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I pick up my phone and type out one more message before turning the screen off and tucking it under my thigh.

Me:I miss you too

“So, who is he?” Bodhi asks knowingly.

I reach into the bag. “Who wasshe?” I counter.

Neither of us says a word.

He stares down at his lap for a minute before opening his mouth to say something when Sebastian appears at my doorway.

“What are you two doing?” my big brother asks.

My response comes easily. “Talking about your big ass head and how we hope the baby takes after Tori for her vagina’s sake.”

Bodhi chokes on his snack.

When he sees the snack on the bed, he eyes his teammate. “You shouldn’t eat that crap. We’ve got weigh in soon. Plus, my sister is territorial over her cheese puffs.”

I totally am. “Only when it comes to you touching them. You never liked these, but you’d eat them to piss me off.”

“They’re like eating cheese flavored air,” he counters, proving my point.

Bodhi chuckles. “That’s what makes them great.” He grabs a handful and shoves all of them into his mouth, making my brother sigh.

“No Tori?” I ask.

“She had to work. I told her I wanted to pop by and see if you wanted to go do something before you headed back.”

That’s nice of him. “Like egg Dad’s car?”

Bodhi perks up.

Sebastian eyes us. “No.”

“Party pooper,” I mutter under my breath.

“What about Dave and Buster’s?” Bodhi suggests. “I haven’t been in forever, and I used to kick ass at Mario Cart.”

I haven’t been to the giant arcade in a long time, and itdoessound fun. “I’m down. You can watch me kick Seb’s ass at basketball. He loves it.”

My brother scowls. “You cheat.”

“You can’t cheat at that game!” I tell him for the millionth time in exasperation. “You just suck at it. It’s okay to admit you’re not perfect at everything.”

Bodhi laughs. “Now I have to see it.”

“It’s settled then,” I say happily, scooting off the bed. “We’re going to D&B and then getting fried pickles. Oh! And we should stop at that one place we used to, Seb. The weird bodega that always smells like fish.”

Bodhi gives me a funny look. “Why would you want to go there?”

It’s my brother who answers for me. “She’s been obsessed with their corndogs since she was little. She insists they’re—”

“—the best corndogs you’ll have in your life,” I finish for my brother. “Trust me, Hoffman. You’ve never had a wiener in your mouth until you’ve tried one of theirs.”

To his credit, he laughs at the comment.

Meanwhile, my brother grumbles out an unenthused, “Let’s go then.”