Everyone We've Been by Sarah Everett Read Free Book Online Page A

front of my driveway.
    “What are you doing here?” I ask.
    He scratches the back of his neck. “I just kind of found myself here, I guess,” he says. “I was taking a walk. You?”
    “I live here,” I say, signaling behind me, but instead of looking at my house, his eyes travel down the length of me. Stopping at the place beneath my knee where my coat ends and my Rainbow Brite pajamas are tucked into slippers.
    “You weren’t just prowling the streets like that?” he asks, his eyes twinkling playfully. Butterflies brush the cage of my chest.
    “I certainly was not prowling,” I say, and scrunch my face up in mock offense. “Anyway, what do you have against Rainbow Brite?”
    He raises his hand in surrender. “Nothing. I’m sure she’s a very nice…person?”
    “Right. Sure you’re not following me?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him, and then my cheeks instantly warm with how flirtatious it comes out. For once, I am thankful for how quickly blood rushes to the tips of my ears when I’m embarrassed. They are currently unaffected by the cold.
    Bus Boy laughs, but before he can answer, Caleb’s car revs into the driveway, almost taking Bus Boy—who is standing closer to the center of the driveway than I am—down in the process. Bus Boy jumps out of the way, shaken. Before I have time to form words, my brother calls out his window, “Why are you standing outside, Addison?”
    “Oh my God, do you have to drive like a psychopath? And I’m
talking to someone,
” I say, waiting for him to apologize for nearly mowing a person down.
    “I was changing songs. I wasn’t even that close!” Caleb never stops his car, though, continuing to roll into the garage so that he’s yelling back at me when he says, “Can’t you talk on the phone inside?”
    Caleb doesn’t bother waiting for my response, and the garage door gurgles shut behind him.
    What?
Is he so determined to not see me that he didn’t even glance up to make sure I was all right and just assumed I was on my phone?
    “Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”
    “I’m fine,” Bus Boy says with a laugh, already back to looking unruffled.
    “That was just my asshat brother,” I explain.
    Bus Boy nods in understanding. I know a lot of siblings aren’t best friends and that my distant relationship with Caleb is probably normal. But there are so many days I wish things were different between us. That it wasn’t just the two of us, or that we had some kind of middle ground. Right now, though, I sort of want to kick him.
    “Hey, aren’t you ever cold?” I ask, noticing then that Bus Boy is not wearing winter clothes. Again. His shirt is long-sleeved but far from warm enough to be walking around in.
    “I’m not very cold,” he says.
    “It’s, like, twenty degrees,” I say, still stunned that he’s not shivering or morphing into an icicle right in front of me. Can he not afford winter clothes? He doesn’t
look
malnourished or homeless or anything. I don’t see holes in his shoes or jeans. “You can’t walk back home in that. You’ll get hypothermia.”
    “It’s really okay,” he says.
    I don’t know if I sound more like Katy or my mom.
    “You’ll get hypothermia
and die,
” I say, deciding to invoke a stronger version of their voices.
    Bus Boy laughs. A full, rich sound that makes
me
feel a little less cold. “Then I can go to Jimi Hendrix concerts.”
    “Or not. I bet you still need an invite,” I retort. Okay, I’m definitely flirting. It’s like channeling Katy a second ago has made her invade my body.
    “You know, I have a coat I can lend you,” I say, suddenly thinking of something. “Well, my brother does.”
    Caleb won’t like the idea of me lending his coat to a stranger, but it’s the least of my concerns.
    “It’s really okay,” Bus Boy is saying, his smile gone. “I’m not even that cold. And I bet it’s not my size.”
    “It’s a jacket, not a leotard,” I say, and then we both burst out laughing at the