Five
Tanner
Micah lounges on my sofa. His orange-tipped fingers duck into the cheese bag planted between his legs. My little brother stares at the commercial on the television screen, but I can tell he’s not registering any of it.
I glance at my phone. “When did Sam say he’d be here? His restaurant should be closing up around now.”
“‘Dunno.” Micah shrugs. “It doesn’t matter anyway. He doesn’t care about football.”
“Neither do I, but that didn’t seem to bother you when you barged in here.” I walk to the couch and sit on the edge. “Why don’t you watch the game at home?”
“It’s more fun to hang with you, bro,” Micah says.
I slant him a knowing look. Micah, at seventeen, is the baby of the family. Because he’s used to getting what he wants, he thinks he’s slick. Truth is… he can’t lie to
