“No,” he says.
“Pretty sure I just saw Mindy Drake heading toward the bar,” I say. “Isn’t it about time for you two to make up again?”
“Hilarious,” he deadpans.
“Or, who’d you leave her for? Amber Stremp? Though right now I can’t remember if you were most recently with her or her cousin, what’s her name…”
“Oh, fuck off,” Seth says, but I can tell I’m getting to him. “I can’t date around?”
“You call it dating now?” I say, getting the last steak off and shutting the grill. “That’s not the word I heard.”
“There were some misunderstandings.”
“What was it that got spray-painted on your car, again?” I ask.
Seth glares. I grin, reach out, and click my beer against his.
I drink. He glares a little more.
“Was that before or after Mindy got your name tattooed on her —”
“That’s not true,” Seth says quickly. He quits glaring at me and drinks his beer. “At least, I’m pretty sure it’s not true.”
It’s fair to say that Seth has a reputation. He’s got enough of a reputation that even though I’ve only been around for a few months, I could name at least three girls who he’s charmed and then dumped.
“I thought we agreed on casual,” he says. “Apparently that word doesn’t mean what I think it does.”
“It must be rough being a serial heartbreaker,” I tell him.
“Shut up, Eli,” he says, but there’s no heat behind it now. “Least I’m not telling my own mother I’m an alcoholic just to get out of admitting where I really am.”
Admit nothing, I tell myself. He’s bluffing.
“I’m doing no such thing,” I tell Seth. “I’m drunk. Constantly. Irreparably.”
He just raises one eyebrow.
“That is exactly the sort of thing an alcoholic would say,” he deadpans. “Always telling people how drunk they are when they’re clearly sober.”
“I can call Mindy over here if you like,” I tell him. “I think I see her over there, and she’s putting her hand on Bradley Thompson’s arm, squeezing his bicep? She’s got two margaritas in her other hand?”
“Good, he can deal with her mess,” Seth says, perfectly straight-faced. “Meanwhile, you can keep on —”
“Seth, we discussed this,” Levi’s voice suddenly says from behind me. “We were going to let Eli keep his secret.”
He steps up to us. Now we’re forming a triangle, Seth, Levi, and I, all drinking beers, standing around. Someone’s taken the last of the steaks to the buffet tables, so I’m officially free to party.
Though this is feeling less like a party and more like an inquisition.
“I don’t have a secret,” I say. “And if I did, I wouldn’t tell you two what it was, for fuck’s sake.”
“Well, I’m convinced,” Levi says, looking at Seth. “Aren’t you convinced?”
“Utterly,” says Seth. They’re both trying not to laugh. I cross my arms over my chest and keep drinking my beer, trying not to let them see how much they’re getting to me. “This man has got no secrets at all.”
Levi glances at me furtively. I ignore him, stone-faced.
“He must not be sleeping with Violet, then,” Levi says.
I choke mid-sip. Beer goes up my nose, and I have to turn away, coughing. My asshole brothers just watch me, both smiling without smiling.
They don’t know. Do they know?
I’m going to kill Daniel. And then Violet’s going to kill me.
“What are you talking about?” I finally say, once I’ve recovered. “Violet? Tulane?”
“You know another Violet?” Levi asks Seth.
“Wasn’t that the name of one of Ricky Camper’s barn cats?” Seth says. “Or was that some other color name?”
“I do believe there was a cat named Violet,” Levi answers, stroking his beard for effect. “But that was at least twenty years ago and I’m quite sure she’s passed on by now.”
“I’m not sleeping with Violet,” I say, pulling myself together. “That’s crazy. We don’t even like each other. I just see her at work, that’s all. We work together. We’re coworkers. Coworkers who work together.”
Shut up, I tell myself.
“As opposed to coworkers who sleep together?” Seth asks.
“Why would I sleep with Violet?” I ask, gesturing wildly. I try to make it sound like the thought of sex with her has literally never crossed my mind, not even once.
They’re not buying it.
“She’s pretty,” Levi says.
“She’s hot,” Seth says. “Last summer I saw her at Wilson’s Fourth of July barbecue, and she had on this bikini that really —”
“Okay, okay,” I growl, cutting him off before I have to hear any more about how hot he thinks Violet is. “Fine, she’s pretty, I’m not sleeping with her, could you just drop it?”
“That’s not your Bronco outside her house most nights?” Levi asks calmly.
I feel like he’s felled a tree on my head, only the tree is made of information.
I look my older brother dead in the eyes. I swear they’re sparkling with the sheer joy of being difficult. I try to think of an explanation about why my truck is always outside Violet’s house, and I can’t.