Saturday morning, I get breakfast with Brian, who seems pretty done with my shit. I do feel bad since I’ve mostly used him as a chauffeur/chef the last few weeks and wasted all my free time with Drew. I’m leaving for California in just over a month, and I feel like I’ve lost most of my opportunity to see my brother. It’s not like Brian doesn’t have his own friends, so it’s not really my job to babysit him, but I also feel like I’ve been letting everyone in my life down recently, especially since I don’t have the answers for all the asks flooding my inbox. I feel trapped somewhere between running and being stuck, and I really just want to drown that feeling out with orange juice and syrup.

“Has Mom given you any updates about the house yet?” Brian asks.

No, she hasn’t, but it’s also my own fault because I haven’t called her in over a week. And I mean, sure, she could be the one to initiate the call, but she also knows that I’m busy with work and Drew and everything else I’m always putting before my family. It’s bad enough that I’m the worst brother ever, but now I’m the worst son too. I deserve a medal.

“You okay?” Brian asks.

And it’s pretty unfair of me to complain to him about my problems, which are nothing but my own fault, but I’m a terrible person, so I do it anyway. “I feel like I’ve been a really awful brother lately,” I say.

He raises an eyebrow. “Because you used my credit card and didn’t pay me back?”

Which, wow, okay, yeah, I did do that, but I came here to vent about my own problems, not get roasted.

I sigh, stabbing my poor French toast with my fork before saying, “Yeah, I guess. And just mooching off you in general.”

I look up to see Brian staring back at me with narrowed eyes. “Who are you, and where’s my brother?”

I roll my eyes. “Never mind, then.”

“Seriously, I don’t know why you’re getting worked up over this,” Brian says. “We’re family. It’s our job to mooch off each other.”

“Yeah, so when was the last time you mooched off me?” I ask.

He shrugs. “You’re letting yourself get too comfortable. You won’t be ready when I strike.”

I smile. “So you’re not mad at me?”

“If I was mad at you, it’d be for something more irritating. Like never setting a damn alarm in the morning.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m really annoying.”

“It’s fine,” he says. “You’ve always been annoying. Anyway, you’re welcome to hang out with Maggie and me later if you want to.”