Page 67 of Necessary Space
“Haven’t gotten out much,” I admitted.
“Do you know where we’re going?”
“Vaguely.”
I was heading toward Santa Monica, west down Wilshire hoping some kind of restaurant that looked good would catch my eye. I finally found a modern and sleek-looking Chinese restaurant on a corner, and I pulled into the parking lot.
“Have you been here before?” Wesley asked. “You know the Chinese back home is not good.”
“I haven’t been here yet, but I also haven’t had bad Chinese since I moved.”
“I don’t even know what Chinese food is supposed to taste like.” Wes snapped off his seat belt and climbed out of the car.
He looked like he would fit in easily with the groups of people milling around the front of the restaurant and the coffee shop next door. Wes’s face lit up, taking in the lights and the sounds, and I knew there was absolutely no way he wasn’t going to end up in California. And sooner rather than later. I wanted him to finish school, our parents wanted him to finish school, but the stars in his eyes made it immediately clear the best we could hope for was a transfer and some rollover credits.
“Let’s go in.” I headed toward the front door and he trailed behind me.
Inside, the restaurant was loud with lots of shiny black surfaces and steel accessories. The chairs at the small table were far from comfortable, and I figured that was by design. The less time people stayed after eating, the faster they could turn tables, and the more money they could make.
“It’s so cool here,” Wesley enthused, taking his seat.
I hated California.
“You think so?”
“The air is like vibrating, Henny.”
I didn’t feel anything.
When the waitress came, I ordered a beer and Wesley got a Coke then went back to scanning the menu with a broad smile.
“See anything you like?”
He didn’t answer for a minute, then he snapped the menu shut and told me he wanted orange chicken. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that wasn’t authentic, but I supposed it didn’t matter. As long as my brother was having a good time, that’s what counted for me.
“So, what about the school you’re missing by being here before break?” I finally asked.
“I’m caught up on my assignments.”
“Your job?”
“PTO.” He grinned at me across the table, swirling ice around his soda with the tip of a straw.
“Mom and Dad?”
Wes batted his lashes. “Couldn’t have been happier to see me in the safe care of their darling oldest son.”
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” I asked.
“Always. Learned from the best.”
His answer sank like a stone in the pit of my stomach, because the back and forth with him felt too much like Miles. He had me on my heels from the gate, and had me so often wondering if I was as quick-witted as I’d always believed. Miles was always a step ahead of me, until today, when he’d been half a dozen behind.
“You can talk about it, you know,” Wes said. “I’m your brother, not a virgin.”
“Please don’t tell me that.”
“What?” He feigned innocence. “I’m not.”
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