From my perch on the bed, I can’t see the staircase, but the annoyance on Connor’s face is obvious. “I thought Drew made it clear, no girlfriends invited,” he scolds to his unsuspecting teammate.
The guy laughs. “It’s a little late for that, Vining. Unless you wanna be the one to tell the cheerleading squad to leave. Drew’s already too wrapped up in Madison Pruitt to do it himself.” A girl’s voice joins in on the laughter now.
Connor mumbles under his breath. “Well, this isn’t a hotel, Henley. Nobody comes upstairs. Got it?”
“Whatever you say, man,” Henley replies before their shadows turn and head back down the stairs.
Connor returns to his spot in my doorway. “I hate your brother.”
I giggle. “You love my brother.”
“Two things can be true at once.”
I take another bite as the sound of screeching chairs andshattered glass rises over the pulsing music downstairs. Connor and I both go on high alert.
“You know what? Grab your shoes. Let’s go.” The decision is made as he pulls his keys from his pocket and instructs me to follow him.
I slide on my tennis shoes, grab a hoodie from my closet and follow my brother’s best friend down the stairs, out the side door and straight to his car without anyone seeing me.
When he gets settled in the driver’s seat, he keeps the car in park as he types out a series of texts on his phone. Thewhooshsound of each one cuts the silence inside the car. After what feels like several minutes of waiting for him to finish, I finally ask him what the heck he’s doing.
He sends off one final message and hands his phone to me, saying, “See for yourself,” before putting the car in gear and heading down our driveway.
His thread with my brother is at the top of his screen.
Connor
I’m getting your sister out of the house for a while. I’ll bring her back by midnight. You need to get things under control.
Drew
I know, V. I’m sorry. I’ll take care of things here and make sure everyone’s gone by the time you get back.
Thanks for looking out for Gretch.
The next is a message sent to the team group chat where Connor lectures them on making good choices and respecting my family’s property. A few not-so-subtle reminders about the playoffs in a few weeks brought on a slew of thumbs up emojis andaye-aye-Caps.
Fifteen minutes later, we pull into the parking lot of the movie theater, the bright lights from the marquis illuminating the pavement outside the entrance. Before I can say a word, Connor unbuckles and climbs out of the car, forcing me to follow suit.
Inside the lobby, the screen behind the ticket counter displays all the available showtimes. Connor looks at the clock on his phone. “Would you look at that, Fish?”
“What?” I ask as I scan the screen above me.
“Pitch Perfectstarts in ten minutes.”
I jerk my head his direction and he slaps me with a goofy grin. My arrangement with my brother is all but forgotten because the only thing better than seeingPitch Perfecttomorrow is seeing it tonight.
“Do you think you can keep this secret from your parents? I’d like to stay on their good side.”
My smile is instant, but falters a moment later. “I don’t have any money, though.”
He waves his hand like he’s swatting a fly. “My treat.”
Connor fits his palm on the top of my head and jostles my hair as he nudges me to the ticket counter.
At the concession stand I order peanut butter M&Ms and Connor tries really hard to convince me that the peanut ones are better.
When we get backto my house a few minutes before midnight, Connor breathes a sigh of relief at the now empty driveway except for Drew’s car.
