13
" When he got out, I rolled my window down. “You look like you’re going to throw up.”
He grimaced, pressing a hand to his stomach. “I don’t know if it’s from this, or if I actually am sick. I think Avery got sick from the weekend. She was puking this morning when I left.”
“Avery, huh? At your place?”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t even start.”
“But you see, I have to. I have to start. Avery’s my friend. I’m hanging out with your brother. You and I are classmates. I think we can develop our friendship to the stage where I give you shit. We should even start sitting next to each other in class.”
“Don’t press your luck.”
I kept going, “It’s a natural progression. Don’t fight it, Marcus. It’s like evolution. Don’t fight evolution. You’ll never win. Mother nature is a bitch. She’s always going to win.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“How I get to give you shit. It’s an amazing experience in life, like giving birth. It’s painful for one person, but breathtaking for another. I’m the baby here. I get to feel air for the first time on my skin. Let me breathe, Marcus. Let me put my baby lungs to work and scream.”
“I swear you’re making me even sicker.”
“If you gotta puke, don’t suppress. It’s a natural body process.”
He eyed me a moment. “Did you rhyme that on purpose?”
“Maybe. Or I might be crazy?” I winked. “Or just a classy lady?”
“Stop. I’m really going to puke now.” He groaned, pressing his arm against his forehead. “I was going to tease you back about Caden, but forget it. I don’t think I have the energy to deal with your rhyming.”
“I’ve been told I’m amazing like that.”
“Who told you that?”
“Who hasn’t is the real question.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“I do that too. That’s very true.” I wondered if I should find him a bag, in case he actually was going to upchuck. "
― Tijan , Anti-Stepbrother
19
" No one said a word, and I waited a beat, then pushed forward. Screw Kevin. Screw Maggie. Screw whatever happened to them now. I went after Caden.
He didn’t have to push his way through the crowd. It automatically opened for him. Not so much for me. I was at a disadvantage, and when I ran to the parking lot, he was already in the car and peeling past me.
“HEY!” I yelled, raising my hands in the air.
He braked, a little too close for comfort, right next to me. The passenger window rolled down. “What?”
I reached for the door. “Let me in.”
His eyebrows pinched together. “Why?”
“Let me in.”
He unlocked the door.
I opened it and climbed in. “Okay. I’m with you.” I had no idea what I was doing.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m with you.” I clapped the dashboard, pointing ahead. “Whatever you’re going to do, I’m in. You seem to need a friend. You’re in luck. I could use one myself. So I’m in.”
“I’m going to get drunk and have sex.”
“Oh.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You still in?”
He was laughing now. He was still mad, but he was laughing.
For whatever reason—maybe I did want to go with him, or maybe I heard my own voice calling me boring and pathetic again—I sat back and folded my hands in my lap. “I’m in.”
He shook his head. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into..” He shifted his Land Rover into drive and started forward. “But that’s your problem, not mine.”
He careened out of the parking lot, and I fell against the door. I grabbed the oh shit handle above my head, and I had a feeling that was going to be the theme for the rest of the night: Oh, shit. "
― Tijan , Anti-Stepbrother
