“I need you to pick me up,” I say. “Now.”

“What’s going on?” he asks. “I’m in a meeting.”

“Thomas, we both know you don’t have a job, so get your dick out of whatever mediocre vagina it’s inside of and come over here. Now.”

He laughs and then says, “Hold on,” to someone in the background, and I smile, briefly forgetting my current conundrum, at the confirmation that I am correct. “I’ll be there in fifteen,” he says.

“Hurry,” I say, then hang up.

I put on my baby-blue Juicy tracksuit and start pacing outside my building. It is hot, and I quickly break a sweat. Sweating feels right. I need to rid myself of toxins. I am filled with impurity. I think about going to confession, divulging my sins. Jesus loves sinners.

I continue pacing and sweating until Thomas rolls up.

“What now?” he asks out the window. “Did your high school friend expose you?”

“Worse,” I say, then jump in the car.

And I tell him everything.

When I get to the big reveal, his reaction is completely inappropriate. He laughs hysterically and can’t seem to stop. “I can’t believe you thought Beau Rubidoux, my former cokedealer, was a French aristocrat. He screams suburban try-hard.”

“He is my brother!” I scream at Thomas. “I fucked my brother!”

He keeps laughing. “I can’t believe you had a crush on that dweeb,” he says. Tears are streaming down his face, he is laughing so hard. I know he is just jealous. “I imagine his dick would taste like Flamin’ Hot Cheetos.”

“Why the fuck are you fantasizing about what his dick tastes like?”

“I’m not fantasizing about Beau Rubidoux.” He is still laughing, wiping tears from his face. “That’s you, honey.”

“His name is Bo Webster,” I said. “Bo as in B-O.”

“Of course it is,” he says. “Named for his signature scent.”

“I need you to drive me to Riverside,” I say, ignoring Thomas’s dumb joke.

He is still wiping tears from his face.

My phone lights up with a text.

“Speak of the Cheeto,” Thomas says.

“Fuck you,” I say. I position my phone so he can’t see it. “Just drive.”

I open the text: I’m sorry things were so weird earlier. Beau, or Bo, is still typing. I had an amazing time last night.

I put my phone down.

“What’s lover boy saying?” Thomas asks.

“Can you get over your seething jealousy for one second and be a friend?”

Thomas merges onto the 101.

“I just found out the love of my life is my brother.”

“Love of your life?” he asks. Then he starts laughing again. “I always knew you were a little wacko, Em, but I had no idea the extent of it.”

I punch him hard on the arm and the car swerves. The car behind us honks.