“I hate you; I hope you know,” Kensi whispers in my ear, leaning into me while my mom, Dwayne and Owen talk about Germany more. I stop eating, my fork stuck in my mouth as I turn my head sideways and look at her, taken off guard by those words.

“Wha?” I say, mouth stuffed full like a chipmunk.

Her serious face breaks slowly into a smile.

“If I ate like you did, my ass would be so fat. It’s not fair, and I hate you for it,” she says.

“Oh,” I grin, laughing with my full mouth. I swallow my last bite, stand, and pick up my plate and hers to take them to the kitchen. She follows me, and I hear Owen’s steps coming behind her. I’m too full to eat any more, so I guess I should take his last lecture before he leaves the country. I ready myself for a litany of reminders not to fuck up, be good to Mom, and never trust House, but the lecture doesn’t come. Instead, he leans silent on the counter opposite me as I rinse the dishes and slip them into the dishwasher.

I pick up the towel, sensing he’s still staring at me, and finally give in. “What is it?” I sigh.

He chuckles, his arms crossed over his chest, finally nodding his head to follow him outside. I narrow my eyes, but toss the towel on the counter behind me and move toward the door, pausing for Owen to slip on his jacket. Kensi follows us both out the door, and I notice she’s shivering by the time we step down the stairs and begin to head toward the parking lot. Today’s the coldest it’s been this fall.

“Here,” I say, pulling my sweatshirt from over my head and tossing it to her.

“Thanks,” she smiles, putting it on without hesitating. I shove my hands in my pockets to keep warm in just my black T-shirt.

“Why do you always have to make me look like a dick in front of my girlfriend?” Owen says, pulling his jacket off and handing it to Kensi. She laughs and shrugs it away.

“I don’t need it now. I’m good in Andrew’s sweatshirt,” she teases.

“Seriously? He’s all skinny and shit. My jacket’s warmer.” I think he might actually have hurt feelings over this. He doesn’t sound like he’s joking, and I think…shit…I think he might be pissed. I look at Kensi, and we both purse our lips, trying to remain composed. It doesn’t last long as I practically spit out the laugh I’m holding in.

“You’re such a pussy, O. I haven’t been skinny in four years. In fact, I’m pretty sure I could kick your ass without working up a sweat now—so don’t distract from the fact that I’m a bigger gentleman to your girlfriend with some false illusion that I’m still just a kid. I haven’t been a kid for a long time now. Maybe you’re just an insensitive dick who needs to pay more attention to her,” I say. My words somehow fell into bitterness. I’m not sure how or why, but it’s too late now. Nobody quite knows how to respond, either. We’re all standing in the parking lot caught in the cone-of-awkward-silence I just plopped on top of us.

Owen looks down at his jacket in his hand, then glances sideways to Kensi, who shrugs at him. He lets out a breath of a laugh, then looks back up to me, pointing at me while he puts his jacket back on.

“You are going to take that shit back in about fifteen seconds,” he says, his mouth in a hard line.

I shake my head and whisper, “Whatever.” It’s easier than apologizing.

Owen walks to my mom and Dwayne’s storage garage and punches in the code, and I step forward to stand next to Kensi while the door lifts. I feel better standing next to her, especially when I’ve done something wrong. And I did—do something wrong. My brother didn’t deserve any of that. I’m just in a mood; one I can’t shake. That’s not an excuse to shit on him, though.

“Insensitive dick, huh?” he says, tossing a key at me as he gestures toward my car with his other hand. I let my eyes move from his to the keys in my hand, and it clicks with me instantly. I practically trip over myself as I step to the driver’s side front tire—to the side of the car, the bumper, the front door, the paint—it’s perfect.

“Shit, O!” I run my fingers along the side of the car as I kneel down. “Turns out I’m the insensitive dick. When…how? This must have cost a fortune!”

“It wasn’t cheap,” Owen says. Kensi moves to stand behind me, putting her hand on my shoulder as I stay crouched down, looking at my reflection in the black sheen of the paint. It looks better than it did before Emma and I wrecked it.

Before Emma wrecked it.

I force that thought away, instead wanting to focus on the good things happening right now. I look up at Kensi, and she nudges her head sideways toward my brother, raising her eyebrows. That selfless fucker did this for me.