I want to make it better for her. I want to go to college and get a kickass high-paying job, so I can help her out more than I’ll ever be able to around here. It’s not like our house is big or anything—just a three-bedroom, one bath—but it still costs a lot to keep it going with one income. I know it’s hard on her.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Lucy whines.

“We were just about to make dinner.” Kingston hops up with a grin on his face because he’s always willing to help. He knows how hard it is for my mom, and never once has he complained or given me a hard time about having to do household chores or cook.

“Bless you, boys,” Mom says as she runs a hand over Lucy’s hair. I hate that I can feel how tired she is from here as she leans her head back against the couch, holding Lucy tight to her.

Kingston and I head into the kitchen, grabbing the ingredients for spaghetti, which we’ve made together a lot. It’s hard to fuck up spaghetti, and we aren’t chefs by any means. But it’s Lucy’s favorite meal, and it’s quick and easy.

I feel his eyes on me the entire time we cook, like he has so many things he wants to say. God, I hope none of them actually come out of his mouth. Once he gets an idea in his head, though, he’s stuck with it. But I’m still hoping logic will kick in on this one and he’ll talk himself out of it.

It’s not a good plan, Kingston.

Thankfully, he doesn’t bring it up again. We all eat together, then Mom leaves for the tavern. Kingston and I put Lucy to bed, each of us reading her a story. And while Kingston could have been talked into reading her another one, the tough, mean brother—a.k.a. me—said that was enough and kissed her goodnight before closing her door. Then Kingston and I head to my room.

He lies down on my bed, and I grab my backpack. “You have homework, I’m sure.”

“Fuck homework,” he says so effortlessly, it makes my eyes roll. I still have a fond smile on my lips.

“So, about this new plan . . .”

“What?” I look over at him in horror, but he’s totally calm, just lying on my bed.

“The plan. To fool around a little. Operation Get Camden Some Gay Practice and Make Sure Kingston Doesn’t Suck at Sex.”

“That’s not a thing,” I say blankly, standing at my desk and staring at him with fear coursing through my veins.

“Oh, come on, Camden. You know this is a great plan. How often do I come up with plans?”