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“That I’m an outstanding fuck.” I shrugged nonchalantly again. “Can’t help it if those are the rumours that get around.”
“Yeah, you’re a fuck alright,” Greid muttered, taking another drag like the big stoner wastoid that he was.
I eyed his lanky frame. The hint of a gut under his shirt. The empty pizza box on the coffee table.
“You ever lift anymore, bro?” My muscles automatically flexed under my shirt. “You can come with me to my gym if you want. Maybe get off your ass every now and then.”
“Fuck you. I do get off my ass. We walk Jake every day.”
I eyed him, then the lazy dog lounging at his feet. “No but seriously, do you work out at all? We’re not exactly young anymore, Grode.”
“I’m fine. Thanks,” he said woodenly, toking on his joint.
“I’m just saying, even light exercise a few times a week will increase your life expectancy. How’s your diet these days? Still eating crap? How much sugar do you eat? And salt? When’s the last time you got your blood pressure checked?”
Greid squinted, giving me an odd look. “Are you… worried about me or something?”
“Nah, nah, not worried.” I waved a hand. “Just… you should look after yourself, bro. You can’t eat whatever you want anymore, you know? Ageing is an inescapable bitch.”
“Uh…” He looked a little flustered as he glanced down at his joint. “I mean… Beryl makes sure I eat okay. Way better than I used to.”
I looked pointedly at the pizza box.
“You’re allowed to treat yourself,” Greid snapped.
“No, yeah, of course. You know what makes a great cheat snack? Almonds.” I leaned forward eagerly. “You know that almonds can improve sexual function? Better orgasms too. Plus they have a ton of antioxidants. And they can lower cholesterol.”
“Dude, I don’t—” Greid rubbed his eyes. “Why are we talking about my diet?”
“I’m just saying. You’re a total chode, but you’re still my brother. I don’t want you to, like, die prematurely or anything. Asswipe,” I added, just so he didn’t start thinking I cared or anything.
He huffed and muttered, “Whatever.”
Of all my siblings, Greid was the one I was least close with. Our bond felt almost tenuous. Like if I didn’t contact him every now and then, we’d probably never, ever speak except at family events. And we rarely spoke at them even now—not unless I cornered him and forced him to talk to me.
It kind of made me sad. And annoyed. Did he not remember me looking after him when we were kids? It wasn’t like he’d been a baby. We were the same age. Yeah, sure, I may have taken out my frustration on him every now and then, but I’d also made him dinner. Washed all his clothes. Tidied up all his and the others’ crap after they went to their rooms so Mom wouldn’t come home to a total mess.
Even if he somehow didn’t remember all of that, it didn’t explain why he barely spoke to me now. The others had teased him just as much when we were kids, and he spoke to them. Besides, that had just been… kids being boisterous. Having fun. It hadn’t been serious. He was my brother. I loved him.
“Why do you hate me?” I found myself blurting. My ears fluttered self-consciously, but I forced myself to look at him.
Greid’s mouth opened and closed a few times, his eyes wide with shock. “I… What the hell? Did you come here to talk about your new girlfriend or my diet or… that, or what?”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I said automatically, then frowned as I wiped my palms down my thighs. “And… I don’t know. The Anita thing initially, but…”
When I trailed off, Greid’s ears fluttered as he ducked his head and struck another match to relight his joint.
“I don’t hate you, Nuni,” he muttered.
“No? It sure feels like it. You barely talk to me, Greid,” I said uncomfortably. “And when you do, it always feels like you’re just… desperate to end the conversation and get away from me. What the fuck, bro? I’m your brother.”
He stared at me, then snorted. “Nuni, all you do when we talk is try and make me feel stupid.”
“What the fuck?” My head reared back in utter offence. “No I fucking don’t.”
“You still call me Grode, for fuck’s sake.”
“Oh my god, dude, that’s just a fucking nickname.”
