Page 4 of Whatever It Takes
I try to believe it. Placing my tortoise-shell glasses back on, I keep reading his post.
Siblings:three older brothers. Be happy they’re not yours.
Love or Lust:lust doesn’t hurt.
He sounds sad, but not his usual sad. I reach for my phone to send him a silly gif from his favorite TV show—Supernatural. Just as my fingers slide over the screen, I notice the last question and answer.
Met a Celebrity:I think I might be becoming one…
It chills me for a second. How much my life has changed his.
Three years ago, I was no one. I was living in a sleepy town of Caribou, Maine, and my parents were getting divorced. My little sister Ellie was my only sibling, and I only had one friend.
Then I woke up one morning, and little did I know, but everything just…changed.
I found out that Ellie wasn’t my only sibling.
I had a brother miles and miles away.
Afamousbrother.
Loren Hale has the kind of fame where he shows up on magazines and tabloids every week. The kind of fame where I had idolized him long before I even knew we were related. Imagine if someone like Chris Evans—Captain America himself—had a long-lost little sister. That sister beingme.It was that impactful and unbelievable and really…
Three years later, it’s still surreal.
Loren Hale changed everything.
For me and Garrison.
2PRESENT DAY – September
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
GARRISON ABBEY
Age 20
Seven days. Six hours. And three excruciating minutes. But it’s not like I’m counting how long it’s been since Willow and I put an ocean between us.
I like numbers.
I like to code.
It’s what I fucking do.
Even at two in the morning on a Friday night. My headphones are tossed aside on my mattress. Giving my ears a rest from wearing them in the office all day. Did I mention it was Friday?
Which means the asshole in the apartment next door is currently hosting some sort of first semester bash in his place. The walls thump from his shitty EDM music.
I can code with most music.
That’s not what’s really distracting me. It’s the laughter and the high-pitched squeals and the frat-bro cheering that pulls my mind away from work.
“JARED!” a girl shrieks. Someone knocks into a shared wall and mySilversun Pickupsposter falls off the hook and hits the floor.
Yeah, that’s it.
I push away from my keyboard on my rolling chair and slide across the hardwood to my stereo setup. I crank it up. Full blast. And then I scroll through a playlist on my phone.
