Page 61 of Resurrection
"I think we better check with your father,mija."
"Mr. Medina should just consider coming to Palm Springs too," Tyler said. "Going to be a big crowd that evening. Lethal Sky is headlining." He cleared his throat and added, "It's a band from San Diego."
"Smart marketing, young man." My mom laughed. "You know the food truck will bring more people than the concert, right?"
Ty grinned. "Cross promotion."
"I’ll mention it to your father tonight," Mom replied, shifting her attention to me.
Ty stayed for a little longer, both of us pretending Adri wasn’t weird.
"I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow at school?" he said, getting up from the chair. "Thanks for the food, Mrs. Medina," he told my mom and patted his stomach.
"Of course."
I walked Ty to the door and watched him put on those massive boots. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he hopped down the stairs and headed over to his place.
A couple of hours later, when Mom had gone to her room, Adri cornered me in the kitchen, where I was getting water before bed.
"You need to be careful, Shrimp," he said cryptically, blocking my way with his arm.
"Careful of what? Your mood swings? Oh wait, it doesn’t swing. Your default setting is pissed."
"I’m serious, Naomi."
"Get out of my way, dude." I flicked my hand at my brother, but he didn’t move.
"What’s going on with you and him, huh?" Adri asked instead. His voice was a little too protective for my taste. "You like him?"
Something in my chest pinched. I wasn’t sure what it was or why it had happened.
"That’s none of your business," I shot back. I could have said no. Could have said Adri was delusional.
He leaned in, intense, like he was interrogating a criminal. "You’re an idiot if you do."
"You’re so immature." I stuck out my tongue at him.
"I mean it, Shrimp."
I glared at him, offended. "And why’s that? Why can’t I do what I want?"
"He’s not serious about you," Adri said. "He never is. He’s just going to?—"
"Break my heart?" I finished for him, angry. "Please. You don’t know him like I do. You don’t even talk anymore."
"Or maybe I know him better. That’s why we don’t talk."
I snorted. "Right. Or maybe it’s because you think that now that you’ve graduated, you’re too cool to be friends with high-schoolers." I was being a brat, but Adri deserved it. "What did Ty ever do to you?"
Adri’s eyes narrowed. "Don’t get your hopes up where he’s concerned."
"Whatever." I rolled my eyes again, a real professional teenager. "We hang out, Adri. Deal with it."
He scoffed, not bothering to argue anymore. He just walked away, leaving me to fume. Typical Adri move. It wasn’t like I would listen to my brother anyway.
For the next two days, Adri and I went radio silent. My brother was wrapped up in helping Dad with the truck, so we didn’t really have to collide awkwardly in small talk.
On the second night, I was sprawled across my bed with my journal open, but mostly I was just staring at the Bradys' place. Their windows were dark spots against the night—they’d finally flicked off their lights.
