And just like that, he was nudging me back with a big grin on his face. The corners of his deep-set eyes crinkled. “I bet your skin looks raw, huh?”

Just at his mention of raw-looking skin, that crease between the balls of my feet and toes started doing this weird itchy-burn sensation I’d become familiar with. I’d been smothering my feet in cream for two weeks and changing my socks twice a day per Mason’s instructions. What no one tells you in those athlete’s foot commercials is how long those creams take to work.

“Sucking ass” just barely began to describe the experience.

“It happens to everyone,” Sacha added when I didn’t respond immediately.

I snickered, remembering the last time I’d heard those exact same words. “I’m pretty sure Mason has said the same thing about having The Clap.”

The laugh that exploded out of him in response was so unexpected that I jumped a little at first.

It was so infectious it made me snort.

“That is… that’s absolutely not true,” Sacha snickered in between bouts of clear, loud sounds of enjoyment.

“That’s Mase for you.”

He slapped a long-fingered hand over his mouth as he laughed. “I thought I heard him say last week something like ‘it’s all fun and games until someone gets crabs.’ But I thought I imagined it.”

Oh god. I burst out laughing just as loud as he’d been going at it a few moments ago. “Yeah, that sounds like something he would say.”

His head tipped down enough so that our eyes met. Very intently, he asked, “Is he serious or does—”

“Oh, he’s serious most of the time. I went with him to a free clinic when we were seniors because he’d gotten crabs from a girl on the drill team.” It had been our secret until he got drunk one night and told everyone willing to listen about his previously itchy privates. I’m pretty sure the staff had assumed I’d given them to him but who knows.

Sacha’s mouth gaped in amusement for a second before he stopped abruptly in front of a storefront. “The restaurant is in here.” He gestured toward a glass door to our right, opening it and waving me inside.

The small restaurant was homey with burgundy walls, round black vinyl-covered tables and a counter directly in front of the door with a menu mounted above it, written in chalk. There wasn’t anyone in line and I took my time looking at the various items listed for that day. Sacha stood next to me, deciding what to get as well. After a couple of minutes, an older lady in an apron and a hairnet made her way out of the kitchen and took our orders.

With our drinks in hand—some tea drink for Sacha and water for me—we took a seat at one of the empty picnic tables.

My unexpected eating buddy took a sip of the yellow drink in a clear red cup and raised his eyebrows. “You’ve known Mason for a long time then?”

“I’ve known him and Gordo since I was five. We all grew up together,” I explained. “They’re like the brothers I never wanted.”

He smiled. “But you and Eli really are brother and sister?”

“Oh yeah. He likes to say he shoved me out of the way to come out first.”

Sacha blinked. “No shit? You two really are twins?”

I knew he hadn’t believed me! Then again, most people didn’t. My brother had more physical traits in common with Bigfoot than he did with me. “Yup.”

He still made a face that said he wasn’t entirely convinced. “But he’s twice your size.”

Twice my size. I could give him a hug for being such a terrific liar. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure he tried to eat me in the womb.”