The Play

10

Damian

Emily's house was warm and inviting; it felt lived in. Dark wooden furniture filled the space, and soft velvet couches made it feel extra cozy. Hardwood floors stretched beneath my feet, while family photos lined the walls. Beneath the TV, the fireplace crackled gently, adding to the welcoming atmosphere.

It wasn't a good idea to come, yet here I was—sitting on the couch alone while they sat side by side on the loveseat. Of course they did.

"We could practice our lines," Emily said.

"I'm so tired of practicing." Skylar shook his head and leaned back in the seat. "No more. Please."

"I just memorize everything," I said.

"Already?" Emily blinked.

"Yeah. I'm good at remembering—as long as I can read it once before I have to say it."

"Oh wow, my brain doesn't work that way..." She laughed. "You didn't tell me your brother was smart."

"Stepbrother," Skylar said.

"What's the difference?" she asked. "My stepbrother and I are like real family."

What was the difference? The fact that Skylar occupied a lot of my thoughts? Skylar crossed my mind more than anyone else. I hated when he got close to others or flirted... I like him. I resisted the urge to cringe. What am I thinking right now?

"Let's play Spoons," Emily said. "I'll grab a few different games too—actually, can you help me?" She looked at Skylar. He followed her upstairs.

Why did I do this to myself again? What was my plan—third wheel all night?

I sat up straight when the front door opened. A tall guy stepped in, curly brown hair and an eyebrow piercing above bright green eyes.

"Hey," he said. "Are you my sister's new friend she's always talking about? Skylar?"

"Oh, no. I'm Skylar's stepbrother—Damian. They went upstairs to grab games..." I trailed off as he sat next to me.

"I'm Jax. Sorry, I just can't leave a pretty face all alone."

"Oh, thanks," I said. Was he flirting with me?

"My pleasure..." He leaned closer. "You have freckles on your nose—cute."

I touched my nose as my face heated up. "Th-thanks. No one's told me that before."

Someone cleared their throat. Skylar and Emily stood in the entryway.

"You must be Skylar," Jax laughed.

Skylar didn't look as amused. "Who are you?"

"That's my brother," Emily said, touching his arm. My eye twitched.

She placed the board games on the coffee table.

⸻

A few hours passed before we finally left. It was fun, but a pit formed in my stomach every time Skylar and Emily were close.

I sat in the passenger seat as Skylar drove. The moon followed us, larger than usual, while warm air blasted from the vents and music played softly.

"Did Jax make you uncomfortable?" Skylar asked. "If he did, I'll say something."

It took me a second to register what he said. I shook my head. "No, no. It was sweet. I haven't had anyone flirt with me in a while." My face flushed.

"He's too old for you," he said.

"He's only two years older," I said.

"You barely know him," he said.

"Well, you barely know Emily," I said. My heart pounded in anticipation.

"What does that mean?" He glanced at me. "We're just friends."

I laughed. "Right. Whatever you say."

"What?"

"It's obvious she likes you," I laughed nervously. What am I saying? Stop talking.

He didn't respond. He knew I was right. He had to. It was quiet for seconds—minutes, maybe—but it felt like forever before he spoke again.

"I don't like her," he said.

I stared at his side profile as he drove. "Okay..." Why was it so awkward? "It's none of my business who you like, just like it isn't your business who I like." My voice came out awkward and clunky.

"Fine." He shrugged.

"Good." I crossed my arms.

When we got to Teresa's, I managed a goodbye before shutting the car door behind me.

I didn't know why I was mad; it was stupid. Skylar was worried, but he had no right. He didn't want to feed my so-called crush but had the audacity to poke into my love life? If he really didn't want me to like him, he should be as indifferent as possible. He was only making me think things, and—I groaned as I tried to steer my thoughts away.

The front door was unlocked. I pushed it open.

The kitchen was softly lit with cabinets lining the walls and an island set at the center of the room. A couple of stools were tucked beneath it. Dad sat at the island, his elbows resting on the counter as he stared down at nothing in particular, his posture tense. The quiet way he sat there made the room feel heavier, like he'd been waiting.

"Where have you been? Just because you're mad at me doesn't mean you get to run off and not tell me where you are." Dad stood up and wiped his hands on his pants.

"I told Teresa I was with Skylar."

"Teresa isn't your parent," he said. "I am. And maybe you should put distance between you and Skylar. This divorce has been hard on everyone."

"Whose fault is that?" I tilted my head. "I'm not going to stop seeing him just because you feel awkward."

"Well, Sarah called," he said. "She knows about the play."

"What about it?"

"You can't play the main leads—you're brothers."

"I'm literally a cat in the play; it's only one romantic scene—"

"It's weird," he said. "You've been living together since you were nine and ten. It doesn't look good."

I flinched. I couldn't help it. Weird—it rang in my head. It was weird. Everyone would think we were weird. They would think Skylar is weird. Skylar.

"Okay," I said. "I will quit. I... didn't even think about it." My voice was almost a whisper.

I felt disoriented as I stared at Dad nodding in agreement. I couldn't think. I turned away and headed upstairs.