Page 35 of On His Schedule
She nods. “It never changes. I can always make sense of it.”
My eyebrows raise. Fuck, that’s deep. Maybe even a little sad. I look down at her again, but she’s staring forward.
“Why are you walking with me?” she asks.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and answer simply, “I need to talk to Gianna.”
“But you never come over.”
I swallow, feeling my phone vibrate again. “Yeah, and it’s my senior year before I enter the draft, so I need to make the most of it. I feel shitty that I’ve only come over a handful of times.”
“Wait,” she says. “You’ve come over before?”
I nod. “You weren’t ever there.” And now that I’ve said that aloud, I’m sure my sister has kept her in the dark about my past with her friends.
“Oh.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket as we keep walking.
Bricker (S&C):Lift moved to 7am sat.Bricker (S&C):Don’t be late.Me:Got it.
I pocket it. “Sorry. Hockey thing.”
She smiles at me, and she’s holding onto her bag against her chest tightly. We turn the corner onto Main. The Vietnamese place is open. The smell of broth hits the corner.
“This is where I live,” she says, like we hadn’t just accomplished that I’ve been over.
I nod. “I recognize it.”
She unlocks the downstairs door. The stairwell is narrow. I keep my hands at my sides on the way up. She unlocks the apartment door at the top and pushes it open.
“Where is my sister?” I mutter, stepping inside.
I can hear her — there’s music, low, and the sound of dishes. Gianna turns around, and her face rearranges.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she says, turning off the sink. She looks at Lucy, and then back at me. “Are you here to hang out with Lucy?”
“No,” Lucy and I say in unison.
Gianna looks between us like she doesn’t believe it. “No, Benson. You cannot be walking her home.” She wipes her hands on her pants and sighs. “Are you freaking kidding me? See, there’s a reason I didn’t––”
“Relax, G. I wanted to ask you about Mom’s birthday.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of a freaking text message?” Gianna scoffs.
“You know I suck at texting.”
She squints at me. I have lost every stare down I have ever had with my sister, and I am not going to win this one.
“Fine. Are you hungry?”
I smile at the offer. “Starving.”
“Great.” Gianna looks over at Lucy walking into her bedroom, and then starts muttering to herself under her Camdenth.
The apartment is small and warm. Gianna goes back to the sink, and I stand in the middle of the room, taking it all in. There’s a photo on the bookshelf of Gianna’s high schoolgraduation. I’m in it, in a Camden U hoodie, making her laugh. There’s a photo on the small table by the door. That one is family Thanksgiving three years ago. Mom and Dad on the couch, me and G on the floor, the dog photobombing. I walk to the fridge, looking at the photo on it. It’s me in my Camden U Wolves jersey mid-laugh with G under my arm. It’s been on this fridge for, I’m guessing, a while because of the amount of oil it’s collecting.
“Why do you have pictures of me?” I ask.
