That gave her pause. “Eli adores you.”

“Yeah? I get scared, sometimes. Because…you know. It wasn’t always good between us.”

She nodded.

“And I don’t really have anyone else.”

“I understand. I have a younger brother. But he…It’s not working out very well.”

We looked at each other. I didn’t say that if she wanted a sibling, she could be my sister. She didn’t say that if I wanted a larger family, I should keep her in mind. In fact, neither of us said much of anything. But everything changed.

I put the cucamelon pot on the back porch, and not only did it not bear the fruits she’d promised me, but it also stopped growing. That’s when I relinquished its care back to Rue, who by then had practically moved in. She nursed it back from the brink of death, and then I had the cutest little grape-sized gherkins to snack on, and a future sister-in-law with whom to sit on the couch for hours, doing schoolwork while she read her dry nonfiction books. Every once in a while, we’d look up, exchange a small smile, and go back to being alone, together.

A few weeks later, when Jade began looking for an apartment, she realized how little she could afford without a roommate. “I could go live with her. Do you need me to move out?” I asked my brother.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

He shook his head. “No. And neither does Rue. We enjoy having you around. She’s worried that you’ll disappear from our lives, and…maybe I am, too?”

“I wouldn’t—”

His eyebrow rose.

“—do it again.”

He laughed. “I know you can’t live with your adult brother for the rest of your life. But I’d love having you close by. Strictly for dog walking reasons.” His face was pure seriousness.

I nodded, just as solemn. “I need you close by, too. Strictly for organ donation reasons.”

“How fortuitous.” And that’s how Jade and I ended up finding an apartment five minutes away.

I never expected that Rue and Eli would ever have a destination wedding, considering her issues around socializing. But no one here will demand from her anything more than she’s willing to give. No one here is an asshole. Except maybe…

My eyes brush against the figure standing under a string of bistro lights. Immediately bounce back to the safety of the table.

“I saved you a spot next to me,” Minami tells me, and I’m grateful and relieved, like I’ve been saved from finding a seat during fifth-grade lunch period.

She holds out her arms, and I duck in for a hug. Her straight, dark hair smells like baby powder and the same zesty fragrance she was using when she first held me, at my father’s funeral. She strokes my hair behind my ears, scanning my face. There is something maternal, parental about it, but unlike being called a girl by Conor, this doesn’t make me bristle. She earned this, by teaching me how to use tampons, reading through all my college applications, talking me out of shaving my eyebrows at least twice. And if the fact that she’s Conor’s ex makes all of this weird, I’d rather not think about it. “You look tired,” she says.