For a minute the words didn’t make sense and then a fierce blast of jealousy punched at my guts. “What?”
“Oh come on, you haven’t noticed how gorgeous she is?”
“Of course I have. But Lia’s always been gorgeous.”
He squinted up at the sun. “Yeah, but she was a kid. Now . . .”
“She’s only fourteen.”
“Old enough.”
“Old enough for what?” My voice sounded like a cold hiss, even in my own head. I scratched my bare stomach, feigning nonchalance.
Cole’s smile was slow and knowing. “Old enough to kiss.”
“Lia’s never been kissed before.”
“How do you know?”
“I just . . . fucking do,” I sputtered. Or I figured. Who would she be kissing? I suddenly felt mildly panicked as if I hadn’t been paying enough attention and someone had wormed his way past me and gotten to my Lia. My Lia? Maybe I’d taken it for granted that she’d just always be there, and all I needed to do was wait for her to grow up a little bit.
“Are you interested in Lia, Pres?” he asked casually.
“Yeah. But she’s too young now. I just . . .” I was waiting for her. I’ve always been waiting for her. I ran my hand through my hair. I wasn’t just . . . interested, didn’t just think she was pretty. It was more than that. I didn’t know how to voice my feelings for Lia, even to my brother. The emotions inside me felt too big to put into words.
“We’re going to college next year,” Cole said. “Time is of the essence.” He gave me an easy grin, the one the girls apparently lost their minds over.
Someday, I’m going to leave here . . .
Only, Cole was right. We were the ones who were going away. But I hadn’t decided on the location—how near or far—and it’d always just been a given that I’d be back. I’d be back for Lia. Oh God, I’d stupidly assumed I had time . . . that waiting was the right thing to do. Maybe I’d been wrong. No, I’d definitely been wrong.
“But, what about Shayna?” I asked, the mild panic I’d felt a few moments ago, blooming inside me.
Cole shrugged. “There’s nothing serious between us. We’re only having some fun.”
“Is that what Lia would be to you? Fun?”
“You know she means more to me than that.” Yeah. Yeah, I did and that’s what made this unexpected turn of events so incredibly awful. “I’d wait for the timing to be right,” he added. Right timing? No timing was right for him to move in on Lia. I stared at him for a moment, a red cloud filling my brain.
“But, I—”
“Hey, if you’re interested, too, let’s race for her,” Cole suggested.
“Race for her?”
“Yeah, a foot race like we used to have when we were in track. Winner earns first dibs on Lia.”
“She’s not a prize to be won, Cole. Why don’t we both ask her out and let her choose.”
“How can she choose? She cares about us both, and we’re identical twins for Christ’s sake. Let’s make it easy for her.”
I stared at him, noting the pleased look in his eye, the happy-go-lucky expression on his face, the easy way he carried himself. We were identical twins, but we were about as different as two people could be. And that might be the problem. If Lia had to choose between us, wouldn’t she choose Cole? I paused, a sick feeling of certainty squeezing my guts. Of course she would. Oh fuck, of course she would. They had so much in common. Cole was funny and outgoing and made everyone laugh. People just naturally flocked to Cole. They always had. God, I should be happy he’d left it to a foot race. I could win in a foot race. If Cole had his sights on Lia, this might be my only chance.
“Okay.”
He nodded. “Same track as usual?”
I nodded back. When we’d been younger, our dad had taken us out in his pickup truck and measured the distance on two different back roads with a thick growth of forest in the middle, that met in the same spot, each ending at the mailbox at the end of our road. They were the same distance. Cole and I would each take one, not knowing the other’s pace until we came around the bend and spotted the mailbox. It had taught us not to use the other runners’ paces to determine our own, to simply picture the finish line and get there as quickly as we possibly could. We’d been really good and had beaten all kinds of records in middle school. But we’d moved on to other sports when we started high school and hadn’t run this route or any other for a couple of years.
“Brother oath,” Cole said, spitting in his palm and holding it out to me. I looked down at his outstretched hand. We hadn’t done this for years either. I supposed it spoke to the importance of the match we were about to enter into. Could I do this, though? Bet on the only chance I might have to make Lia mine? I hesitated, but when Cole thrust his hand closer, I spat in mine and gripped his, the wetness of our mixed saliva creating what we’d deemed an unbreakable bond.
When we were seven, Cole and I had gotten into an argument about something and when our dad broke it up, we’d both turned away, each of us holding onto our personal grudge. Our dad had made us turn back to each other and that’s when he’d told us about the brother oath. We’d shook, promising to drop the grievance. “All right then,” our dad had said, “you’ve promised to let it go, and so you will. A man is only as good as his word.” He’d repeated it often over the years.