Dad asked him outright over dinner where he was going.
“Out,” Brian said, taking a bite of his sandwich.
“Out where?” Dad asked, unamused.
“I go different places,” Brian said. “I don’t understand what the big deal is. I’m always home before curfew.”
“Of course you are,” Mom said, refolding her napkin and resting it on her lap. “Your dad and I would simply like to know where you go. That’s all.”
I dipped my sandwich into a bowl of tomato bisque, allowing the crust to soak in the basil-infused juices. I waited for Brian to answer. I wanted to know where he went, too.
“I’m mostly at Danny’s house. Sometimes I meet the guys at the park.”
“Fair enough,” Mom said. She stood and carried her empty dishes into the kitchen.
Dad wasn’t convinced, and I wasn’t either. Other than Danny, his only friends were his former teammates. They’d visited less frequently since the alcohol incident, and I knew he couldn’t spend every night with Danny.
The next night, Brian claimed he was going to Danny’s house. Mom was pleased he’d volunteered the information. I decided to follow him and see if that’s where he was really headed. Our birthdays were a month away. Until I turned sixteen, I couldn’t drive or get a job; I had all the time in the world to be a pesky little sister.
Through the living room window, I watched him leave. I let him get several meters ahead before I snuck out the front door. It was dark, so I kept to the far side of the sidewalk; Brian walked in the middle of the empty street, occasionally skipping left to avoid the puddles leftover from the afternoon rain.
As I suspected, he walked right past Danny’s house. He didn’t even look at the car in the driveway or the lit bedroom window. He wasn’t going to meet Danny. But where was he going? A car pulled into the cul-de-sac, prompting Brian to move closer in my direction. I stopped and bent low behind some thorny bushes, hoping he wouldn’t see me.
He approached the clubhouse pool lot and sat on one of the cement parking bumps. He took out his phone. Was he waiting on someone to pick him up? Someone he didn’t want Mom and Dad seeing?
A few minutes later, I heard footsteps approaching from the other side of the street. I ducked behind another bramble so that no one could see me, but I still had Brian in my view. As the person drew closer, I realized it was Amber. I crouched lower; if she spotted me, she’d offer a greeting and Brian would know I’d followed him.
Since the Jeremy Gus incident, Amber and I hadn’t spent much time together. We’d been growing apart for ages, really. Amber always prioritized status. Her primary goal at school was to be popular. I didn’t think we’d speak at all if it weren’t for living so close.
Brian looked at Amber as she walked in his direction. He stood and slid his phone into his pocket.
“Is that you?” Amber asked. She must be talking to Brian. She would have seen him sitting under the bright streetlight.
“Who else would it be?” he asked.
I moved to my right to get a better view. Brian extended his hands to grab hers. Amber arched onto her toes for extra height and kissed him on the mouth. Not a friendly kiss you see fancy friends exchange. A real, grown-up kiss. The kind of kiss I’d never had. The kind of kiss I could have gone an entire lifetime without seeing Brian have.
“What the hell?” Without thinking, I darted into the street. Any worries I had about Brian disappeared. Amber and my brother? Kissing?
“Della, what are you doing here?” Brian looked genuinely startled, then his face turned furious.
“Are you two, like, dating or something?” I asked, my arms folded over my body.
“Della,” Amber said, taking a step toward me. “We wanted to tell you—”
Brian cut her off, clearly upset. “Della, what are you doing here?”
“I followed you,” I said. I wasn’t worried about Brian anymore. I was angry. Brian wasn’t hiding activities from my parents; he was hiding Amber from me.
“I told you we should have come clean,” Amber mumbled. She gave me a look of pity, but her body language suggested triumph. In Brian, my brother, Amber had finally landed her popular catch.
I turned and made the short sprint back to our house. The front door slammed, shaking the frame and disturbing my parents’ regular nightcap.
“What’s wrong?” Dad asked, putting down his glass.
“Brian isn’t over at Danny’s house,” I said, panting from both my emotions and the quick jog.
“He’s not?” Mom asked from her barstool. She stood just as Brian came in the door behind me.
“Where were you?” Dad asked immediately.
“Della shouldn’t be following me around the neighborhood,” Brian said.
“We’ll deal with that later. If you weren’t at Danny’s house, where were you?” Dad asked.
Brian exhaled. “I was with my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Mom tried to sound shocked, but the layer of delight was too thick. She was proud of Brian. Impressed.
“Since when do you have a girlfriend?” Dad asked. His tone was calm, but it had an edge.
“It’s been a few months,” Brian said, looking down. “I didn’t want to make a big deal about it.”
“You shouldn’t hide something like that from us,” Mom said.
“You shouldn’t hide anything from us,” Dad corrected.
“I don’t get it,” Mom said, walking after me. “What are you upset about?”
“Tell them who your girlfriend is, Brian,” I said.
“Amber.” Brian looked at all of us, waiting for approval.
Dad lifted his head, as though everything made sense. Why Brian had lied. Why I was upset. I wasn’t excited with Brian’s first girlfriend being my former best friend. And Mom wasn’t happy about it either.
“What?” she asked, the outrage in her voice returning. She walked toward Brian. “Amber from down the street?”
“Yes.” Brian ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s why there’s no reason
