And then, we’ll see.
Chapter Six
A few hours later, I rap my knuckles on Austin’s closed bedroom door. Both of our rooms are on one side of the house while our parents’ master suite is located on the other. We could probably get murdered in the middle of the night and they wouldn’t hear a thing. It’s a disconcerting thought. I grew up in the cramped quarters of a tiny house in the city where we were always on top of each other, so to have all this space feels luxurious.
More amazing than that, we both have our own private bathrooms. Like the rest of the house, they’re well appointed. Both boast jetted tubs and walk-in showers!
Do you have any idea what it’s like to share a bathroom with your brother?
In a word—disgusting.
Now that he shaves, there’s always a dusting of hair on the countertop and around the toilet, making it resemble a Chia Pet. And his aim hasn’t always been the best. I won’t even mention how many times I’ve fallen into the toilet during the night because he forgets to put down the seat.
So a private bathroom all to myself?
Yes, please!
I might not be ready to admit it out loud, but the list of positives keeps growing one amazing feature at a time. Which brings me to the heated pool in the backyard. Not only is there a rock formation waterfall, there’s a stone hot tub attached to the pool!
It’s totally crazy!
I didn’t notice it earlier, but all the houses on our side of the subdivision butt up against an eighteen-hole golf course so we don’t have neighbors in the rear. In Chicago, houses are built side-by-side on tiny postage stamp sized yards, which make it feel like they’re sitting on top of each other. I could stand with my hand on the side of our brick house and practically touch our neighbor. So all this space is amazing.
And the air smells so fresh and clean. It’s a mix of pine trees and wildflowers. I kind of like that as well. I don’t miss choking on car fumes and the aroma of takeout food that permeates the air from the Indian restaurant on the corner of our block.
When Austin doesn’t answer, I knock louder before pushing open the door and peeking inside. Like mine, his room has already been set up with a queen-sized bed and dresser. There are a few antique pieces that remain. It’s a mix of old and new furniture.
Austin lies stretched out on his bed with his arms folded behind him. His head rests on stacked hands as he stares at the tray ceiling. He’s so zoned out that he doesn’t notice when I walk in.
I wave a hand in front of his face to get his attention. When his gaze slides to mine, I ask, “You want to run out and pick up a few school supplies?”
If we were still in Chicago, we wouldn’t be going back until after Labor Day. But here, school starts tomorrow, three weeks early. Our parents had assumed that Hawthorne Prep (yup, it’s also named after our family) was on the same schedule as our old school. Turns out that’s not the case.
Austin’s green eyes flicker to mine before he shakes his head. “Nah.”
Ugh. I hate when he gets all moody. “Come on, Aus,” I cajole, “don’t you want to explore a little?”
“Explore what?” he asks with a sneer. “That sad ass excuse for a town? Hard pass.”
I settle on the bed next to him. “I know this sucks—”
“It’s more than that,” he snaps. “This ruins everything.”
“You’re right, it does.” My shoulders slump under the heavy weight of his words. It’s hard not to acknowledge the truth.
His face contorts with a mixture of rage and bitterness. “The old bat should have hung on for a year instead of fucking up my life.”
Ouch. I wince at the uncharitable sentiment.
“Maybe it won’t be so bad here. I mean, think about it. How much competition could there be for the quarterback position? You’ve been playing football since you were four years old. You’ve done a bazillion of camps and clinics. Not to mention all the agility training. It’s like you said earlier, we’re in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. How could these kids possibly be as skilled as you are? Have you ever considered the possibility that they might be thrilled to have such a talented player join their team?”
It’s now official. I’ve become my mother.
I can almost see the words circling through his head as he considers the merit of them.
“I don’t know,” he begrudgingly admits. “Do you really think that will happen?”
“Definitely.” I hoist my smile, relieved that I could lift his spirits even a fraction. It’s better than the sad bastard impersonation he’s been doing for the last two months. I was less than thrilled to be thrown abruptly into school tomorrow, but maybe it’s for the best. Maybe then Austin will see that he won’t have any problems fitting in with the team. I can deal with this move being difficult for me, but I need it to go smoothly for my brother.