He sighed. “I’m not even going to ask if you’re being serious. I know you are.”

“Completely.” I saw his bewilderment, which was mixed with a bit of frustration, and only shook my head. “Girls can be mean. You have no idea.”

“Yeah.” He raised his coffee. “Maybe I don’t. Guys aren’t that bad. There was bullying in high school, but that doesn’t really happen in college.” He amended, dipping his head low, “Unless they’re drunk and just assholes. Then it can get a whole different level of scary.” He squinted at me over the top of his coffee. “Something tells me you’d reduce them to sniveling cowards.”

I grinned. That made me feel better.

Spying a girl I knew from one of my other classes, I reached for the door. “Thank you for the coffee.”

He didn’t say anything, just watched me. This was when he would’ve thanked me for bringing his bag out, but he didn’t. I got out and glanced back to see him watching me intently. “Well.” I felt weird for some reason. “Good luck today.”

I walked away.

The coffee was good.

He had put in some cream and sugar.

I was pissing my pants.

Actually pissing as in full bladder leakage and the whole warm feeling you get at first, followed by embarrassment with shame, and then it’s just wet, sticky, and smelly. Okay, that might’ve been an exaggeration. I checked. My pants were fine, so no real pissing happened, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if some got out.

I was standing outside the concession stands. Gage was making me wait while he went into the bathroom, and not only were my roommate and her gang of two others ten feet away but also Becs and Aby from poli-sci were standing a few feet from them.

I was huddled behind a post and had a huge thing of popcorn and a big cup of soda clutched against my chest. I tried to raise them so if anyone came closer, I could shield my face.

“Clarke?”

I jumped. The air flooded with popcorn, and I didn’t have to imagine the feel of peeing my pants. I was experiencing it now, with soda. My face and shirt were drenched, and there was no warmth. There was coldness. I gritted my teeth. Too much coldness.

Casey was frowning at me. She was wearing a baggy Dulane University hoodie and tight jeans, and her auburn hair was pulled into two French braids. She was tugging on one, her head tilted to the side as she continued to assess me.

She pointed. “You spilled.”

I saw some napkins in her hand and grabbed them, using them to dab at myself. “No, shit, Sherlock.”

She only laughed. “What are you doing over here? You look like a creeping psycho.”

I almost smiled. “That’s the point. I want people to feel weird and look away.”

“You’re the only person I have ever met who wants to look like a creeping psycho.” Her hand dropped from her braid to her hip. She glanced around. “For real, what are you doing here?” Her eyes landed on the men’s restroom. The women’s was on the other side of the concession stands. “Ah. Let me guess. You’re waiting for . . .” She raked me over again, chewing the inside of her lip. “No. You’re not the type to wait for some secret hot boy. You’re waiting for your brother, right?”

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner, Vanna.”

“Ha!” But she was laughing until the color faded from her face, along with her smile. “Wait. Your brother knows about me, doesn’t he?”

I nodded, saying softly, “He’s the one who called me about it.” I tossed the last of the soda and juggled what was left of the popcorn to the side. I touched her arm, but when she jerked, I withdrew. “Sorry. I didn’t think.”

“No.” Her smile was shaky. “It’s fine. I—”

She cut off as Gage suddenly showed up. He rounded the post, an irritated scowl on his face. “Where’s the pop—” He saw Casey, and the words stopped. “Oh.” A transformation came over him. Annoyed Gage disappeared and instead soft Gage—the one who would blow on my cuts so the antibacterial ointment wouldn’t sting so badly—showed up. Technically, my injuries weren’t ever his fault, but it hadn’t mattered. My big brother took care of me. That was the guy standing in front of us. He ran a hand through his hair, saying to Casey, “I didn’t see you there.” He glanced to me, an unspoken question of what he should do.

Casey stuck her hand out, a determined look on her face.

“It’s nice to meet you, in an official capacity.” Her eyes flicked to me and back. “I had no clue Kennedy had a brother, or that you were her brother.”

“Yeah.” He put his hand in hers, treating it as if it were made of glass. “That’s my sister, proud to be related to me.”

I shot him a look.

He ignored me.

Her mouth firmed, and she pumped his hand in one forceful motion. “It feels wrong. We’ve partied together, and I didn’t know the real you.” She was forcing a cheerful tone in her voice.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat.

Gage may have sounded uncomfortable, but he wasn’t. His eyes had softened, a tenderness leaked from his voice, and if he could’ve floated forward on a magic carpet and taken her in his arms, he’d already be singing “A Whole New World.”

Casey tucked some invisible strands of her hair behind her ear. They weren’t loose. Her two braids were tight, but she was still making sure they were nice and secure. Her cheeks were blossoming with a nice, soft shade of pink, and I was about to vomit.

It was love behind the football post, not love at first sight.

“You two are obviously interested in each other.”

Gage shot me a look, hissing, “Kenz!”

Casey laughed, glancing to the ground for a second. “It’s fine.” Another impish smile tugged at her lips. “I mean, you know. Obviously. Duh. That’s why I’m even talking to Kennedy.”

“Thanks.”

She touched my hand, as if to say she was sorry, but her eyes were all for Gage. I was clueing back to the realization that this was how most girls looked at my brother.

Gage was puffing his chest out, as if he were a goddamn knight in shining armor.

I lifted the half-empty popcorn container. “Whoa. Look at that.” My acting skills sucked, but I was committed. “I have no clue how that happened. I’ll be going to refill this. And, um—”

“Okay. Yeah.” Gage touched my arm and nudged me out of the way. He stepped closer to Casey, and they were gone after that.

I could’ve done jumping jacks naked and gotten arrested, and I didn’t think they’d notice.

I went back to the concession stands, but I asked a guy if he wanted the rest of my popcorn. His eyes lit up, and it was another rendition of love at first sight, with him and the popcorn. “Hell yes.” He grabbed it before I could change my mind, and I only bought a new soda.

I was returning with it, but there was no sign of Gage or Casey. I spotted them sitting in a corner on our team’s section. Kristina, Sarah, and Laura were on the row in front of them.

I’d been rejected.

By my own brother.

“Loser.”

Wha—

No way.

I rounded, my neck stiff as Becs and Aby approached. They were dressed similar to Casey, in full Dulane University gear. The only differences were that instead of sweatshirts, they were wearing tight, long-sleeved shirts, their hair was up in high ponytails instead of braids, and they both had lots of glitter on their faces.

I asked, “Did you actually just call me that?”

They stopped and shared a confused look. “What?” Becs asked. “Shay told us to greet you like that. We thought it was an inside joke.”

“Shay did?”

She nodded.

Aby, too.

Becs frowned. “It wasn’t this whole thing where we were supposed to call you that, and you’d know immediately it was from Shay, then dissolve in laughter? It wasn’t that sort of thing?”

“No.” But goddamn. It was a good prank. “What do you want?”

Becs barked out, “You’ve grown some more teeth since the abortion discussion.”