. Normally, I wouldn’t force the eye contact, but I need to see if he’s hiding something from me.

“Look at me,” I demand.

He lifts his chin and stares me straight in the face—eyes bloodshot, cheeks flushed—and it’s pretty damn evident that he’s high again. My heart fractures a tiny bit at the sight of the confirmation.

“So the classesarefucking fake, aren’t they?”

“I was doing them, I swear,” he says on a long exhale. “But I failed a test, and then I couldn’t catch myself back up. It’s not my fault.”

“And the money you borrowed from Taylor?” My eyes narrow. “You wasted that on a class you were already failing?”

He stares at his feet, a muscle in his jaw tensing. “No.”

“The drugs, then? Is that what you’re spending money on?” I snap, acid burning in my throat. “Pills, coke, what else?”

“Nothing, man.” He shakes his head, a pitiful curve to his shoulders. “I’m not.”

I scoff, raising my voice as I shout, “Don’t lie!”

“Don’t fucking yell at me! You’re not my father.”

“No, but I am your brother, and you’re being so careless right now. You realize you’re taking money out of our baby sister’s pocket, right?” At this point, my temper is untamable. “You’re fucking everything up, E.”

“Just shut up!” he screams, head in his hands. “You’re being so goddamn dramatic.”

“You want to see me be dramatic?” I throw my hands up, fire pouring out of me. “Because I can get dramatic.”

“Oh, fuck this.” He spins on his heel. “I’m out of here.”

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