Tom is speaking in soothing tones on his phone and slips out the front door. “He’s going to crack,” I say as I watch him leave. “How much more can get piled on him? I’m trying to help him.”

“You’re never going to help him. Ever. You’re a monkey on his back.” Jamie hopes that hurt. When it doesn’t, he tries again. “He’s only here because I asked him to be.”

“He’s only here because I’m here.” I’ve just blurted the wrong thing, and this time Jamie doesn’t mistake what I mean. He laughs and looks me up and down like I’m nothing special.

“Who do you think you are?” He asks it sweetly. It’s those same words he used in our big fight. The words that echo in my head every time I take out the trash at the bar or open a box of fifty novelty mugs.

“Who do I think I am? I’m Darcy fucking Barrett!”

Jamie laughs now. My short charade is over, clearly. “You think you have a chance with him?”

My temper is an erupting volcano. “I do have a chance!” I point at my neck. “That’s his! He’s mine now!” It’s so satisfying, watching the air leave Jamie’s body. It’s luscious. I’ve won. “He’s mine. He loves me. I’m keeping him.”

“Keeping him,” Jamie splutters. “Keeping him? You’re sleeping with Tom? Darcy, what did we talk about?”

“You can’t stand to see me happy.”

“Oh, and Tom looks so fucking happy,” Jamie counters. “Did you at least handle the morning after like a grown up?” He sees the minute hesitation in me and swoops on it. “You just did what you always do. You enjoyed yourself, did zero feelings, and you’re going to be gone the next time a flight goes on sale.”

“Not this time I won’t.” I even surprise myself with my intensity. Jamie blinks and backs up, but he quickly rallies.

“Only because you have no passport. Ever find that thing?”

“Give. It. Back.”

“I don’t have it,” Jamie says, and he’s telling the truth. He looks out the front window, distracted. “Seriously, Darce, why’d you have to pick Tom? He’s way too good for you. You took advantage of him. He’d do whatever anyone asked him.”

“Well I asked an awful lot of him last night.”

“See? Compare yourself to him, would you? He’s nothing but good and honest and deserving of a happily-ever-after. You’re just …” Jamie racks his brain. “You’re human flotsam, you know that?”

The phrase hangs in the air like a gong.

“What did you just call me?”

Jamie recovers seamlessly. “You’re trash compared to him.”

“No. Call me what you called me the first time.” I feel like my veins are full of hot water. “You called me human flotsam. Human flotsam.” I advance on him and he begins to back away. Images of Truly’s phone flashing with repeated notifications begins to make sense. Her blush. Her averted eyes. The way she changes the subject from Jamie, every time without fail. “How? How did you get to her? Truly is your worksite mole?”

I pick up a brick and throw it at him. It hits the wall and takes a chunk out of it. Jamie bends down for a brick of his own. Now it’s on. It’s World War IV, with bricks instead of a dinner set.

“I can talk to whoever I want,” he yells back at me, and throws the brick past my hip. “I don’t have to fucking answer to you.”

“She’s mine. My friend. My best friend.”

“Well, he’s mine.” We circle around each other, furious. This is the fight that we never got to finish. A thin trickle of water runs between us but I barely register it. All I can see is my brother’s furious face, red embarrassed ears, and the sheen on his brow.

I scream in frustration. “How? Tell me how you got her. Explain it to me.” I pick up another brick and weigh it in my palm. I imagine throwing it at his face and it’s vivid. “You couldn’t just leave that one person alone. The one person I wanted all for myself.”

“She’s my friend!” Jamie roars.

“No, she’s not!” I throw the brick and it takes a devastating chunk out of the floorboard. “Just because you think you’re God’s gift to women doesn’t mean she’ll fall for it.”

That knocks some wind from his sails. I remember what he said—She thinks I’m a nightmare. “I’m telling the truth, Darcy. She’s one of my best friends. We’ve been emailing each other.” I laugh derisively at that, but Jamie silences me. “I needed a way to keep an eye on you after our fight. I emailed her from the Underswears website. She replied. I liked it.”

I advance on him with my hands outstretched. I’m going to kill him. And her. And everyone. “Jamie, you little fuckwit.”

“Stop it,” Tom says from the open doorway. He’s got his phone in his hand and a grimness in his expression. “Stop it, both of you.” He looks up. The tarp covering the hole in the roof is leaking. “I leave the room for two minutes, and this.” He sees the new damage we’ve caused and the brick in my hand. “What have you done, Darcy?”

“He knows everything. That we’re together. You’re mine, one hundred percent.”

Tom just walks to me and takes the next brick from my hand. And he doesn’t say anything.

“Well?” Jamie snaps. “Well?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Tom says. He’s cold and furious. Something inside me begins to slide.

“Just tell him that you love me, and we’re together, and we’ll go up and fix the tarp and stack the bricks. Tom, tell him.”

“I asked you for one thing. Don’t tell Jamie until the house is sold. Three months of waiting for me. But that was too much to ask.”

“I’ve waited my whole life for you.” I bite my lip. I put my hand out for him but he steps out of reach. “I’m sorry. You know what I’m like, I just—”

Tom glances at his watch. “Yeah, I know what you’re like. I asked for three months. You lasted thirty minutes.” He refuses to tell my brother that he loves me.

“Hello, I’m right here,” Jamie says sarcastically. “You wanted to lie to me?”

There’s more to this. “Shut up, Jamie. What was that phone call? What’s happened?” I step into him again.

Tom exhales and closes his eyes. “My mom is being evicted as we speak. Just … furniture and cats and she’s hysterical.”

I hate how my hands are not registering on him. “This early on a Sunday?”

“Her landlord is a jerk. I need to get there.” The anger is dulling away into a frightening flatness.

“Look,” Jamie says, flicking his eyes to mine with alarm. “We got out of hand, like we do, but we’ll fix this—”

“We’ll go now,” I interrupt Jamie urgently. “We’ll all go and—”

“Aldo was right.” Tom is looking up at the hole in the ceiling. “I’m not cut out for this. I’m not the boss. I’m the muscle.”

“You’re doing great,” Jamie and I say, practically in unison.