Dad presses his lips into a tight line and nods. He doesn’t probe. He lets me go.
The entire time I walk to the Newman Building, I think of Mars. I tell myself I’m not thinking about him, but I know better. While I’m people watching and going over notes in the front of my mind, the back of my mind is running wild with thoughts of Mars.
My brother.
The pang of pain that cuts through me is brutal. For once, I’m glad it’s cold outside because nobody can tell my cheeks and nose are red because I’m holding back tears.
I walk into the library and inhale the warm air. It smells like books, ink, and leather inside. I find a table tucked away in the back and flop down in a chair.
Just like he can read my mind, Mars texts me.
Mars: How are you?
Something so simple has me grinning from ear to ear until I remember that he’s not my boyfriend. I shouldn’t be smiling over him because we can never be together.
I tap my bottom lip with my knuckle while I stare at his name on the screen for a few seconds.
Me: I’m fine.
I’d be better if you were here.
Me: Just studying.
Trying to get my mind off you.
I’m so pathetic. My heart is racing, watching those three dots jump.
Mars: Okay. Just checking. I’ll let you study.
My heart falls flat and I bite my bottom lip to keep from crying in the library. I don’t know how I’ll ever get anything done because my head is a cluttered mess. Even though I’ve pulled out my books and notes, I can’t retain an ounce of information.
Instead of finishing my assignments, I look at pictures of Mars on my phone, picking out every little detail that’s similar about us. I wonder if he’ll move on and end up with a girl who’s prettier than me.
Someone who’s not related to him.
A flash of anger heats my ears and the warmth finds my cheeks too. I can’t stand the thought of Mars with anyone but me. I’m perfect for him. He lights up around me, and I can feel happiness pouring from him when we’re together.
Mars deserves to be happy.
Mars deserves me.
My phone buzzes again and I perk up thinking it’s him. My excitement dies when I see it’s only Mom.
Mom: Don’t stay out too long. I thought we could all go out to Giovanni’s for dinner later on.
Me: Okay. I’ll come home in an hour.
Mom: You don’t have to stop anywhere. I got you a latte.
She sends me a picture of a coffee cup from another coffee shop. A coffee shop that isn’t The Grind House. It’s her way of telling me not to stop by and see Mars, but he’s not at work today anyway.
Me: Thanks.
I don’t bother telling her that it’ll be cold and useless by the time I get home. Instead, I put my phone on silent and force myself to study and get work done.
An hour later, I’m packing my things up and heading home. I’m not sure how much sense my work makes, but I also don’t care anymore. I know enough stuff to get by and until I can climb out of this depressing-ass hole I’m in, it’ll have to do.
I check my phone no less than five times on the way home and my chest feels empty every time I don’t see Mars’s name pop up. When I get in the house, I decide to send him a picture of the sad-ass latte Mom bought me.
Me: I don’t know what the fuck this is but it’s not cookies ‘n cream.
The three dots jump immediately and it brings a smile to my face.
Mars: You’re so hard up for caffeine that you went to The Coffee Shack?
He sends laughing emojis and a small chuckle escapes me.
Me: I would never. My mom bought it for me.
The three dots jump then stop. My tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth. I should have never mentioned my mother. I wonder if Mars hates her as much as I do. After all, this shit is her fault. If she hadn’t been so hell-bent on keeping up appearances, and keeping secrets, none of this would have happened.
My heart would still be intact.
Waiting for Mars to respond is torture, so I take the top off the knockoff latte Mom got me and sniff it. The espresso is too strong. My nose crinkles at the sharp smell. I don’t even pick up any hints of chocolate.
I walk over to the sink and pour it down the drain. I’ll drink The Grind House or nothing at all.
My phone lights up and I trip over my feet to scoop it into my hands.
Mars: You should go by The Grind House tomorrow and have Martina make your drink.