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girl pregnant?
    Derrick holds up his hands and shakes his head. “Chill out, Dylan. You’re giving me a headache. Come on. Let’s go have a drink.”
    I follow my brother through the kitchen. He grabs two sodas out of the fridge, and then we head out to the back porch.
    “Dad home?” I ask him.
    “Of course not,” he replies.
    Funny, he can remember that but seems to forget why things are that way. He hands me the soda, which I take. “A Pepsi doesn’t make you seem any less crazy.”
    I plop down in our porch chair. It’s cold as hell and a little drizzly. There’s a small puddle of water at the bottom of the stairs, and I watch as drops hit it and echo out. Why we couldn’t do this inside, I don’t know.
    Derrick sits next to me. “She’s not pregnant, dumbass.” He thumps my head. I push his hand away.
    “So you are crazy?” 
    He shakes his head and is quiet for a few seconds. He looks like he’s trying to figure out what to say, and I want to tell him just to spit it out. But before I get the chance, he opens his mouth and says, “I love her, bro. She’s awesome. You’ll like her, too.”
    I scratch my neck, not sure what to say. Stupid, but I totally didn’t expect him to say that. I want him to tell me I’m right. Or that he made a mistake, or that she’s just fun or cool. Not that he loves her. He’s dumb to risk loving anyone.
    “Yeah, I’m sure she’s cool. It’s one thing to like a girl. I like a lot of girls. It’s one thing to think she’s cool, but married? Are you that whipped? Where’s your collar?” I try to make light of the moment when I really feel like I’m going to explode.
    Derrick’s voice is tense when he says, “Watch it. I can still kick your ass and don’t think I won’t.”
    Crossing my arms, I look away from him. I can’t believe he’s doing this. I can’t believe he’s bailing on us. On me. “What about the pact?” I finally ask. “We always said it was the Gibson Boys. That we wouldn’t let a girl come between us.”
    I want an eraser to take the words away because they sound stupid and needy, but I want him to hear them, too. Want them to penetrate his thick skull so he can realize what he’s doing.
    Derrick sighs. His eyes look all concerned, making me really want to get out of here. “She’s not going to come between us, and we were kids when we made that dumb pact. Come on, Dyl. I’m happy.”
    Guilt body-slams me. He sounds happy, and I want that for him. He’s my brother after all, but how can I go along with this? We were all happy: me, him, Dad and Mom. Then one day we weren’t. Now we’re happy again, and I really don’t want to go back to the not.
    “How long will you be happy? Everything was perfect before, and then it all fell apart.”
    It takes him a couple minutes to reply. It feels like an eternity, and I wonder when I turned into such a stress case.
    “Things weren’t perfect, D. You were young. You didn’t see, or you don’t remember, but—”
    I hold up my hand to stop him. “Not going there. This is about you and the colossal mistake you’re about to make.” I need the subject to go back to him and not her because he’s wrong. Our life was perfect.
    Derrick playfully shoves my arm. “It’s not a mistake. You’re my little brother. I want you to be cool with this. We’re going to need your help, ya know? There’s stuff we’ll need you to do—being the best man and all.”
    This is the first I’ve heard about best man. Buying me off isn’t going to work. Then I start to feel bad. This is my brother, and he’s never really asked me for anything. He was there for me when Dad wasn’t. But why this? He wants my help to break something that he promised me.
    It takes a few minutes, but finally he speaks again. “She’s not Mom, Dylan.”
    Tears sting my eyes. When did I turn into such a pussy? Dad’s a workaholic. Derrick is a nutcase. And I’m turning into a sniveling baby. So much for the Gibson