“You okay?” I ask him, and part of me hates that I feel the need to ask. He’s your brother, not your man. Who cares if he’s in a mood or woke up on the wrong side of the bed or whatever the fuck?

His eyes dart up to meet mine and I see a small smile pulls at his lips. “Yes Gab, fine. Just a lot on my mind.”

I’m slightly appeased by his answer and although I want to press him, I know right before my toughest exam of the semester is not the time.

“If you can’t take me—” I start and he scoffs before the sentence even leaves my mouth.

“Gab, stop.”

“I just mean, I don’t want to stress you out or if you need to be at work now…”

“What did I say?” he snaps and my eyes widen. “Stop pressing it.” He takes a long sip of his coffee and sets his empty cup down, harder than usual and I wince at this aggression. His eyes, which are still staring at his phone, widen and his nostrils flare. His lips part and I watch as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

What is his deal?

“Okay, well I’m ready when you are.”

“Great, I’ll be ready in five minutes.” He walks by me without even a glance in my direction.

The car ride is quiet, almost awkwardly so, and things are never awkward between me and James. The sky is gray, preparing for the snow they’re predicting for tomorrow, and I’m less than excited than I was before to spend the night at James’ apartment before we go home tomorrow. Especially now that he’s in some sort of mood. I hold onto hope that he’ll be in better spirits later. We move a little quicker through the salted streets and I catch a glance at James. His jaw is tight like he’s gritting his teeth and he lets out a deep breath through his nose like he’s a bull ready to charge.

“You’re so tense.” I look at his hand resting on the gear shift and part of me wants to reach for it. I want to stroke the skin and bring it to my mouth. I want to tell him everything is going to be fine and that we can work out whatever is bothering him especially if it has to do with me.

“It’s work.”

Do I believe that? “I see. Well, do you want to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

I nod. “Okay then.”

“You feel ready for your exam?” he asks and I hate the tiny glimmer of hope I feel that he asks me a question.

“Yes. Well, I think.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

I nod, not used to this lackluster praise and encouragement from him while he’s usually my biggest cheerleader. “Thanks.”