“It’s nothing,” she says. “Are you any good at beer pong?” “Once upon a time, but probably not anymore.” She picks up the ball from the table and holds it between her fingers. “I hope you’re being modest because I’m terrible and I really don’t like beer. You’re going to need to carry us to victory, Champ.” The nickname doesn’t annoy me so much when she says it. My brother grins at me from the opposite end of the table. “How long has it been?” A long fucking time. “Not so long I can’t kick your ass.”
