Page 18 of Loathe Thy Neighbor

“The fifth graders I teach have better comebacks than that.”

“That’s because they’re all young and hip. I’m old and not hip.”

I laugh, turning off the water and grabbing the dishtowel hanging off the edge of the sink to dry my hands. “Nobody says hip anymore, Holland.”

“Which proves my point.”

“You’re younger than me.”

“By fifteen months! That doesn’t count.”

“It counts, little sis.” I grab the phone with my hand again and stretch out the kink forming in my neck. I peel open the fridge and pluck out a beer.

“Are those bottles I hear clinking?”

“Those are my brunch beers, yes.” I hold the bottle up to the opener I have sticking to the fridge. “And this is a brunch beer bottle opening.” I pop the top and instantly take a hefty swig. Leaning my back against the counter, I cross one leg over the other. “All right, kiddo, let’s hear it. What did your mom do now?”

“Do you remember Brett Johnson from high school?”

“That guy who found a way to bring up his stepmom ineveryconversation and it started becoming way too creepy? Unfortunately, yes.”

“Beyond creepy. I just got done having my weekly face-to-face with Mom, and guess who she set me up with?”

“Gross. Why?”

“Because she hates me, that’s why.”

“Mom doesn’thateyou. It’s just obviousI’mher favorite.”

My sister laughs lightly, but I know that bit of knowledge hurts because it hurts me too.

Our parents didn’t get the whole “you’re not supposed to pick favorites” memo.

I’m Mom’s favorite, and Holland isdefinitelyDad’s.

We picked up on it early and settled into the reality, promising each other to never let it come between us. Unlike a lot of siblings, Holland and I get along like two peas in a pod. We didn’t have a choice but to lean on each other growing up in our house. It always felt like our parents were more divorced than they were married. It was awkward to navigate, and their favoritism didn’t do anything to help ease the tensions.

Still, we never let them affect our sibling relationship. Aside from my childhood friend Nolan—and I guess Leo, though I’d never tell her that—she’s my best friend.

“Are you going to go out with him?”

“Do I have a choice?” She groans. “You know your mother will guilt me into it either way. At least she didn’t set me up with Sutton Barnes,” she grumbles.

Even though we’ve been doing it for years, I still grin when she calls Mommymother.

“Unless…” Holland’s taking the conversation exactly where I thought she would.

“Ah, sothat’swhy you called—to get me to convince Mom to let you out of this date.”

“And because you’re my favorite brother.”

“Uh-huh.” I take another long pull from my beer.

“Please, Dean? Pretty,prettyplease? I don’t want to go on this date because I’m like ninety-nine percent certain this guy is boning his stepmom. Why Mom would set me up with him is beyond me.”

“Hello, his last name is Johnson. You know his bank account is large, and Mom’s kind of…well…”

“Materialistic? Always looking for a way to climb the social ladder even if it means putting her children in harm’s way? A monster?”

---