“She won’t talk to me.” I throw my hands up, and pumpkin guts fly everywhere. “Flushing her pills only made her hate me more. I need to do something more drastic.”

Ben’s eyebrows go sky-high. “Pills? Not just booze?”

I nod. “I didn’t say because—”

“I understand,” Ben says.

Nate brushes goo off his hands. “We gotta tell my parents. Have an intervention—”

His face suddenly turns bland and cheery as he looks over my shoulder, toward the front room.

Nah’s with the only person I’ve ever seen her talk to at school in the month we’ve been there. The cute guy from her math class who looks like that vampire on TV.

“This is Drew,” Hannah says.

Nate, despite wearing a pink top that says Rosé All Day, still somehow manages to present as a very intimidating older brother.

My cousin pauses, knife held aloft. Drew raises his hands.

“I come in peace,” he says gravely. His eyes swivel to mine. “Mae. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Finally?” I say.

He glances at Nah, but she’s spinning off into some other galaxy, looking at one of the pumpkins with a frown. I wonder if she’s remembering I put a spell on you, Mom using a broom as a mic.

“Er.” Drew frowns, his hands digging deep into his pockets, like he’s going to find the origins of the universe down there. “Just … heard a lot about you.”

I grab my chai, take a sip. I thought they weren’t friends. I can’t believe how little I know about my sister’s life now.

Nate studies him, like Drew’s a plane with a problem. “You go to Saint Francis?”

He nods. “Senior.”

“Where are you applying?” Nate asks, which, admittedly, seems like an aggressive question.

Nah looks over her shoulder. “Is this a police interrogation?”

Drew’s eyes flick to Ben’s MIT sweatshirt. “Not applying anywhere, actually.”

“Military?” I ask. I’m trying. We could connect on that. He looks like maybe … army? Not intense enough to go marines, but you never know.

“Mae’s gonna be a naval aviator,” Ben says, smiling at me.

“So I hear.” Drew’s hands push deeper into his pockets. “That’s really cool.” He hesitates. “I’m afraid you’re oh-for-two on me, though. I’m probably gonna join the union, work on a crew. Like my dad. Or help out at my uncle’s bar.”

“Which bar?” Nate asks, as though this is going to determine everything.

“Nolan’s,” he says. “In Dorchester?”

From the look on Nate’s face, this must be a dodgy bar. But, really, his standards are quite high.

“Not everyone’s like you guys,” Hannah says, glaring at me.

“What? I didn’t—what?” I look at her, then at Ben.

Drew laughs. “It’s cool. I know it’s kind of…” He pulls off his beanie, runs his hand through his hair.