Page 100 of Shine For Me

June

It’s pathetic, but I can’t stop the little rush of hope that goes through me when my phone beeps. It’s the same stupid, blind hope I’ve felt every time my phone made a noise all week. Maybe this time it’s him.

But it’s not. It never is.

I blink down at the message on the screen, trying to make sense of it.

Grey:What’s the whiskey situation at your house?

Me:I don’t have whiskey at my house. Why?

Grey:That’s what I thought. I’ll stop on the way.

I wait for more clarification but none comes.

Me:On your way where?

Grey:To your house. Jesus, Junie, keep up.

Hot tears sting my eyes as I read his words over and over. My brother should not be coming to my house. My brother has a photoshoot for one of his endorsement deals in New York this weekend. But the words on the screen remain the same no matter how many times I read them. And a few minutes later, there’s a buzzing at my gate.

“How are you here?” I ask the second he walks through my front door, his arms weighed down by shopping bags. “You have the Hugo Boss shoot this weekend.”

“They rescheduled it for me,” he says, like it’s no big deal to take chances with a multi-million-dollar endorsement deal. My twin holds up the shopping bags. “Do you still like to stuff your face when you’re sad?”

I promptly burst into tears.

My brother sighs loudly enough for me to hear it through my sobs. There’s a rustling as he sets the bags down, then his arms come around me. “Come on, Junie. Don’t cry. You know I hate that shit.”

“I’m sorry,” I sob. “But you’rehere. And I’m…I’m such a fucking mess, Grey.”

“So we’ll clean it up,” he says, like it’s really that simple. “Now stop blubbering, please. This shirt is Armani and it cost five hundred dollars.”

I laugh as I pull away. “Heaven forbid I fuck up your shirt.”

“Right?” he gives a mock shudder. “Go sit down. I’ll get glasses.”

A few minutes later I’m curled up on my couch holding a glass of whiskey in one hand and a glazed donut in the other. It’s a weird combination, but also somehow exactly what I need right now. And it’s really funny to watch the disgusted look on my brother’s face as he forces down his donut. He probably hasn’t had refined carbs in years.

“Jimmy threatened to send the press to Mom,” I blurt out. “That’s why I took those pictures with Adam.”

“I know,” he says, his voice tight. “I talked to Jude.”

I raise an eyebrow—I didn’t think Grey ever talked to Jude.

“I should have heard it from you, June. You get that, right? That it sucks that you didn’t call me?”

I blink at him. “I didn’t…I didn’t think about it.” Then I wince, because telling your twin you didn’t think to call him when your life fell apart is a pretty shitty way of repaying him for flying cross country to see you.

“I imagine that’s my fault.”

“Why would it be your fault, Grey?”

His expression remains flat. “I’m not the warmest person.”

“You just flew across the country to cheer me up.”

He eyes me over his whiskey glass. “I didn’t come just to cheer you up. I came so we can figure out what we’re going to do about this shit, once and for all.”