“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” I say, brushing some dust off of his chest and belly with my hands. Then it gets … weird. I pause and stare at my fingers; he pauses and stares down at me. Then I know for a fact that I’m fucking blushing while simultaneously being disgusted with myself. This is my sister’s boyfriend. Gross. Tacky. Just … “Eww.” I somehow say it out loud even though I don’t mean to.
“Eww?” Maxx echoes, looking down at my hands. I very quickly draw them back and clear my throat.
“Anyway, you can’t blame yourself for that. Who expects to be beaten with a stick by some crazy guy?” Maxx gives me a tart smile and then leans down, reaching up and finally tousling my hair the way he’s seemed to want to since we started the hike this morning. It feels … sisterly. But that’s okay, right? It’s actually great because if he marries Maxine then I’ll be his sister-in-law.
“I’m not going to forget you said eww when you brushed my shirt off,” he begins, emerald eyes sparkling with mischief. “But also, me. I should’ve expected to be beaten with a stick. I’ve been taking Krav Maga since I was eleven.”
“Of course you have,” I murmur with a roll of my eyes. Why wouldn’t he be an expert in some sort of bad ass-y self-defense training? It makes perfect sense. “Well, then, let’s get the hell out of here before the creep comes back.”
“So,” Maxine begins, just a week later when she finally gets a chance to drive up and see me. Already, she’s declared that Oregon is much prettier than Washington. Considering the only time I’ve been to Oregon, I got attacked on a hiking trail, I’m inclined to disagree. “Do you like him or what?”
My older sister leans forward, planting her elbow on the table and grinning at me like she knows a secret. Considering both Maxx and I told her what happened over voice chat in the parking lot, I’m not sure that there’s anything to tell.
“Maxx?” I start, wondering if she’s sensed some of my creeper vibes. But I swear to you, I’d fall on a sword before I’d ever considering taking my sister’s boyfriend. Maybe if I’d met Maxx first, I’d have been into him. As things stand, he couldn’t be any more off-limits to me. Chasm on the other hand … Grr. I’m not going to think about Chasm, not right now. He’s been acting like he did before we started getting to know each other: a little distant, a little rude, a lot cocky.
My sister snorts and waves her hand dismissively, the ice cubes in her chai latte clinking as they start to melt. She pauses to stir her drink a bit.
“Not Maxx; I already know you like him or else you’d have given me an earful.” She lifts sheepish eyes up to watch me and I’m struck once again by how closely Saffron was able to match me and her other daughter, me and her parents. I look like a Banks, from my toes to my teeth to my hair. “Your stepbrother, the wannabe TikTok star.”
“Parrish?” I echo, trying and failing not to grit my teeth when I say his name. The first thing he did when he saw me limping into my room with Maxx’s arm around my waist was act concerned, helping me onto my bed and then giving Maxx a look that was damn near impossible to interpret. But as soon as Maxx left? I got the third degree from him about my hike. As if it’s any of his business. “He’s been a dick all week.”
“How come?” Maxine asks with a frown, glancing up at a young couple as they enter the café. A quick glance over my shoulder shows me what, exactly, it is that she’s smiling about. Their PDAs are off the charts. Gagging, I turn back to my sister.
“How come?” I repeat with a dry laugh. “Because he hates me.”
“Maxx thinks he likes you,” she tells me, causing me to damn near spill my mocha. Maxie pretends not to notice me blundering around with my drink as she glances casually at her phone. She wants me to call my grandparents, but I’m still annoyed. For almost two years, they knew I might not be their granddaughter? Why call the stupid hotline from that damn Netflix show then? Why couldn’t they have just let things be.
And that’s when I realize it. I’m pissed off at the Banks. Furious, even. What good did calling that number do anyone? Tess can’t get back all those years with her lost child; the Banks can’t regain the happy high school years with me they were planning on. Basically, it’s just a huge clusterfuck. Even if it was the ‘right thing’ to do, that doesn’t make me any less angry.
I swallow hard and take a sip of my drink.
“Why would Maxx think that?” I finally ask, when I realize that my sister’s going to draw this out as long as she possibly can. She grins at me, sitting up and adjusting her Life is Better in Oregon hoodie. While I’m frothing at the mouth to get home, Maxie is a full convert. She wants to stay in the Pacific Northwest for at least a few years after graduation.
“See, I knew you couldn’t resist.” She leans in toward me conspiratorially, lowering her voice like we’re still in a small town and everyone knows everyone. “He says it’s because Parrish never talks about girls—never. But yet, he can’t seem to stop talking about you.”
I can already see where this is going.
“He bitches about me to his friends you mean?” I clarify and once again, Maxine waves her hand dismissively.
“Did I say that? You inferred it. Doesn’t make it true.” Maxine sips her drink loudly and then pauses as the doors to the café open once again and she gets caught staring at yet another lovey-dovey couple. I start to turn around to confirm the source of her sudden awe.
“Just because Parrish talks about me all the time doesn’t mean he wants to shove his tongue down my throat again—” I stop talking. One, because I said the word ‘again’ and I haven’t even told Maxie about the last time my stepbrother kissed me. Also, because both Parrish and Chasm are standing right there, staring at me.
“Whoever said I didn’t want to shove my tongue down your throat again? You never asked.” Parrish deadpans the entire delivery, and to be fair, I have to give him credit for that. In reality, I’m sure I’ve just ticked him off all over again; his hands are clenched into fists on either side of his body.
For his part, Chasm just tucks his hands into the pockets of his black jeans, affecting a casual slouch and a level of disdain I’d only have ever expected from Parrish himself. He is mad at me, isn’t he? And more specifically, he’s mad at me because of Parrish. That just has to be it.
“Parrish,” I begin, rising quickly from my chair at the same moment as Maxine. “Kwang-seon.” He gives me a sharp look and a brow raise in response. “This is my sister, Maxine.” I hold out my hand to indicate her and lift my chin proudly. If either of them try to ruin this moment for me, I swear to fuck, I will do worse than curb stomp their avatars online. “Would you like to join us for coffee?”
There’s a long hesitation there before the boys look at each other, exchanging one of those silent best friend messages that make me miss Sally and Nevaeh all over again, but vastly appreciate the friends I’m making in Danyella, Lumen, and even Delphine.
“Why not?” Chasm replies finally, turning back and giving me a tight smile. “I’ll order us coffee; the three of you can chat.” He saunters off as I resist the urge to flip him off, settling back into my seat as Parrish takes the bench closest to the window, situating himself directly between me and my sister.