He’s right, of course. It’s bad enough Uncle Carmichael could potentially lead the wild child astray. God forbid he got his hands on the saint. Shit, my parents’ faces. They warned me. Told me if I left, I wouldn’t be welcome back. The judgmental arseholes. Carmichael is the most accepting, kindhearted, patient man I’ve ever met. And even though my granddad and father hold him firmly in contempt, he does nothing but smile and be civil. He’s a better man than I am. I want to be him when I grow up. So in control, respected, highly thought of, even if not by his family. Everyone else loves him. But I’m not allowed to see him. I mustn’t be poisoned by his sinful ways. I’m not going to lie, what goes on at Carmichael’s place always has my curious mind racing. I can’t help it. He always looks so fucking happy. So free. So unbothered by criticism. I want some of that. I don’t think he’s an embarrassment; I think he’s a fucking legend. Fuck society. Fuck expectation. Fuck my parents. I don’t know what I’d do without Carmichael to vent my frustrations. “You know, if you want to do something, you should do it,” I say wistfully. “We’re nearly seventeen, Jake. You can’t let Mum and Dad dictate everything.” Guilt grabs me again. I hate leaving him at home, but I also can’t stay in that house facing the constant disdain. Constantly trying to win their approval. So I’ll be leaving the moment I can. “Come on.” I get to my feet. Jake’s starting to slur, and it’s already going to take us hours to get home if I have to carry him. “Time for me to tuck you up in bed.”

He rolls his eyes. “Let’s get a few for the walk home, yeah?” He half stumbles half jogs to a nearby table and claims a few beers before returning with a big cheesy grin, handing one over. Instinct tells me to decline. To take the beers away—he’s had enough. But since we’re going home now, and I’ve only had two tonight . . .

We say our goodbyes and head toward the main road. “Tell me,” I say, taking a sip of my beer. “Do you really want to go to Oxford, Jake?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s the lamest yeah I’ve ever heard.” I put my arm around his shoulder to support him when I catch a slight stagger. “We’re twins, remember? I can literally read your mind.” I watch as those cogs start spinning again, and I wait for the answer I know I’ll get.