“Yeah,” he blows out a breath, unbuttoning the first couple buttons on his shirt, “I had a meeting today, so they let us go early.”
“Well, that’s nice.”
He laughs humorlessly, grabbing a banana off the counter and ripping the peel off. “Only because it was too late in the day for us to get any work done.”
He devours the banana like he’s starved. “Have you eaten today?”
He shakes his head. “Let me order a pizza or something.” I grab my cellphone to look up places.
“That’d be amazing.” He leans on the counter, resting his head in his hands. “I think we should take a cooking class.”
I look up from my phone. “Sage, we can’t cook.”
“We have to learn.”
I shake my head. “How have we switched roles? We had this conversation and you shut me down because we’re likely to burn the whole building to the ground.”
“Well, I’m not expecting either of us to become the next Top Chef but we should be able to cook at least eggs. I can’t even do that right.”
I gag thinking about the gelatinous blob Sage tried to feed me this summer and called it scrambled eggs.
“How come you were against this before?”
He laughs. “Because we’re truly awful cooks. But I feel terrible that we’re living off takeout.” He straightens, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know I’m not your parent, but I am your guardian and I feel like I’m doing a piss poor job of it.”
“Sage,” I breathe. “You’re doing a great job.”
My heart breaks that my brother might think he’s not doing a proper job of providing for me. I know he’s doing the best he can and I appreciate everything he does. He didn’t have to take care of me, but he has.
His frown deepens. Sliding off the stool I walk around the counter and hug him.
His arms wrap around me and he exhales a shaky breath that stirs my hair. “I don’t want to fail you.”
“You couldn’t. Not ever. But don’t expect to be perfect. No one and nothing is.”
He releases me and I hop back onto the stool, taking a sip of the boba tea I got before Ansel dropped me off.
“Oh, you’ve been to Watchtower?” Sage asks, rolling up his sleeves.
“Yeah, Ansel took me this weekend and we stopped there before he brought me home.”
Sage stiffens, eyes narrowing.
“Ansel drove you home?”
I wipe condensation off the plastic cup. “He kind of insisted.”
“Mhmm.” His lips narrow.
“Sage,” I laugh, “seriously, you have nothing to worry about.”
“You’ve only known him a week and he’s already driving you home,” he grumbles turning to the fridge. He pulls out a can of Diet Coke and pops the top.
“He’s becoming my friend. Isn’t that what you want? For me to go to school? To make friends and be normal?”
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can I at least meet this guy? If you’re going to be hanging out with him and he’s driving you home I’d like to know him.”
“I’m sure I can make that happen.”