Hi, bro

I’d had a crush on Ethan for ten years, and he’d been annoyed with me for just as long. Finally, one day, I took matters into my own hands, leaving him with nothing but his pride and two hundred bucks. He was humiliated and vowed revenge, but I vanished. I dodged him for three years, until my dad passed away, leaving me an orphan. Ethan’s parents, always kind to me, said, “Our home is your home now, and Ethan’s your brother.” Looking at Ethan’s face, a mask of horrified disbelief, I chirped, “Hi, bro!”

01

I’d been avoiding Ethan for three years. I knew the exact timeline because the night I… well, the night it happened was New Year's Eve during freshman year of college. Fireworks everywhere. And today, another New Year’s Eve, my senior year, I was back. I lugged my suitcase, planning to grab some fruit before heading upstairs to the Evans’ house, when I bumped right into him.

He hadn’t changed much. Hoodie up, hands in his pockets, that same lazy, effortlessly cool vibe – totally masking the jerk underneath. A gorgeous jerk, admittedly.

The second he walked into the store, I instinctively turned, pulling my beanie lower.

“Ethan, buying fruit again?” The young woman behind the counter practically glowed when she saw him. “The new grapefruit is amazing. Grab a couple for your folks.”

“I hate grapefruit. Too sour.”

“How about cherries? Super sweet.”

“Hate sweet things even more.”

…I wanted to smack him. Picky much? But the owner was undeterred. At checkout, she even tucked a few apples into his bag. Ethan got this special treatment everywhere. With a face like that, he’d been a heartbreaker since he was a kid. At ten, he could walk down the street empty-handed and come back with his pockets full of candy. I used to be so jealous. Now, at twenty, the candy-givers were older, but the charm was the same.

“Ethan, home alone this year?” the owner asked.

“Yup.”

“Heard from the neighbors you were planning on bringing a girlfriend home.”

Ethan had a girlfriend? I strained to hear.

02

Ethan chuckled, a low sound that vibrated in my chest, just like it had three years ago. Back then, it hadn't just been my chest that vibrated.

“Nah, just rumors,” he said.

“I always said you were too picky, Ethan. Hard to find someone good enough. What kind of girl are you into? I have a sister, super sweet…”

“Hate sweet girls.”

Yeah, I could practically picture his expression. On my sixteenth birthday, I got a frilly lace dress. I’d shown it to Ethan, all excited, and he’d wrinkled his nose. “Liv, I hate sweet girls,” he’d said, using that same tone.

The owner laughed awkwardly. “Well, you better find someone soon, Ethan. Your parents are worried.”

“Don’t worry, I have a girlfriend," Ethan said slowly. "Just haven't decided which one to bring home yet.”

The owner just stared. Such a ridiculous statement, but coming from Ethan, it almost sounded plausible.

The store fell quiet. I figured he’d left, so I reached for the last honeydew melon. A hand, long-f...