Page 60 of Play For Me

“I’m always weird,” I shoot back, and Em glowers at me. She doesn’t like it when I’m self-deprecating.

“I mean, you’re being all quiet. Broody.”

I raise an eyebrow at her. “A, we’re studying. We’re supposed to be quiet. And B, I’m always broody.”

“He is,” Jay agrees from the recliner where he’s sprawled, supposedly reading his Trig notes, his feet sticking out over the chair’s arms. “Quiet and broody is totally Sol’s thing.”

Em turns to glare at him. “Can you sit normally in a chair for five minutes? You’re not a toddler.”

“I’m comfortable,” he shoots back. “If you’re going to make me study for hours on end, I’m going to be comfortable.”

“No one is making you study,” I tell him. “We just said thatweneeded to study and you decided to join us.”

“Well, what else was I going to do?” he asks. “It’s boring when you’re both busy. You know I’m not good at entertaining myself.”

I look at Em over the piles of books and notebooks on my dining table. She rolls her eyes at me and I grin. It wouldn’t be a cozy Sunday if the Miller siblings weren’t arguing about something.

Jay manages to last another fifteen minutes before boredom gets a hold of him. “I like it better when we do our Sunday studying at The Daily Grind. At least they have food. I’mstarving.”

“There’s an energy bar in my purse.”

Jay makes a gagging noise. “Those things taste like cardboard. And they have a bunch of like, seeds and stuff in them.”

“They’re healthy,” Em says, not lifting her head from the book in front of her.

Jay sighs. “You and your healthy shit.”

“We can’t all exist on a diet of Doritos and Mountain Dew, Jason.”

He groans. “Well now I want Doritos.”

“Then go get Doritos,” her voice is getting tight, the way it sounds when she’s annoyed—usually at Jay.

“Sol, can I take your car?”

“The last time I let you drive my car you left a half-eaten sucker on the console and I got ants,” I remind him.

He pretends he didn’t hear me. “Em, can I take your car?”

“No. Because the last time I let you drivemycar, it got dented by a shopping cart.”

“That was not my fault.”

“You have two legs,” Em says. “You are perfectly capable of walking to the store.”

“It’s like, three miles away!”

Em slams her hand down on her book, apparently reaching her limit of patience. “It’s not even a half mile away. Either go and get your snacks or shut the hell up. Some of us have work to do.”

He grumbles something under his breath as he climbs out of the recliner, but I know he won’t actually challenge her now that she’s legit mad. I’ve never met someone who enjoyed annoyinghis sister as much as Jay—but he’s also completely terrified of her. His life is a constant balancing act of bugging her just enough to not get his ass kicked.

He moves slowly, putting on his shoes and pulling a hoodie over his head at a glacial pace, like he’s hoping one of us will feel bad and offer up our car. No one takes the bait and a few moments later, he’s dragged himself out the door.

As soon as he’s gone, Em surprises me by putting down her pen and folding her hands on top of her notebook. She fixes a serious gaze on me, and I shift in my seat, uncomfortable.

“What is this?” I gesture at her. “You look like you’re playing lawyer.”

“I want to talk to you.”