Page 21 of The Step Bet

While I can’t manage forgiveness, I do say, “Fine. Whatever. I’ll be there. I know how much you miss me.”

He does not, in fact, miss me. And I’m only going because he’s right about Mom.

He sighs like he’s had enough of me, and since I’ve had enough of him too, I end the call.

It looks like I’m only going to be able to avoid Troy for a few more days.

I fidget the whole drive to my apartment, changing songs, tapping the steering wheel, anything to get my frustration out. The second I’m on my couch, I text Troy.

What does it say about me that annoying him makes me feel better?

Me: How’s the studying going?

Lil Stepbro: So you just got the call reminding you about Mom’s birthday too, huh? Then decided to take your annoyance out on me?

Goddamn it. It irks me that he knows me so well.

Me: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Lil Stepbro: You’re the most closed-off person I know.

Me: Thank you! Best compliment you’ve ever given me. Now back to Thermo…you regretting this yet?

Lil Stepbro: Regretting the fact that you’ll be gagging on my dick soon? Not at all.

I look down at my crotch as my dick does a little twitch. Okay, now this is just pissing me off.

Lil Stepbro: Unless you chicken out. Because I’ll be acing that test. And youwillbe on your knees for me.

And somehow, the little asshole just got the upper hand.

Me: Nah, I don’t think so. But hey, if so, it will be the best head you ever received. I wonder how that will make you feel. The fact that I’ve never had a dick in my mouth, yet I’ll be better at it than you.

Lil Stepbro: Never gonna happen.

Me: Yeah, because you won’t ace the test.

Lil Stepbro: I meant, you’re never going to be better than me!

And because I know it will bother him, I leave him on read and don’t reply all night.

9

Troy

Mom and Glen’sfriends pack the yard.

Leaves are still falling, and it’s a warm October day with a cool breeze, the sort that suggests we’ve got much colder days in the near future. But it’s a good day for an outdoor party.

Neighbors, coworkers, and old friends crowd the place, and it’s hard to believe Mom could have meaningful relationships with even half of them. But the way she stands at Glen’s side, among the group congregated around them, tossing her head back for a laugh, it’s like she’s never known any other way. Like those days of celebrating at a table for four with a cake that Dad, Brandon, and I baked and iced together are fantasies I’ve made up in my head.

Since guests started arriving, I’ve done the whole song and dance, chatting with the people I recognize, meeting new ones. It’s the expected chatter:

“Oh, you’re so much taller than the last time I saw you, Troy.”

“What year did you say you were?”

“Are you still playing football?”