Unbelievable. I wish I had his ability to look the other way and not worry about things. He knew he would figure it out—or someone would figure it out for him—before it got too serious.

“Yeah, because owing Dad money is your biggest problem.”

“I didn’t kill anyone, okay? It was your standard bar fight.”

I laughed. I could feel his magic working. I was starting to feel almost okay about his arrest, and the ink on his paperwork wasn’t even dry yet.

“How did you manage to get into a bar? We’re not twenty-one for another month.”

This time, it was his turn to be amused. “You’re not serious.”

“Yes, I am!” But I was joking, sort of.

There was this thin line between me worrying about my brother and just wanting to have fun with him. I was by no means a stickler, or super-responsible, but I was light-years ahead of my twin. The difference was incredibly noticeable. I was the worrier and he was the free spirit. Only in this case was I like our dad.

I knew my loser uncle was taking Austin to bars with his gross older friends, probably introducing him to women who downed too much alcohol, wore too much makeup, had too much experience . . . too much everything.

“You’re a worrier. You and Dad.”

I groaned. I didn’t want to worry. I didn’t want to be the nagging older-by-six-minutes sister. And I certainly didn’t want to be anything like my dad.

“Don’t lump me in with Dad. Come on. I don’t want you to be in trouble. That’s all.”

I was almost home.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to mess up this bright future of mine.” It was meant to be funny, but a hint of sadness filtered through.

“Do you want to come over tonight? I miss you.”

“I can’t tonight. I’m meeting up with someone. But tomorrow? And Dad and Estelle are going to Atlanta for a few days, leaving on Saturday, so I’ll have the house to myself.”

“House party!” I laughed at the memory of Austin’s streak of failed house parties throughout high school. Most of the kids our age had been too afraid of the Military Police to go to a party on post, but fewer people actually made the parties more fun.

“Totally.”

“And I was totally joking. You’re not going to have a party at Dad’s house.”

“Uh, yeah. I am.”

He could not be serious. Our dad would lose his mind if Austin had a party at his house. I couldn’t bear to think of the consequences.

“You are not. I mean, throwing a party a few days after you get arrested? What is wrong with you? We aren’t in high school anymore!”