5 LUKE“Son of a—,” I muttered, trying to get the new hose into place. After the third try, I tossed it on the ground and stepped away from the Chevy. Frustrated, I kicked up some gravel from the driveway as I paced alongside the rusty old truck and slapped a hand on the fender.
“Easy there,” my brother said, easing up to me like I was a wild beast. “Take a breath. It’s not the truck’s fault.”
“It kind of is. The thing is so old, and everything is bent out of shape in it.”
“Kind of like you right now.” He cuffed my shoulder. “Especially the old part.”
“I’m two minutes older than you,” I said, giving him a shove. Charlotte might have been good at pushing my buttons, but Duke was an expert.
“What crawled up your butt this early?” He picked up the discarded hose and walked over to take a
