Page 7 of When We Were Young

“I gotta pee. Is the bathroom working again, or do I have to go outside like be⁠—”

“Please tell me that when I have to pee, I don’t have to go outside.” The worry in Georgie’s voice is notable.

Heath smiles at her. “C’mon, G. You’ve peed outside before...”

“First of all, that was supposed to be our secret. Second, that time was an absolute necessity.”

“Settle down, everyone. The bathroom is working,” Henry says. He pauses and looks around the room. “This place will get there. It’s just gonna take a little time.”

Nostalgia floods my brain, so I stand and walk to the bathroom, the sounds of my brothers discussing the state of the cabin fading the farther I get from them.

Years ago, after buying the many acres of land the cabin sits on, Dad started fixing it up whenever there was spare time and money. He had big plans for this place. Both of those were tough to come by with five growing boys. Some of my best memories are from when Dad would bring us boys here for camping trips.

We’d usually start outside in a tent, but end up sleeping in here on the floor with a fire going in the fireplace. We were rugged little boys, and we didn’t care about the musty smell back then. Heck, we still don’t care that it lingers a bit.

This place was Dad’s dream. It reminds us of him, and it’s become a symbol of brotherhood and unity since we hang out here regularly.

When I return from using the restroom, all four of my brothers are at the table, and Georgie’s alone on the couch. I walk over and sit next to her. She gives me a sidelong glance.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“I think it’s pretty obvious. I’m trying to read over your shoulder to see what we’re reading.”

“We’re?” she asks, amusement in her voice.

“Yeah, I’ll read it with you.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” Her face reddens.

“Why?”

“I mean, some scenes can get a little risqué.”

“Okay, so yeah, that does creep me out a little bit, seeing as you’re my brother’s best friend and you’re only sixteen. Are you even allowed to read these kinds of books yet?”

She rolls her eyes and slowly shakes her head with faux annoyance.

“I’m almost seventeen, and it’s stupid to censor what people read⁠—”

“Whoa, whoa. I’m not trying to censor you. Though I’m wondering if there are any that don’t have sex in them that we could read. You know, like a buddy read.”

She fixes her gaze on me with narrowed eyes and watches me for several long seconds.

“Okay, if you’re serious, I can shoot you the name of a book tomorrow, and we can get started. Does that work for you?”

I suspect she thinks I’ll back down. I won’t.

“Yep. Works for me.”

“All right, sounds good.” Georgie grins at me. “But could you get away from me right now? Because this book is not something I want you to see.”

She giggles, and I smile at her.

I stand. “I’ll let you get back to your love story.” I use dramatic air quotes when I say love story.

“You’re such a dork,” she teases.

She tugs on my pant leg before I can walk away.