“I don’t blame you for that.”
“Maybe not. But you are a part of this family just as much as he is. And I think I forgot that for a little while.”
He nods slowly. “Just don’t let Izzie forget that, okay? Because she will, if she’s not reminded.”
“I’m really glad you followed Tyson home that day.”
He grins at me, wide and bright. “Me too.”
I’M HALFWAY up the stairs when my phone goes off in my pocket. There’s a text from Creed when I pull it out.
He’s here. And he feels like shit. Want me to make his life miserable?
No, I type back. Then, Well, maybe a little.
Consider it done. I bought JJ a guitar. He’s terrible. I’ll make him play for his uncle.
That’s harsh. Keep him there for a little bit. I’ll text you.
The jazz blasting from Izzie’s room has been turned down a bit, and I hope that’s a good sign. I knock on the door and wait.
I hear voices inside whispering back and forth, and it’s only a moment before the door opens, a furious-looking Tyson standing in front of me, arms crossed over his chest.
“Is that your intimidating pose?” I ask him. “Because it needs a little work. Ask your boyfriend how it should really look.”
“Otter’s a jerk,” he says hotly.
“And you know as well as I do that he didn’t mean it.”
He deflates a little at that. “Yeah, yeah. But he’s still a jerk.”
“I probably wasn’t helping things.”
“Are you guys getting divorced?”
I laugh. “No. What the hell.”
“It needed to be asked.”
“Did it?”
“I told Izzie that if you did, we’d get two Christmases.”
“You really need to stop listening to JJ.”
“I’m mad at you. Izzie is too.”
“You are not my spokesperson,” I hear our sister say from somewhere in the room. “Like I would ever allow someone who doesn’t eat meat to speak
for me. You are an embarrassment to humanity.”
I’m a little relieved to hear that she doesn’t sound too upset.
Ty glares over his shoulder. “Right, because advocating murder is better than—”
“Did you know that PETA is responsible for killing almost fifteen hundred animals in 2015? And almost thirty-five thousand since they started being tracked in 1998. I would think if anyone wants to discuss murder, we should start there.”
The Kid lets out a strangled noise. “You know I’ve distanced myself from them! And why are you googling those statistics? You are a little girl. You should be collecting stickers or talking about boys.”