Page 23 of Limbo

Monday.

He’s exhausting.

Connor’s knee nudges my arm. “You’re smiling. Cate’s new boyfriend?”

I wipe the expression from my face. “She’s rather smitten, isn’t she?”

His eyebrow does a quick up-down. “Yeah, my sister seems to really like this guy.”

“Subtle,” I tell him. I knock his foot off the couch as I go to change for bed.

When I come out of the bathroom, he’s waiting in the hallway.

“Lover Boy texted.” He tosses me my phone, and I glare up at him on my way past. If his feet give any indication of height, he’ll surpass the six-foot-three he stands in no time.

Back in my room and away from prying eyes, I drop onto the bed and check Jordan’s message.

Tomorrow. Stop arguing.

Letting out a sigh, I scroll through the conversation he and Cate shared. I pause on the closest to normal picture of him in the collection. Even on a screen, his eyes keep their intensity, flecks of darker green standing out.

“Seriously, Cal?” Connor fills up my entire doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. “Just bang the guy already.”

I fling a pillow across the room at him. He catches it and cannons it back, disappearing by the time it hits me.

Younger brothers never outgrow their annoying stage.

I wait until after seven for Lauren on Sunday evening. Her last message promised she’d be back no later than six. When Connor opens the fridge and takes out the leftovers to reheat, I give up. Cate sets the table for the three of us, and they tell me about their plans for the upcoming week as we eat. It’s our usual family meal, them and me.

After we finish, Connor cleans up while Cate takes her bath. He joins us in her room when he’s done, and with my not-so-little brother on one side of the bed and me on the other, she reads us her favorite book. Most of the time, she forgets to turn the page because she recites it from memory. Over the past year, she’s heard the story hundreds of times, snuggled between us, never once realizing our little ritual is in place to give her some level of normalcy. A distraction from her mother’s almost-constant absence at bedtime.

We wait until she falls asleep to sneak out.

Connor follows me out to the kitchen, my bags and coat in his hand. “Go,” he says, shoving them at me. “Three hours puts you on campus at midnight. We’ll be fine. I’ll text you when she gets here.”

A heaviness enters my chest. I hate to leave him to deal with whatever condition she comes home in, if she comes home, but his stubbornness rivals mine.

He pulls me in for a hug, and I wrap my arms around his torso. For the moment, we take solace in the security only we provide for one another.

His chin rests on top of my head. “One hundred sixty-four days, Cal. Don’t forget.”

A year ago, those numbers meant more than anything. When things were at their worst, Connor saved me with the calendar, counting down until I turned eighteen and was free. He made me promise I’d build a life far away from our parents—be happy and never look back. It’s why I chose Easton, my fresh start. My escape.

The second time around, both the calendar and words have lost the magic for me, but he still needs to believe in them, so I nod against his chest. “I won’t.”

I force a smile as I leave him in the kitchen. The blinds lift after I go outside, and he watches me load up the car. Even from a distance, the two lines between his eyebrows are visible. They form when he worries, more and more often as of late.

On the highway, I roll the windows down, so the freezing air can wash away the hatred, resentment, and doubt that anything will ever get better. Everything that threatens to drag me down if I let it. Except it all stays present this time. My mind never shuts off. Not for a single second of the trip.

I sit for a minute in the parking lot in front of the dorms, collecting myself before I haul my bags inside. When I turn the light on in the suite, I jump, seeing a body on the couch.

Freaking Connor and his horror movies.

It’s not a dead body but a passed-out Jordan. I drop my bags on the floor in my room and grab the extra blanket from my bed. I set his phone on the coffee table and move his arm onto the couch before covering him up. At least someone in my life follows through, albeit it’s the guy who wants to bang me all in the name of winning.

I go to my room and check if Connor texted yet. Nothing from him, but I have a missed message from the guy passed out on my couch.

All right, beautiful, in case I miss you, I’ll see you tomorrow.

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