“What do you mean?”

“Look at how he’s dressed,” Mom whispers.

I turn to look at Wyatt, typing something on his phone. He looks nice; he’s wearing a button-down and khakis. Not exactly the outfit I would’ve picked out, but this was brunch with my family; I wasn’t going to make him put on his Sunday best.

“His clothes are faded, Neil. And the shoes look like they’re from Target.”

“Is there something wrong with that?” I ask. Sure, I’ve made fun of Wyatt’s clothing before, but that’s something I’m allowed to do. Not her.

“Just buy him some decent options. My friends were staring at him when he walked in. And maybe convince him to get a trim while you’re out. Put it on the emergency card.” Mother stares at me intently, and something about her gaze just makes me shut down.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say.

If my entire family hates Wyatt’s clothes, that’s all the more reason to let him wear whatever he wants. Hell, he could come to the rehearsal dinner naked, for all I care. If it pisses off Mother, it’s worth it.

“Good.” She brushes something off my shoulder, and then takes some of my hair in her fingers. “Maybe you should get a trim too.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With a smile and a nod, she turns around and goes back to her mimosas and our family. I turn, walking past Wyatt and out onto the Beverly Hills sidewalk.

“Neil! Wait up!” Wyatt shouts behind me.

I just want to walk. Somewhere, anywhere. The farther away from my family the better.

“Neil!” Wyatt grabs my hand, stopping me in my tracks. Anger swells in my stomach for a second before I remember he’s not the person I should be mad at right now.

“Sorry, sorry. I just had to get away from them.” I try to slow my breathing a bit. I need to relax.

“Yeah, that was … something.”

“I’m sorry for what they said to you.”

“Are your grandparents always that charming?”

“Honestly? Count yourself lucky they didn’t say something worse.” Then I remember. “Sorry about your dad too. I had no idea.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I … I don’t really know. It just feels like the appropriate thing to say after learning something like that.”

“He died when I was a baby, so I never really knew him.”

“What happened?” The second I say the words, I suck in my bottom lip. “Holy shit, don’t answer that. I’m so sorry.”

“Dude, what are you freaking out for?”

“Because you might not want to talk about your dead dad?”

Wyatt actually laughs. “You’re taking this way more seriously than I am. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s still weird, though, right?”