“You must really love that armrest, little bro. Is it special to you or something?” “I don’t lo—” My mouth snaps shut, and my eyes widen. “Little bro?” CJ’s smile is so bright now. It’s weird. All of this is weird. “What,” he says. And I say, “I’m not your bro.” Because I’m not. Straight facts. We’re not related, and we don’t talk like buddies. Not yet anyway. And maybe not ever, but definitely not yet. But then he says, “You will be,” in this sly, all-knowing way, and CJ’s smirking now and still using both of our armrests!
