Oh. Who? I looked at Kane, who gave me a look like Pity me because I have to live with him. “So yeah. This is Declan. My…”

The kid stopped strumming and pulled the guitar strap over his head. “Stepbro. Right, man?” He held out his hand, palm up, but Kane just stared at it.

I said, almost too eagerly, “I’ll give you some skin,” and I did. I trailed my hand over his, light enough so we were barely touching.

His hand snapped, and he made like he was shooting me with his pointer finger. “All right,” he said. His voice was so smooth, but not oily. Low already, seamless, like a man’s. Nice. “My girl.”

His girl? I had to giggle. Kane scowled at me.

I made an attempt to dig my hands into the pockets of my jean shorts but stopped after the third try. I was wearing sports shorts, without pockets. Declan noticed, because this amused smile crossed his face and his brown eyes danced. I pushed a lock of stray hair back to my ponytail. “Where are you from?”

“San Diego.”

I looked over at Kane, reading his thoughts. We called California The Land of Nuts and Honey. I could hear his voice in my head. Declan wasn’t looking at him, so Kane mouthed, Nut, and pantomimed crazy by twirling his finger by the side of his head.

“Are you…going to school with us in the fall?”

Declan studied me with these dark, almond-shaped eyes that were unlike anything I’d ever seen before. My face flamed. “Depends. What grade are you?”

“Tenth.”

“Then nope,” he said. “I’m going to be a junior. From what I hear, your high school is split into two. I’ll be in the senior building.”

He was right. Because of overcrowding, the district had to split us into two buildings that were, essentially, on the same campus but separated by a football field.

“Oh.” Not only was Declan Kane’s brother, but he was older. First. And Declan looked comfortable, even surrounded by cardboard boxes in his brand-new bedroom. No wonder Kane seemed like he wanted to punch him.

Instead, Kane grabbed my sleeve. “Come on.”

I didn’t want to. But I followed Kane, new feelings bubbling inside me. As I left, the kid started playing his guitar again, this time singing, “See you later, alligator…”

When we went downstairs, we sat in the gazebo at the back of his house. I sucked in humid air as if it were laced with a drug, feeling dazed, as if the world had shifted once again. Kane noticed and said, “What?”