Gina, of all people, sat at the large kitchen island clad in designer jeans and a bright red tank top, her long brown tendrils flowing down her back. Red must be her signature color. She drank a green juice from a straw, her phone in her other hand.
“Good morning," she said, not looking up from her phone. “I thought we'd get an early start on the day."
“Um, OK?" I said, still standing at the corner of the hallway.
She looked up startled. Seeing me, she made a weird face. Holding my shoes, bag slung over my shoulder, wearing one of Luke's old t-shirts, I wasn't sure what Gina would think.
“I thought you were Luke," she retorted. “Early morning workout?" she asked.
“Something like that." I tried to be vague.
“Where's Luke?"
“Um…" I hesitated, not sure how to answer. “He needed a li
