My Best-friend's Older Brother

chapter 1

Maren and I had been close ever since I moved to California, and we'd been inseparable since. Most days were spent at her house—curled up on her bedroom floor talking for hours, raiding her kitchen late at night, or getting pulled into whatever chaos her family had going on that week.

She made me feel at home in a way I hadn't in a long time. Like I belonged there without having to ask.

And then there was her older brother, Jermajesty.

At first, he was just background noise—music drifting from behind his bedroom door, tired greetings when he came home late, the occasional teasing comment whenever Maren and I were being too loud downstairs.

But somewhere along the way, I started noticing him.

Really noticing him.

The way his voice got softer when he was tired. The way he'd lean against the kitchen counter half-awake in the mornings, curls messy from sleep, hoodie hanging loose on his frame. The way he always acted distracted until he had your full attention—and then suddenly it felt impossible to look anywhere else.

And I guess he noticed me back.

Ever since then, we'd been... seeing each other. But we're not dating, even if that's what I wanted—because if Maren ever found out I was messing around with her brother, she'd probably kill me.

So today, I left school early just to be with him.
Like always, we ended up in his car with nowhere specific to go. The radio played low while warm air rushed through the cracked windows, tossing my curls around every time he sped up. I rested my head against the window, watching the city blur past in streaks of sunlight.

But my mind wasn't really in it today. Everything felt a little off and I knew I had something on my mind.

Jermajesty glanced over at me once, then back to the road.

"You alright?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah," I said too quickly, not even convincing myself.

The silence settled back in just as fast as it left.

Jermajesty kept his eyes on the road, one hand loose on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift like he wasn't sure what to do with it.

Then he cleared his throat quietly, almost like he regretted breaking the silence.
"You hungry?" he asked, still staring ahead.

"A little."

His fingers tightened around the wheel for a second before relaxing again. "For what? I'll get you something."

"It doesn't matter," I said softly, turning my gaze back out the window. "You choose."
Eventually we ended up at a taco spot a few miles away. Nothing fancy just a small place with barely any cars in the parking lot. He parked near the back where it was quieter, the late afternoon sun pouring through the windshield.

He sat beside me in the driver's seat eating his tacos like normal, one elbow resting against the center console.

Meanwhile, I could barely focus on mine.
I just kept staring at him.
At the way his rings tapped lightly against the wrapper. The way his jaw moved when he chewed. The little crease between his brows when he noticed I'd gone quiet.

He glanced over at me and caught me immediately.
"What?" he asked, smiling a little.
The smile made my stomach twist.
"Can I talk to you about something?" I asked, my voice quieter this time.

His smile faded almost instantly.
"Okay..." he said slowly, setting his food down in his lap. "What's wrong?"

I looked down at the untouched taco in my hands, picking at the corner of the wrapper just so I didn't have to look directly at him.