Page 99 of The Other Brother

Shit.

It’s like a game of freeze tag where we’re all frozen in position, staring at each other.

I don’t want to berate my mother for coming into my room without knocking. Because it would confirm the suspicion that’s currently running rampant all over her face.

I recover first. “You’re home early.”

“I finished early today.” Mum’s eyes dart between Cody and me.

“Did you want something?” I ask.

Mum clears her throat. “I was just checking to see if you had any dirty clothes. I’m about to throw in a load of laundry.”

“Um… I should have some.”

I hunt out my dirty socks that have somehow found their way under my bed.

“These should probably come with a health hazard label,” Mum jokes as I hand them over. But her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, and she continues to stand there watching us before retreating. She leaves the door wide open and I don’t hear her footsteps, which means she’s hovering in the hallway.

Cody’s got his freaked-out face on. “I better get going.”

“I’ll walk you out, make sure you don’t steal anything,” I say.

When we emerge from my room, Mum makes like she’s just heading down the stairs now.

We follow her down. Cody makes a beeline for the front door.

“Bye,” he says to Mum’s back.

“Bye, Cody,” her voice is polite.

On the doorstep Cody turns to me, biting his lower lip. Which sucks, because all I can think of now is how I want to be nibbling on it. But I’m sure Mum will be watching out the window right now.

“Do you think she saw?”

I don’t want to lie to him. But I don’t want to add to his freak out.

“Maybe,” I say.

“Shit.”

“Don’t stress. There’s nothing we can do about it now.”

“It just seems dangerous for your parents to know. What if they say something to my parents?”

“Yeah, because our parents confide everything in each other. They’re besties like that.”

Cody’s eyebrows draw together. “Message me and let me know if she says anything, okay?”

“Okay.”

I watch him climb into his car and drive away.

When I head back inside, Mum comes out of the laundry carrying an empty basket.

“You survived the fumes then,” I say.

“Yeah.” She sets the basket down on the table then fixes me with a look.