Page 103 of Hate Me Like You Mean It

“Alice, honey, can you tell us what’s happening tonight?” my mom asked.

This was when I noticed my dad and his old signature beard, a college-aged Adrien, a spry-looking, caneless Gampy, and averygrumpy Dominic all standing in the background, looking comically annoyed.

“Louder, honey, I don’t think the camera caught that.”

“I’m going on a date!” I announced with a wide smile, my chin held up while my fingers fiddled restlessly with my friendship bracelet—a gift from my new best friend, Rachel Jones.

“Adate?” Mom gasped with feigned, glee-filled shock. “My little girl? Withwho?”

Hellraiser grumbled something incoherent in the background, earning himself a hair-ruffle and “shush” from Gampy.

“His name is Finley.”

“And?” Mom pushed.

“And he’s gonna have my foot on his scrawny little chicken neck if he touches—ow!” Gampy wasn’t nearly as gentle with Adrien. Pinched his arm hard enough to draw out a prolonged hiss.

This interaction should have made Dominic snort, especially at that age, but he barely seemed to notice. His eyes were on the floor, fists shoved into his pockets as I prattled on about whichIce Agemovie we were going to watch.

The longer I talked, the lower his posture seemed to sink. Rosie threw a couple of glances at him over her shoulder when she thought she was out of the frame, and while she did smile throughout the video, it felt wooden.

I’d had no idea.

After Dad and I made our exit, the camera panned back to Gampy, Adrien, and Dominic. Rosie exchanged a look with my mom, who was still behind the camera, before embracing herson and pressing a warm, comforting kiss to the crown of his head.

Adrien cleared his throat, addressing Dominic. “You want to grab some candy and playFIFAor something?”

I couldn’t make out Dominic’s mumbled response, but it wasn’t the resounding “holy crap, yes” I would’ve expected, given how much he’d idolized my brother back then.

“I was gonna go out, but now I don’t feel like it,” Adrien responded. “I’d kind of rather hang out here with you.”

How did that not make Dominic jump ten feet in the air? Adrien had just offered him everything he could’ve wanted at that age.

“You’re what?” Rosie asked, petting his unruly curls. I didn’t even realize he’d said anything; his head was tucked so low now. “You’re tired? Okay, well, why don’t we put on a…”

The recording cut off.

“To be clear, I did not cry,” Dom jested lightly, bumping my shoulder with his, “regardless of what my mother may claim when you see her.”

Another video started to play.

“Adrien, turn that thing off,” Rosie snapped at the camera before turning her unhappy attention to her son. Judging by the red-coated spatula in her hand and spotty apron, she’d stopped cooking dinner to have this conversation. It must’ve been bad.

The Hellion was in his muddied soccer uniform, looking huffy with frustrated indignation. “It was an accident! How many times do I have to say it!”

“Dom, super quick, can you explain to the camera what happened?” Adrien’s elated voice interjected from the background. Rosie threatened him with a look that would’ve been lethal had she not been trying so hard to swallow her smile.

Dominic, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to redeem himself and set things straight, turned to the camera to pleadhis case. “I kicked a kid at soccer today, and I’m suspended and grounded, even though I said a thousand times it was an accident!”

“Which kid?”

Dominic’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. “Finley.”

“And who is he? How do we know him?”

Dom glanced sideways. Shrugged.

“Is it the same little shithead that made Alice cry?”