"Class. She's at UCI now." He pours me a cup and places it on the kitchen island. "You want eggs too?"
"I should take a cab home."
"Stay for breakfast." He turns back to the pan on the stove and scrambles the eggs. "Don't make me restrain you."
I'm not sure whether or not I should laugh. I'm not good with people, not even with a guy who is practically my big brother.
Or was practically my big brother.
Mal and I aren't anything anymore. This isn't my life anymore and lingering in it makes me feel like I'm stuck in some weird, slutty rock star version of A Christmas Carol.
But the eggs smell good and I'm starving. I nod an okay.
Mal makes small talk. He has an entire plate of eggs, a dozen pieces of toast, and several halved avocados ready by the time I finish my second cup of tea.
"Ethan hasn't been the same since you left." Mal slides a plate with eggs, toast, and two halves of an avocado to me.
That's nice. Ethan had every chance to apologize. He clearly prefers fucking strangers to what we had. Ethan isn't the same, Mal and I can agree on that point. He's an obnoxious manwhore now.
"People change." I take a bite of my eggs and chew until they're mush. Anything to keep from having to make conversation.
"He said you were too drunk to drive." He shakes his head, that signature Mal this isn't good head shake.
That much is true. "Last night was two years since Asher…"
Mal nods. His eyes fill with sympathy. Or maybe pity. I'm not sure. It's hard to tell sometimes, especially with Mal.
"I'm sorry about that. He was a great guy. And to find him like that-"
"Thanks." I interrupt him before he can properly remind me of the gory details. This is far too much talking. I'm not good at talking.
I shove half a slice of toast in my mouth. Then I get to work on scooping avocado over my eggs, adding sriracha, stirring until it's just right.
"Thanks Mal. Tastes great." I shove another bite of food in my mouth and offer him a thumbs up.
He nods and we eat in silence. It's comfortable, familiar, like it's only been a few days and not two years.
The front door opens. There are footsteps, shoes coming off, bare feet on tile.
"Hey, Ethan. You want eggs, come sit." Mal ignores the tension. He turns back to me. "How is school? Math, right? You getting a master’s or a PhD?"
"A master’s. It's great. Can't wait to be back in—" I do the calculation in my head. "Twelve days."
Ethan does not sit. He stays standing as he fills a plate for himself.
His eyes bore into me. It's like my existence is causing him pain.
Mal continues to ignore his little brother. "You're good with numbers?"
I nod.
"And you don't want to be home?" Mal asks.
"Is it that obvious?"
Mal nods. "I have a proposition for you." He turns to Ethan, then his eyes are back on mine. "You go to NYU, right?"
I nod.