phone is dead—which means that at least I can put off worrying about texting Adam for the next couple of hours. “Come on. Let’s go pick up the preteen terror.”
Seth is a dark smudge against his parents’ white minivan, sitting on the bumper, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black jeans. Even his shoes are more muted than usual—brown leather work boots that make him look like a lumberjack. He grunts as we walk up, and then he slides into the driver’s seat, not bothering to say hello, and practically vibrates with annoyance as Mel chatters on in the front seat about how cool the party was last night and how she hopes we liked Killian because she thinks we’ll all be hanging out with him a lot this summer, wink, wink.
I see Seth’s shoulders tense and I kick the back of Mel’s seat. Seth, of course, has no idea Mel means she hopes I hook up with Killian. I don’t know for sure if Mel has noticed that Seth’s feelings toward her seem to have changed, but things are definitely weird between them right now. It’s like they’re two magnets constantly switching polarity, sometimes irresistibly drawn together and other times forcing themselves apart.
Mel’s car is tucked out of sight on the side of the road, still covered in early morning dew. “Thanks, Seth,” she says, and leans over to ruffle his hair. “You’re the best.” He flinches.
“See you later,” I say, and slide out of the backseat.
He pulls away the second I close the car door, his tires spitting up gravel as the wheels spin before gaining traction.
“What are you doing, Mel?” I ask, unable to stop myself from saying something even though I’m terrified of hearing the answer. The way Seth looked at her during the parade, the amount of time they’ve been spending together, the way she flirts with him—it seems like they’re right on the edge of getting together. But then she’ll make some comment about Killian being the hottest thing since sriracha and treat Seth like he exists only for her amusement. I don’t get it.
“What?” She gives me a blank look.
I study her and finally shake my head, unsure how to broach the subject without making it sound like I’m accusing her of leading Seth on. “Never mind.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Oh. Hi.” Jeffrey turns away as soon as he opens the front door, which is about ten feet tall and sports an enormous brass knocker that could have originally come from a medieval castle. It’s like we’re breaching a fortress of affluence.
“Nice to see you too,” I say, pushing past him into the foyer, Mel trailing behind me. With a five-year age gap between us, Jeffrey has always been just enough younger than I am to be truly annoying without being quite young enough to be cute. I remember watching Seth and his brother, Luke, across the street, building tree forts together and shooting baskets in their driveway, and feeling jealous that Jeffrey and I didn’t have that kind of relationship. But Luke was diagnosed with cancer when he was eleven and Seth was ten, and Seth’s world collapsed when he died. I don’t know if he’ll ever get over it. The black clothes, the amount of time he spends home, alone, practicing piano, his creative genius persona—I wonder how much of it is really him, and how much is a tough-guy act.
A pang of guilt hits me as Jeffrey swipes his too-long hair out of his eyes. I’m the big sister—I should try harder, make things better between us.
“Wow,” Mel murmurs, taking in the sparkling wood floors, pristine white furniture, and spectacular views of Lake Michigan that my dad is so proud of, although of course it’s Lila’s money that pays for it all. “This place gets better every time I see it.”
“Take a picture if you need to,” I say. “We’re leaving soon.”
“I’ll get my stuff.” Jeffrey heads down to the finished basement, which is where he prefers to sleep when he stays over here.
I follow the sound of obnoxious game show music to the kitchen, where my dad is leaning over the granite counter, eating a piece of toast with jam. He’s almost scarily skinny, his hair clipped and combed neatly, his shirt freshly ironed—still playing the perfect, nice-guy husband role for Lila. I’ve never heard him raise his voice in this house, which is pretty impressive considering that when he lived with us, it felt like he spent half his