“Celine’s a year younger than you,” I continued. “Keenan’s her older brother, and Fiona, the redhead—”

“I remember. I tried to steal her phone.”

“Right, well, she’s Keenan’s twin. Their mom left a few years back, after their dad died. I don’t think they’ve seen her since. Fiona runs the Harbor Inn motel in town, and Keenan works at the mill. He—”

“I don’t care about them. What does their sister have to do with anything? Why is Keenan so pissed off at me?”

I tried to determine how much of Pandora’s box I should open. Celine had always been the bona fide Sunshine Girl everybody loved, and both my mom and Brad were delighted when she and Ash grew close. Ash was sixteen back then, and despite the fact I’d grown up in the year since Mom and I had moved in with Brad and Ash, I knew he still saw me as the little kid with the nerdy math shirt and boring Mary Janes.

“You’re spending a lot of time with Celine,” Mom said one night as we sat at the family dinner table. She handed Ash the mashed potatoes before exchanging a glance with Brad, a bemused smile playing on her lips. In return, Brad made wide eyes at her, signaling he wanted her to stop talking, which, of course, she didn’t. “Tell me, are you two—”

“Friends,” Ash replied, dumping another spoonful of mash on his plate, which was already piled high with roast beef, carrots and Yorkshire puddings, a Sunday dinner both Ash and Brad had taken great delight in introducing us to. I couldn’t believe how much Ash could get away with eating, or how much he’d grown in height and muscle over the past year. In comparison to the guys in his grade, he looked like he’d finished high school, especially since he’d taken up carpentry. The other boys were pubescent, and acted as if they were little kids, but not Ash. He had the body of a man, like the ones on TV or in magazines.

Earlier in the afternoon I’d stood at the kitchen window, peeling potatoes, and watching him cut the grass without his shirt on, beads of sweat gathering across his back and flat stomach. The sight made my belly flutter, a strange sensation I’d never felt before, as if I’d swallowed a hundred fireflies. Mom had to ask me to pass the milk three times before I heard her, and then I handed her the juice.

“Friends?” Mom raised her eyebrows at him. “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

“Ophelia,” Brad said. “Leave the lad alone. A man needs his secrets.”

“Ash doesn’t keep secrets from me.” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud, hadn’t meant for it to sound so childish, either, and when Mom laughed, my scowl deepened.