Love & Luck(58)

Here’s the thing that shouldn’t have happened this summer, not to me, not to anyone. After weeks of Cubby asking, I’d sent him a topless photo of myself. I hadn’t felt completely okay about it because one, all his joking about it had started to feel uncomfortably like pressure, and two, no matter how many times I swatted at Ian’s warning, it refused to stop buzzing in my head. I hear how he talks about girls. You don’t want to hang out with him.

But Cubby and I had been together all summer. Didn’t that mean I knew him better than Ian did? Didn’t that mean I could trust him? And besides, maybe this was how you went from secret late-night meet-ups to walking down the halls of your high school together. You took a leap of faith.

So I’d hit send. Even though my hands were shaking. Even though the buzzing in my head got even louder.

And then two days later, Ian had come home from football camp and all but thrown himself through my bedroom door, angry tears pooling in his eyes. You know what he’s been doing, right? He’s been showing everyone your photo. Why didn’t you listen to me?

I’d been too stunned to even ask what happened next, but now I knew. After Ian walked in on Cubby passing my photo around to the entire varsity team, he’d fought him. Of course he had. And then he’d gotten kicked off the football team. And the fact that I hadn’t meant to involve my brother—hadn’t meant to let my life spill over into his—didn’t matter, because that came with being family. Whether you wanted them to or not, your actions always affected the entire unit. I took a deep, shuddery breath. I needed to tell Ian why I hadn’t listened to him. The real reason. He deserved to know.

A few seconds later I heard his footsteps behind me, just like I knew I would. “Addie . . . ,” he started, but I whipped around, forcing the words out before they could retreat.

“Ian, do you know how hard it is to be your little sister?”

He froze, a searching expression moving over his face. “What do you mean? This summer excluded, I’ve always felt like we had a great friendship.”

“We have.” I shook my head, groping for the words as he slid onto the bench next to me. “What I mean is, do you know how hard it is to be Ian Bennett’s sister?”

He shook his head almost imperceptibly. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re the star of our high school. Star of the football team. The star athlete in a house filled with star athletes.” My voice wavered, and I picked a spot in the ocean to stare at, steadying my gaze. “You’re good at school, and sports, and writing . . . and of course you were right about Cubby. You were completely right. And deep down I knew it all along.”

Ian dug his hands into his hair, his face confused. “Then why—”

I cut him off again. I really needed him to listen. “Ian, I was with Cubby this summer because I wanted someone to see me. Really see me. And not just in comparison to you three.” I took a deep breath. “I just wanted to be someone other than Bennett number four—the one who’s just mediocre.”

“Mediocre?” Ian’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you felt that way?”

“Why should I have to tell you? It’s so embarrassingly obvious.” A bird hopped happily over, a french fry clamped in its beak. “And, Ian, I’m really sorry that I sent the photo, but—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up.” Ian’s hands shot into the air. “You think I’m mad at you because you sent the photo?” He looked me square in the eye, his knee bouncing. “Addie, that’s not what this is about. Sending a photo was your decision. It’s your . . . body.” We both grimaced. This was firmly out of the realm of brother-sister conversations. At least it was for us.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, blush forming on his cheeks. “I don’t know if I’m saying this the right way, but what I mean is that I wasn’t mad that you sent the photo. Your picture getting passed around the team wasn’t your fault—Cubby’s the one who did that.” He kicked at a loose pebble on the sidewalk. “I was mad that you didn’t trust me when I told you to stay away from him. I’ve been around Cubby for years. I’ve seen how he’s changed, and I just wanted to protect you.”

Tears prickled my eyes, and I leaned over, resting my elbows on my knees. The knot in my chest felt like it would never unravel. “Ian, I’m so sorry about football,” I whispered.

He exhaled slowly. “Okay, now it’s my turn to come clean on something else. I didn’t mean what I said back there in the room. I was just angry. And trying to make a point.”

I shot up quickly. “You mean you’re still on the team?”

He shook his head. “No, I am one hundred percent off the team. What I mean is that’s on me, not you.”

“So it wasn’t about the photo?”

“Well . . .” He hesitated. “I wouldn’t say that exactly. But more happened than just me confronting Cubby in the locker room. I mean, I definitely lost it that day. But it was all the other fights that put things over the edge.”

“Fights?” My head snapped up. “As in plural? How many did you get into?”

He hesitated. “I’m not really sure. And I’ll be honest, at first they were about you, guys making stupid comments to get under my skin. But then it was like I just snapped. I couldn’t handle my teammates anymore, and everything set me off. Coach kept giving me warnings and then . . .”