Page 52 of In Frame
He went back out down the hall, towards the kitchen; the twins had abandoned calculus homework in favor of staring into the refrigerator. They both turned when he came in; Diana looked him up and down and said, “Good phone call?”
“Yes,” Sam said. “If you’re going to stand there, get thelast two tomatoes out, and I think we have spaghetti?”
Thea narrowed eyes at him. They looked alike but not exactly identical; the same dark hair, the same smoky brown thoughtful stare, but Thea was a fraction taller and Di’s hair curled more. They’d fooled a few teachers, purely for fun, but never either of their brothers. Carlos claimed this was because he was the smartest; the twins always rolled eyes and asked him to explain seventeenth-century politicswithoutusing pretentious grad-student words, again, and then also shamelessly asked for help with high-school history projects.
Thea said, finally, “Why’s your hair doing that thing?”
Sam automatically put a hand up to touch. Couldn’t figure out the thing she meant. Extra-wavy? Standing up from pulling a shirt on? Hopefully not splashed with anything more disturbing.
“Also your shirt’s inside-out,” Di informed him. “Were you having phone sex?”
“No! And it is not!”
“But you just checked to make sure.”
“You did,” Thea put in, tossing a tomato at her sister. Her jeans, Sam noticed, were looking worn and faded, though that might just be some sort of style.
“You shouldn’t even know about sex,” he said. “I’m going to pretend you don’t. Not even when you’re forty years old. So, um, I might have news. Wait, first, how was the calculus?”
“Depressing.”
“Disgusting.”
“Finished for now. Is it about Leo Whyte?”
Sam stood in the kitchen, frozen beside a countertop and a package of pasta, and stared at his sisters.
“You think we don’t notice when you come home smiling and staring at your phone—”
“—and also you left it unlocked and showing a picture of him, this morning, when you were making coffee. He’s prettycute.”
“Maybe,” Sam tried, “I just also think he’s cute—”
“You dropped everything to run off to London for his premiere.”
“You got paid for it, we know, but that one was pretty last-minute even for you.”
“Plus we heard he didn’t show up at any of the after-parties. And in that picture he put on all his social media, you can see someone else’s arm or elbow or something in the corner.” Diana, Sam registered vaguely, would be an award-winning reporter someday. He felt mildly terrified on behalf of her fellow students and her school paper as it was.
“We didn’t know Leo Whyte was into guys. Like, there’re tons of rumors, we went and checked, but nothing confirmed ever.”
“But you’re our brother, so you’re awesome—” They waved hands at him in unison, as if the gesture explained something. “—and so of course he’d be into you. Once he met you. How’d you even meet, anyway?”
Sam propped elbows on the counter, buried his face in his hands for a minute, and complained, “I’m home for like two days and you’re looking up my love life on the internet…”
“Because we care.” Di patted his arm. “Someone has to worry about you, Big Ham.” That particular nickname dated back years, to the time Thea’d decided his name should rhyme with something, had come up with “Ham,” and when Sam had tried to protest this on big-brother grounds, had said instantly, “Fine, Big Ham!” He kept hoping they’d forget. The hoping hadn’t worked yet.
“So,” Thea said, finding garlic, “was that your news? Because, you know, you can still tell us, we’ll pretend we’re surprised—”
“—and we’re totally happy for you. Seriously. Though,like…we might need to talk about you dating a movie star.”
“Total Big Ham move.”
“Can you get us free movie tickets?”
Cynthea looked at him for a second, and said, “It’s kind of a big thing, isn’t it? Dating someone like that.”
“Um,” Sam said. “We’re not…exactly dating. Or maybe. We’re…something. Up to him. But I want to. That’s part of it. I sort of have…more news.”
