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In three … two … I fuse lass of water dumped on my head My predictions aren’t science, but they’re damn near close to it

“You can fuck off, Anders” He stor his diva-like exit

“You too, Kade …” Or is it Kale? Eh, can’t remember

I grab the napkin off the table and wipe my face and shirt All in all, not an overly bad breakup There’s been worse

Taking e to my brother

You owe me, asshole Coast is clear

Not thirty seconds later, the real Anders sits in the seat across from me, and I don’t have to say a word

“Law, don’t start I’ you dinner to make up for it”

“Are you also going to give me your shirt?” I nod at his nice, dry, blue T-shirt

“Uh, no”

“And seriously? You told him you were twenty-three?”

“We could totally pass for twenty-three”

“You have to stop with the hyperactive twinks,too much”

Anders winces “Straight dudes aren’t allowed to say twinks”

“Sure, we are And thanks to doing your dirty work, I’ay by association, so I’m definitely allowed to say it This has to be the last tiuys for you”

My brother is the uy you’d ever meet, except when it comes to conflict He can flirt with anyone—which he shaet up in front of a roo a sweat But one-on-one, talking about the real stuff, he turns into a bu with it isn’t the answer, and I know I’, but I don’t have much of a choice in the matter I don’t want to cut him off and cause a setback

Anders hangs his head and speaks low “It’s easier this way”

“Have you thought about going back to counselling—”

“Lawson …”

“Anderson,” I mimic back “I’m done Hoould you deal with this if you didn’t have a twin brother? I’round this tiave him this speech