“Mom and Dad are at the lake.” I wasn’t keen on mentioning it, but the way I figured, it was better to get that out of the way as soon as possible. “Noah’s out on a date.”

“No! Noah dates?”

“I know,” I said, smiling. “He’s in high school now.”

“Jesus, I feel so old.” She sat on one of the stools in the kitchen.

I got two beers from the fridge, opened them, and handed her one before leaning against the counter, facing her. “You look the same.”

She raised both eyebrows. “You too.” She put her beer down. “Except you look a bit thinner, and that hair is absolutely different. I like it.”

“Pretty sure I’m not thinner.”

“You’ve become the hot brother.”

“I’ve always been the hot brother,” I said smugly, making her chuckle.

We went silent, both taking a sip at the same time.

“So, how is everyone? Is Marcy still dating Jonas?”

I shrugged.

“You don’t know? How come?”

“Emma—"

“Do you hate me?” she asked, turning serious.

“What?”

“For leaving,” she said quietly.

“I don’t hate you, Emma. I really am happy to see you.”

She looked so relieved. “Good. Go get dressed, then.”

“What?”

“We need to catch up, but we can’t do it here.”

“Why not?”

“There’s not enough alcohol. Plus, we haven’t seen each other in years, and I’m only in town for one more day.”

“So?”

“So, you’re taking me out.”

“I am?”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “Go. Get dressed; I want to go to The Den and embarrass myself in front of Lenny.”

If there was one thing anyone who’d ever met Emma O’Brian knew, it was that once she told you to do something, you did it. So, I went upstairs and changed, deciding it was better to humor her instead of staying in a house that—judging by the way she’d looked around ever since coming inside—seemed to hold nothing but memories and not all good ones. Besides, I could “not wait” for Ethan to text me pretty much anywhere.

Back when I used to routinely go to The Den, I mostly avoided it on Saturdays. It was the busiest night of the week, the one that tended to gather pretty much everyone, from high schoolers to college undergrads alike.

As we waited for the line outside the club to move, I texted Noah to let him know I’d gone out. The last time he’d come home and had trouble finding me hadn’t ended well. After almost an hour, we got inside and went straight to the bar, where we were lucky enough to find two empty stools, just at the very end of it.

“Let me guess, double vodka?” the bartender said as we sat, looking over my shoulder to see if Lenny would agree from afar.

Ulysses S. Grant made him, though.