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“Yeah, I know how to do it,” I say, taking it from him.
Seth goes quiet and watches as I walk back and forth between the cars, clipping the cables in all the right spots. Pluses and minuses. Smiles and dimples.
Once I’m finished, he starts his engine and returns to stand by me and my car. Silence fills the cold space, interrupted only by the occasional sounds of traffic outside or the crack of thunder in the distance.
Despite my best efforts, I glance at Seth. He didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to stop to help me and yet, here he is. He definitely didn’t have to come to my defense at lunch, either.
My big brother. My enemy, sometimes. But always my big brother.
I clear my throat. “You know, freshman win prizes at the Art Fest every year,” I say.
Seth looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, I know,” he says.
“There’s, like... whole categories just for freshman artists.”
“And he was being an ass, so I made that shit up to help you out.”
“I don’t need your help, okay? I can handle Dad by myself.”
“Okay! Fine.” He sidles a step away. “Next time I won’t bother.”
“Never bothered before.”
Seth doesn’t respond. His shoulder sink even further as he flexes his jaw and looks at my engine again.
I bite down as guilt seeps in. “Thank you, though,” I murmur. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.” He nods with a hidden smirk. “You’re welcome, little sister.”
His little sister. An enemy, sometimes. But always his little sister.
“This battery die on you a lot?” he asks.
“Once or twice.”
“Seems like you’ve really got this down,” he says, admiring my cable work.
“Yeah, well...” I hesitate to say his name. “Drew taught me how to do it, so...”
Seth pauses. “He did, huh?” he asks after a moment.
I nod.
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other with his head down. Then he finally looks at me and sighs. “Did you love him?” he asks.
“Yes,” I answer, without thinking “I do.”
Seth leans forward and places his hands on my car. His head bows beneath the hood, but I can see the sharp furrow of his brow as his face screws up and he grits his teeth.
“Seth?” I ask. “You okay?”
He shakes his head. He taps his fingers. He makes a quiet, pained sound as I inch a little closer. Was that a growl?
With a grunt, he pushes off. I startle backward as he spins toward his truck and hops up into the driver’s seat. The engine turns off and he bounds back over, yanking the cables off our cars as he passes them.
I glower. “Seth, what the hell?”
He slams my hood. “Get in the truck,” he says.
