In the morning, Ethan showered in my bathroom while I made pancakes for breakfast. Olivia was still asleep. My phone buzzed on the counter, and I grabbed it immediately.

West: Did you make it home OK?

My stomach tingled. I tapped out a response. Safe and sound. You?

West: Nope. Texting you from "the other side." Heaven's 4G sucks.

I sat down at the table, smiling so wide I feared he might sense it through the phone. Heaven, huh? Now I know you're lying.

West: LOL. Did you have fun last night?

Me: I had a great time. Thanks again for the drinks.

West: Don't mention it. Let me know what you hear about your car this week.

Me: I will.

Ethan walked out of my room, rubbing his head with a towel in one hand and reading a piece of paper he was holding in the other. I got up to flip the pancakes on the griddle pan.

My phone buzzed again as I crossed the kitchen. How about we run into each other on purpose sometime soon? Have lunch, maybe?

A quiet squeal slipped out before I could stop it. I bit my lower lip and leaned against the counter.

Ethan sat down behind me. "You OK?"

"I'm fine," I said, suppressing the urge to stamp my feet with joy.

I re-read West's message a few times before working up the nerve to reply. "Be cool, Lucy."

Me: Lunch would be great. Let me know when.

West: I'm working downtown a few days this week. Once I know what my schedule will be, I'll text you.

Me: Awesome. Can't wait.

I groaned, wishing I hadn't typed "Awesome."

"Sis?"

When I looked up from my phone, I smelled the smoke rising off the griddle before I saw it. "Crap!" I grabbed the spatula and flipped the pancakes. They were charred. With a heavy sigh, I turned the pan over above the trashcan, letting our blackened breakfast slide into the garbage.

I turned to look at my brother. "Sorry."

He smiled and draped the towel around his neck. "Distracted this morning?"

"A little." I noticed the roller derby flyer on the table in front of him. "Ethan! What were you doing in my purse?"

He squished his mouth over to one side. "Looking for gas money."

I snatched the flyer off the table.

"I didn't take anything," he said, holding his hands up in defense.

"Because there wasn't any money in there to take," I said.

"Are you seriously thinking about playing roller derby?" he asked, pointing to the flyer in my hand.

I looked down at it. "I don't know. Maybe." I put it on the counter and retrieved the box of pancake mix from the pantry.

"You're the most accident-prone person I know." He got up and pulled a banana off the bunch from the fruit basket on the counter. "Now you want to play a full-contact sport on roller skates?"

I put my hands on my hips. "I'm not accident prone."

He peeled his banana. "You knocked out your two front teeth playing musical chairs in the first grade."

I frowned as I measured out another cup of the dry mix and dumped it in the glass bowl. "That game is dangerous. Erin Tucker dove headfirst into me. Not my fault." I mixed in three-quarters of a cup of water and stirred.

"In high school, you dislocated your arm trying to tighten your bra strap."

Fighting a smile, I poured four evenly spaced puddles of batter onto the hot griddle. "That was a long time ago."

"Last Christmas Eve at Uncle Matt's house, you broke two ribs coughing."

"I was choking!"

He pointed at me. "On your own spit!"

We both burst out laughing.

He picked up the flyer again and dangled it in front of my face. "This may be the dumbest idea you've ever had."

I flipped the pancakes over. They were golden brown. "I didn't say it was a sure thing. I'm just thinking about it."

"Well, don't think about it too seriously. I kinda need you around," he said, taking another huge bite of his banana.

I glared at him. "You kinda need my money and my couch."

He grinned. "You love me."

I scooped up the four perfect pancakes and dropped them on a plate for him. "You'd better be glad."

***

Britches Get Stitches is coming March 29th!