Page 5 of Honest With You

Every year, Stephen, Reese and I go out together to buy school supplies. Mama used to take us separately and called it our “hello date”, as if saying hello to a new school year would make the end of summer seem more appealing.

When she died, Stephen and I decided to keep the ritual going for Reese instead of relying on Yaya Ella, our nanny/housekeeper to do the shopping for us.

This was how we worked for the last few years: I made sure we had everything we needed, and Stephen made sure we felt loved and protected. The two of us might have grown up a little too fast, but we’ll be damned if we let that happen to Reese. At least this way, she gets to grow up without the added weight of responsibility.

I pick up the frame sitting on my nightstand, tracing the picture.

It was taken on Reese’s eighth birthday, her first after Mama died. The three of us at a zoo. The memory of that day still weighs the heaviest on my mind.

I spent the night before baking her a cake like Mama used to do for us on our birthdays. Stephen woke up early to make her chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. We were too young to take her anywhere on our own, so our security team drove us to Woodland Park and Yaya Ella chaperoned us. Reese had the best time there but when it was time to go to bed that night, she cried inconsolably. She asked us why Mama and Daddy weren’t there. Even though we were successful in giving her a great birthday, Stephen and I just weren’t our parents. After she finally cried herself to sleep, my brother and I looked at each other and both lost it. We promised each other that from here on out, we would do what was best for Reese and for each other.

That was the day both of us stopped being kids.

Guilt prickles my skin, the back of my neck still damp as I walk back out into the parking lot.

My cousin, Tyler, is leaning on his Mustang, legs crossed at the ankle and smoking a cigarette while he waits for me. If he wasn't doing me this favor, I’d grab the thing from his lips and smash it with my shoe. I need an outlet to project all my frustration, with the way I’m feeling right now. I feel damn near combustible. But I don’t bother, too swept up in my own problems to worry about his.

"Everything okay?" He flicks his cancer stick on the pavement, his worried gaze never leaving mine.

I jerk my head in response, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Fuck no, man. Let’s just get out of here.”

Tyler doesn’t push, motioning for me to get in the car. I take one last look at the building behind me before we drive off. I hope I made the right choice.

We’re about halfway to his place in Kensington before he says anything.

“You did the right thing.”

I should have known he could still read my mind. Back when he lived in San Diego, we were so close, people often mistook us for brothers. Our moms were sisters, so we practically grew up together before he went off to NYU for college.

I lean my head back on the seat and stare out the window. I let myself get lost watching the bustling streets. It’s so busy and full of life here, like everyone is in a hurry to be somewhere. If this was any other vacation, I would go out there and explore. New York fascinated me. Ty and I had talked about living here as adults. It’s a stark contrast to the chill Cali life we grew up in.

Although I had always planned on being here, I never pictured myself spending my time like this.

I did what I had to do,I remind myself.

I shift in my seat and turn my eyes back on the road in front of me. All around us, car horns are blaring and people are shouting over each other. But it might as well be complete silence. I can’t concentrate on a damn thing besides the thoughts that run amuck.

The look of betrayal on her face when she realized what I did. It mirrored mine when I found out what she had been keeping from me.

Tyler sighs beside me as he pulls into the driveway of the two-story townhouse he shares with his college buddies. Any other time, I would have been pumped to be here and have a front row seat to what life is like after high school. But my nerves are frayed from the stress of the last month. Right now, all I want to do is get back on a plane and go home. And get the hell away from her.

“Look, I know you don’t want to hear it but you’re not responsible for someone else’s actions. You can’t carry this shit around with you, man. Move on.” Ty points a finger at my phone. “And call your mom! She’s been blowing up my phone wanting to know about yourvacation.”

He makes sure to air quote the word “vacation” like I didn’t know what he meant.

I expel a frustrated breath. “You know I can’t.”

Ty pushes his door open, cocking his head for me to do the same. “I get it, I do, but if you don’t call her then my mom will call me.” He jerks a thumb to his chest as we step out of the car and walk up.

The tension rolls off my shoulders at the thought of having to lie to my mom again. I never told her about what happened with Margaret. Mom thinks I’m here to visit Ty and check out NYU before school starts. I practically had to beg her and Aunt Piper to let me come alone this summer instead of making it a family trip.

I shake my head in astonishment. “I don’t know why she’s tripping. I’m only missing a few days of school, and I’ll be back next week.”

Ty gestures for me to head to the living room as we enter his pad. He makes a quick pit stop in the kitchen. I drop down on the couch and pull my phone out.

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