"So why do you sound sad?" she asked. My best friend knew me too well.
"Because I know him. From before this." I was dying to tell her and wishing it wasn't true all at the same time. "You have to promise not to tell anyone."
"The fact that you already knew him can't be worse than the fact that he's an escort, and I'm already keeping that secret," she reminded me. She was silent for a second, as if thinking through her words. "Unless you mean you've hired him before—is that it? Do you have a history of hiring escorts? Oh my God, I never would have guessed—"
"Tori?" I waited while she continued babbling about escorts, how you never really knew anyone, and how much she hated it when I kept secrets from her. "Tori!"
She finally stopped.
"Of course I've never hired him before. I grew up with him. His dad was married to my mom. His dad was Husband Number Three."
Tori made a couple of unintelligible noises, as if she was trying to speak but the words kept canceling each other out. "What? What the heck did you just say?"
"He's my stepbrother, Tor. He used to be anyway."
She took several deep breaths. "That is unfuckingbelievable. Of all the luck. Your hot escort is actually your brother. Gross."
I felt my hackles rise. "Stepbrother. And actually, he's my ex-stepbrother, so it's even more removed than that."
"So it's not gross? Or is it just less gross?" Tori asked.
Sometimes, I wasn't sure she'd actually gone to Stanford.
"No, it's not gross! It's not even less gross—it's just not gross. I mean, I don't think it is anyway. It's unfortunate. But it's not like I've done anything with him, anyway."
"You kissed him at that shoe event," Tori reminded me. "And in every other picture of you two, he has his hand on your ass."
"It's an act," I said, trying to sound superior.
"I'm pretty sure he likes having his hand there," Tori said. I could just picture her twirling her curls and giving me a you-are-so-busted look. "He does it all the time."
"He does sort of do it a lot." I didn't want to agree with her, but I wished she was right all at the same time.
"But you're not sleeping with him?" she asked, still sounding a little hopeful.
"Of course I'm not sleeping with him," I snapped. "Jesus. That's the last thing I need. Sleeping with my escort ex-stepbrother."
"But you're pretending, remember? That he's your boyfriend."
"Uh, yeah, I remember. It was my idea, wasn't it?" I asked, exasperated.
"So you could actually sleep with him. Like he's your boyfriend. It'd actually make your story tighter." She snickered. "Emphasis on tighter."
"What does the word 'tighter' have to do with anything?"
"I don't know." She giggled. "It just sounds dirty."
I shook my head and snorted. "Tori, you're gross. And I know you're smart, but you m
ake no sense. I gotta go."
"So go! But try to have fun. Try to have sex! See if you remember how—it's just like riding a bike!"
I hung up on her, disgusted. Whether I was disgusted with her or with the fact that I was actually considering what she said, I wasn't sure.
And I couldn't afford to find out.
Kyle