Sam

In the second week of college, I'd caught Brandon calling his mother and telling her he missed her — initially, I'd given him shit for it, asking if he still slept with a teddy bear. The panicky "no, I sleep with your sister, ass," I'd gotten thrown my way was as good as a confession to me. I hadn't told anyone, and when he realized that, we'd started to hang out more. He was kind of nerdy, I'd thought, a mommy's boy.

It was only later that I discovered I was the weird one.

Chí's sister lived nearby and brought him containers full of home-cooked food every once in a while. His dad showed up randomly to take him to a movie in town, bringing new clothes his mother had bought for him. Ezra's parents video chatted with him every week, and he'd goof off with his kid brother until people came to see what was so funny. Brandon's mother sometimes texted him to wish him goodnight, and even though he pretended to be irritated, I knew he responded to her as soon as he thought we were all distracted.

Normal kids had parents who cared. I had two dipshit donors who visited when they were bored. They probably forgot I existed most of the time.

More than ever, I had respect for Nathan — he was only seventeen when he'd started to take responsibility for me, acting less like a brother and more like an adult in charge. When I'd reached that age myself, I'd finally seen how hard that must've been. He'd practically sacrificed his college life for me, and then I'd had the arrogance to be angry with him for moving to London. He didn't owe me anything. It was me who owed him everything.

Ever since, I'd been making sure he knew how much I appreciated that.

So today, after a five-hour drive to Palo Alto, I kicked open the kitchen door and, with a bellowing roar, charged in, right at him, not sparing any energy. He was standing by the coffee machine, placing a mug under the espresso spout, his shoulders pulled up in shock. Another rumbling cry, and I jumped on his back. He almost collapsed under my weight, groaning as I ruffled his hair. Ah, this was a good way to come home!

"Sam, what the...?"

"Aren't you happy to see me, bro?" I yelled in his ear. He tried to shake me off, and I snickered, leaping down again.

"Would've been happier if you hadn't attacked me." Although he winced, massaging his shoulder, the grin on his face said otherwise. Matching it, I wrapped my arms around him, trying to squeeze him to a pulp — it wasn't a hug, after all, it was a crush match.

Nice. If that wasn't a warm welcome, I didn't know what was. I took a step back, inspecting him from up close. Every time I returned for a holiday, I was scared of what I'd find — he might seem like a tough dude but he was far from, and he'd never lived entirely on his own before. My worries had been for nothing, though. He looked fine. In fact, he looked fantastic. Shaved, check. Haircut, check. Clean shirt, check. Bulging muscles, check. Happy smile, check. If I didn't know any better, I'd have thought he was getting some action again. "You've been swimming too much, man," I said, turning away from him to inspect the house, seeing if anything changed. But nah, it was the same as always: long wooden table, family pictures, June... "I swear, I don't get how you don't have a girl yet. You're better than ever. Oh, hi, June — June?"

It was such a normal sight to have her sit there with an empty plate in front of her, I hadn't even realized the fact she was here was kind of bizarre. She was laughing, a mischievous glint in her eyes, just like the first time we met. "Hi Sam," she said then. "I see you got over your hug phobia for good."

I didn't say a word. How could she be here? How could I not have known she would be here? When we spoke on the phone two weeks ago, she'd said she was only going to call Nathan, nothing more. And now I found her in the kitchen?

My gaze shot from her to him. While she at least shrugged apologetically, he was beaming like he'd just presented me with a new Lamborghini. How long had she been here? And why? Was she here to see me? Was this a surprise they planned together?

I took a step towards her. She rose, her long hair falling down her front, fingers digging into the side of her body. "June?" I asked again, and even I realized that must've come off as a dense question.

She smiled, though. "Hi, Sam. It's been too long, hey?"

"Yeah, it is! You look so old!"

The minute I blurted that out, I wanted to hit myself. Shit, you dickhead. You called her old. I was definitely going to get the burning eyes for this. Truth was, I wasn't even sure why I said it. It wasn't like she'd gotten taller, or like her hair had become grey, or like she had wrinkles — she was a month younger than me, after all, and I didn't feel any more mature than a twelve-year-old playing with action figures. Were there any differences at all? Not physically, at least. Some weight gain. So, why did it feel like she'd grown up without me? I couldn't pinpoint it. Didn't matter anyway, I guess.

She laughed again, exchanging a glance with Nathan. "Old?" she said, putting her hands in her side. "I'm old? Then you must be ancient."

Nathan chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Maybe it's because of the baby."

Baby? What? Had I missed something? Or someone? I threw a look past the table, to see if there was a little monster hidden somewhere in those plastic boat things with handles parents carried them around with — nothing, thank god. June with a baby. That was one way to screw up your life. I was about to say "funny joke", when it dawned on me. Her stomach. And she was here. With Nathan.

"Oh shit, man. Did you knock her up?"

For a second, both stared at me, then my brother spat out a mouthful of coffee, while June stumbled awkwardly, almost falling over, cheeks as red as the salsa she used to serve us. I couldn't decide whose reaction was more hilarious.

"No!" he said quickly, grasping the cloth from the counter and wiping at the brown stains in his shirt. "When would we have...? — Come on, Sam, of course not. She's been here five days!" Immediately, he stopped trying to clean himself up, sending a wide-eyed look to June. "Not that I — I mean, that's not why she's here. I mean—"

That was when he quit talking altogether, a good call, since he was only digging a deeper hole for himself. A pity though: his clumsy yapping was kind of entertaining. Some lawyer he was.

Something passed over June's face, and I couldn't decide what it was. "What Nathan is unsuccessfully trying to say," she said, "is that, no Sam, I did not come here to get pregnant, and I don't have a baby either. Contrary to what I made him believe when I first got here." She stared at him, completely satisfied, the mischievous glint twinkling. He grumbled something in response. Ah, she got him bad... Good to know she was still a spinner of stories — she'd fooled me so often in the past, it was about time he was the victim for once.

I snickered, and out of habit, I went in for a high five. We got it right at once, and it sent a rush through my veins, like she just activated the memory of our friendship. Before I could stop myself, I flung myself at her, smothering her in a long hug. She was so short, I'd almost forgotten about it, just like I'd almost forgotten the way her body could tense when she was caught unawares. When I let her go, she was smiling at me, though there was a sadness to it. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" I said. "I could've been there too!"

Instantly, the joy slipped away, and she lowered her gaze, as if the answer made her feel ashamed. "I had something to ask Nathan," she said. And then, looking up again: "I got accepted into Berkeley."

"Berkeley? You got into Berkeley?" She nodded, and I shook my head, feeling like I could do a thousand high-fives. "Even after the credit stuff? Ah, that's awesome, June! Really. You deserve it." A small part of me was jealous — she'd outdone me, again, gone further, again — but that wasn't fair. While she'd been studying and writing papers, I'd been on the Xbox and chasing girls, doing the minimum amount of work I could get away with. And what did I need Stanford or Berkeley for anyway? I was at my place in Pomona. She was the one who wanted more. I was pretty content with just the average life.

June had never been one to refuse a compliment, and it seemed she hadn't changed one bit. I swore, she was beaming brighter than a nuclear power plant. "Thank you," she said, obviously trying to be humble and failing hard.

Wait... Berkeley. That was really, really close. Like random-popping-by close. "Does that mean we'll be seeing you more often?"

There was the tiniest of glances in the direction of Nathan, who had conveniently turned around to rinse out the cloth. "Err," she said, clumsily pushing her hair from her face. "I don't know. Maybe. If you'd like that."

Now, girls had the tendency to call me clueless, and I guess, on some level, they were right. But even I couldn't miss the fact that she blushed again and that he was still facing the running tap, as if he needed a gallon of water to wash some coffee out of a cloth. Oh man, we had a serious case of denial going on here, didn't we? What had they been doing these past five days? The last time I'd seen the two of them in the same space, she'd been in her panties, and he'd been kissing her — how did you move on from that? Had they even brought it up, or had they been acting awkward all this time, ignoring the elephant in the room?

I looked at my brother, his back not telling me anything. Did he want to forget about it? Or had his babbling been a confession, and was all he wanted a repeat, now without me walking in on them? We'd never actually talked about it, not even about him coming back for her. Sam, I really don't care what you think — I just need to see her. What had he been planning to say to her that day? I knew he missed her, that much was clear, but was it missing as a friend, or missing as something more than that? And, what, what had exactly happened on that seventeenth birthday? At the time, I'd assumed they had sex, but later, it dawned on me they'd been wearing too many clothes for that to have happened. Ah, and I thought college was hard...

"Are you kidding me?" I said, putting my arm around her shoulders. "Would we like that? June, I haven't had decent tacos in months. You taught Nathan well, but hey, he'll never be a top chef like you."

She laughed. Only now, I realized how great it was to hear that sound, to see it before me, when the last time she'd been here, she'd been a first-class zombie. "I'm not a top chef," she said. "I'm not abuela, after all."

Finally, my brother dared to add himself to the conversation again. The pattern of brown spots on his shirt was gross. "Come on, June," he said, "if you'd asked for money for opening your own restaurant instead of for Berkeley, I wouldn't have hesitated too."

Money. She'd come for money. Well, that changed the situation. Maybe I'd misinterpreted it after all. Let's see... What were the facts? She asked him for money. She wasn't pregnant, and they didn't get busy too, if I had to believe his blabbering. Why had he been blabbering in the first place? It could be a) because he was embarrassed and would never want to, or b) because getting busy was exactly what had been on his mind this whole time and I caught him redhanded. Wait. How could I be thinking of this without being grossed out?

I didn't ever want them together, right?

Right?

There was something in the shy way she smiled, and the huge, over-exaggerated, borderline creepy grin he flashed her way, like I was watching a muted TV show and I was the only one who could read the subtitles.

What did it say exactly, though?

"Err, I'm going to the bathroom!" I said, then stormed out of the kitchen, into the hall, where I'd left my bags. Phone. Where was my phone?

I needed a translator.

Swallowing hard, I clicked on her name, for the first time in two years — well, the second time, but the other time I didn't go through with it. She would come, right?

"Hello? Sam? Are you... calling me?"

I had no idea why, but my toes tingled, and it was a freakishly nice feeling. "Hayley," I said. "I need your help. June is home."