Chapter Twenty-Three

Zeke

“Does she still have a crush on Jaxon?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I think she’s seeing someone. Declan says she’s been denying it, but she brought him to the Halloween party, and something was definitely going on there.”

“Good for her. I always hoped Jaxon would get his head out of his ass and see that she was goo-goo eyes for him, but maybe this new guy is exactly what Brinley needs.”

“I’ve only met him once, but he seems great. Brinley seems happy.”

“And how does Jaxon feel about it?”

“He’d never admit it, but I think he’s jealous. I don’t know if it’s because Brinley might be seeing this guy or because their relationship has crumbled since the beginning of October. They don’t hang out like they used to, and I think seeing Brinley with Alex opened Jax’s eyes to the fact that they might never get back to how they used to be.”

“Alex? That’s the guy?” I nod. “What’s his full name?”

“Alex.”

“Just Alex? How are his friends supposed to give him a nickname? Are they supposed to call him Al? Like Weird Al? That’s not a fun nickname.”

“That’s what I said!” I exclaim, and suddenly, our smiles don’t seem forced. She understands me in a way no one else does. I’m definitely a mama’s boy. I always have been. And not in one of those weird mother-son relationships where the mom talks about her son like they’re gonna get married, but in the way where we’re so eerily similar, it’s sometimes scary.

She knows me better than I know myself.

I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose that.

“And what about Declan and Ember. You last told me that he was taking her on a date.”

“Yeah, he took her to this art studio and rented out the place just for them. She’s really talented, ma.” I pull out my phone to show her the picture he sent us of the painting.

“She’s definitely got a gift.”

“So, I guess they’re doing good. Cam doesn’t know, which I can tell is hard on both of them, but—”

“And what about you?”

The question surprises me. We never talk about my love life… because there’s never one to talk about.

“What about me?”

“Do you have a special girl in your life?”

“No.” It’s not technically a lie but also not the full truth. But if I told my mom about my current situation, she’d read into it when there’s no reason to. “Why?”

“You just seem happier lately.” She gives me a soft smile.

“Maybe I’m just hopeful that your next set of scans will bring good news.”

“Maybe.” Her voice trails off, but I see the look in her eye. A look I know well. A look that says, ‘We don’t have to talk about it right now, but I’ll get it out of you eventually.’

She always does.