Bruno spread a towel on a nearby chair and laid himself out like a five-course meal. His skin was so slick, I could skate a quarter over it. Or my teeth. I sat on the edge of the pool with my legs dangling in the water as you got in.
“You don’t like Bruno?”
“No, he’s fine. I’m just in a funk.” At least you hadn’t called him your boyfriend. Or your fiancé.
“Why is that?”
“I don’t know. AP exams, SAT prep… the grind don’t stop.”
You nodded sympathetically. “It’s a stressful time. You have to relax, though. You’re brilliant, and you work very hard. Are you still looking at the University of Miami for college?”
I shot you a suspicious look. Were you trying to get rid of me? Bruno lived in London, and if the two of you got serious…
“You’re not thinking of moving away, are you?” My heart seized with panic.
“No, of course not.”
I lifted your sunglasses and studied your eyes. We’d agreed a long time ago not to lie or keep secrets, but I suspected neither of us were completely honest. I wasn’t, that’s for sure.
“I’d never leave you,” you said and squeezed my leg reassuringly.
“Promise?” I felt like a little kid having to ask you.
“Yes, Vincent. I promise.”
I nodded, suddenly overwhelmed with relief. You moved as if you were going to hug me, but I ducked under your embrace and submerged myself fully in the water. When I came up, I grabbed the inflatable donut and tucked myself inside of it with my arms and legs hanging out and the brim of my cap hiding my eyes.
I acted like I was zoning out, but really, I was cataloging the conversation between you and Bruno. You spoke to each other like old friends. Or long-lost lovers. But there was some topic the both of you were avoiding talking about in front of me. It was a dip in your tone of voice, and a pause, and then one of you would start up again on another subject entirely.
And there was something about your voices, the way they rose and fell—a chuckle here, a murmur there—that sounded so familiar. As if I’d grown up listening to the two of you converse.
But no, Bruno said himself he hadn’t seen me since I was very young. It must be the heat causing me to imagine things.
My unfortunate conclusion was that you liked Bruno, a lot, and I was being selfish to try and hoard all of your love and attention for myself. Still, I hated the idea of having to share you.
You were mine.
I assumed you’d met Bruno because of your shared love of ballet. The Miami City Ballet gave you season tickets because of your generosity in donating to their dance school, and you usually brought me along with you to performances.
From a young age, I was enthralled by the dancers. So light on their feet and so ethereal, as I imagined the erosborn of Mater’s stories to be with their talent for all things sensual. I’d loved the ballet performances so much that I attended classes for a couple of years when I was little. I’d enjoyed them, but I much preferred Aikido and fencing, probably because it was similar to ballet, only with weapons.
Now, the ballet was a chance to dress up and share in something we were both passionate about. I’d made peace with the fact that you and Bruno were smashing, and I was looking forward to seeing him perform. Since our initial meeting at the pool, we’d hung out a few more times. We were getting along better—he was actually pretty hilarious—but I was still keeping a close eye on him. If he hurt you, I’d destroy him. At least, that’s what I told myself.
You picked me up a couple of hours before Bruno’s performance so we could go to dinner, both of us in smart-looking tuxes like a couple of double agents. You were handsome in whatever you wore, but there was something about seeing you in a suit. You opened my car door for me, and I tried not to notice the way your broad shoulders filled out your suit jacket or the way your pants hugged your muscular thighs. Those were not things I should notice, because you were my brother.
Well, half.
“You look very nice, Vincent,” you said and reached across the car console to flick my carefully styled hair. I dodged you a second too