My cousins snicker and I rub the egg I know is already forming on the back of my head.
"Sorry, Mama," I growl.
Thank God, she moves back to the kitchen, where I can hear all my aunts and sisters and female cousins laughing and screeching. Lala always fit in perfectly. She was usually the one who brought me my game beers, and sometimes she even perched on the edge of my chair and watched the fight, commenting coolly now and then so she could soak up the approving smiles of the other guys.
I have no idea if Evan would fit in, and I don't really want to find out. I want her to be separate from this part of my life. I want Evan to be all mine. And I don't want my family passing judgment or making comparisons.
I count down until the fight is over, then all through dinner. It's so loud and chaotic at the table, nobody notices how quiet I am. Except Benelli. She parks herself at my side, all ninety-eight intimidating pounds of relentless sister, and, just like I thought, Lala called and outed me, which puts Benelli in high gear.
"Lala was pretty upset last night." Her voice is low, her eyes on her pecsenye, this traditional pork dish every girl in my family learns how to make when she's in, like, kindergarten.
I wonder if Evan cooks.
"Winch?" My sister's voice interrupts my thoughts. "She said you were with some girl from town."
I scoop up a big mouthful of food so I can get my anger under control before I answer. My sister's long, girly eyelashes bat fast, making those blue eyes of hers look all wide and innocent, and I want to tell her that she can save herself the trouble of attempting to use them on me. We've been close since we were kids, and I know every damn trick in her book. None of them work on me anymore.
"I have no idea how Lala noticed anything. She spent the night dry-humping some professor."
This time when Benelli's eyes go wide, it's because I shocked her, not because she's trying to manipulate me.
But Lala and my sister have some kind of girl treaty going. She brushes her hair back behind her ears and dives in for another round.
"She misses you, Winch. She knows she messed up, and she wants to make things right. I don't understand how a few weeks ago you could have been so in love with her, and now, over nothing, she's just cut out of your life?" Benelli grabs my hand and squeezes it hard, all her sharp little glittery rings biting into my skin. "You guys are meant for each other. Don't give up on what you had."
I shove my plate away, my already crappy appetite completely gone.
"You have no idea what the hell Lala and I had. And what we had is over anyway, permanently. No questions."
I'd excuse myself, but there are too many damn people here for me to make a scene, so I sit it out while Benelli alternates between scowling at me and texting under the table.
Good. Maybe she's telling Lala I'm an asshole and she should keep her distance.
As soon as I can, I grab my keys and start to head out. My dad stops me with one strong hand on my shoulder.
"You headed by the shop? I need something out of the safe."
"I can go if you need."
That's what I'm officially around for.
Whatever anyone needs.
I move to the driveway and my dad follows, I know so he can sneak a cigarette while my mother’s busy cleaning up after dinner.
My father was always a giant in my eyes. Now I have two inches on him and his sagging stomach slows him down a little. It's not as bad as the feeling I get when I'm around my brother, but I hate that the giants of my youth are shrinking.
He squints at me. "Look, I don't want to nag at you. Your mother does enough of that, God bless her. Is everything alright?"
I nod. "Everything's fine," I lie.
"If you were thinking about getting a ring for Lala, use my guy on Bleak. He's got a hard nose, but he owes me a favor." My father rubs his hand over his chin in thought. "If you need a raise--"
I hold a hand up. "No, it's fine. Lala and I aren't together."
I've said it so many times, everyone should be pretty clear on it, but, for some reason, no one seems to hear what I say.
"You aren't together today." My dad chuckles, the crows feet next to his blue eyes deeper than I remember them being. "Young love, boy, it's a funny thing. Your mother is the single best thing that ever happened to me. I hope..."
His voice goes low, and he leans so close I can smell the smoky cling of the Marlboro he snuck before dinner. "Just, look what not having a woman's touch has done to Remington. Boys will be boys for so long, but men need women to make a full life. Lala is a good girl, she's got her priorities straight, she fits in, she's loyal to you. She'll make you happy in the long run, and that's what really matters. Don't wait too long, or someone else will scoop her up."
There's no point in arguing. I nod along, ask my dad what he needs me to get, and head out. Now that I'm on an errand, I can take my sweet time and no one will bug me.
I text Evan, but don't get a reply. I'm in and out of my father's shop in a few minutes, and I'm only a few streets over from her, so I circle her block.
The lights in her house are all out except one of the upstairs windows. I wonder if she's out, which would make sense, since
