When I gave in to a few girls, I took them to the guest room at my own apartment, sending Leo and Mike away for a few hours.
But even then, I often found myself thinking of Ginger’s smile.
The twins were staying at my place now, but they knew what they could touch and what was off-limits—and bringing girls over was strictly my privilege.
Ginger’s clothes remained modest, but they were finally colorful and actually fit her.
She looked quite pretty; she’d started paying attention to her appearance and had stopped biting her nails.
She didn’t even mind anymore if my arm brushed hers or if I rested a hand on her shoulder.
“You know we can study at home too, right?” Ginger asked in the library.
“Hell no,” I said.
“Home is for having fun.
Studying belongs at school.” I laughed.
“Will you drive me to the bistro this afternoon?” she asked.
I nodded.
“We study now, and then I’ll play for a bit.”
“You’re dressing better and better,” I noted.
“You finally realized there are colors other than gray.” I teased.
“Slowly but surely, I might even start wearing makeup,” she smiled.
“Just letting your hair down would be enough,” I remarked.
“Want to go somewhere this weekend?”
“Sure,” she smiled.
“I feel safe with you.”
Since Dom was away so much for football practice, Ginger and I spent a lot of time alone, which I really enjoyed.
“Are you having lunch with your parents again tomorrow?” she asked while we were playing one of my word games.
I nodded.
“It’s a tradition,” I said.
“According to my mom, it keeps the family from drifting apart now that we’re grown.
According to my dad, it’s a great opportunity to criticize everyone for something.”
“It can’t be that bad,” she said with a smile, laying down the word ‘privicy.’
“Oh, it is,” I said.
“One day I’ll take you along so you can see for yourself.” I laughed.
“That word is wrong,” I teased.
“It’s not spelled like that.
Take it back; no points for that one.”
Ginger reluctantly took her letters back; she didn’t have a chance against me in this game.
After ten novels, few people do.
I laid down a word, and Ginger frantically looked it up to see if I’d spelled it correctly.
Then, she begrudgingly wrote the points down next to my name.
“Just write that number down nicely,” I laughed.
“What happened to your parents?” I asked.
“Victor practically raised me,” she said.
“He lost his mother as a child; we’re only half-siblings through our father, but my mom loved Victor as her own.
I wasn’t even ten when I lost my parents.
Victor is much older than me, so it was just the two of us until he fell into the coma.
He’s the one who nicknamed me Ginger when I was little, before we even knew my hair would turn this bright flame-red.” She smiled at the memory.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Appreciate that you have a family, Cas,” she said seriously.
“Even if it’s not perfect.”
The letters ran out.
She looked at the score sheet and added up the numbers in her head in seconds.
“You won,” she noted.
“I don’t even need to add it up.”
“Or maybe you just don’t want to say the point gap out loud,” I teased.
“But this works, too.”
“I’ll try again another time,” she said.
I just nodded and helped her pack up the game.
“Why were your brother and Fred McCoy fighting?” I asked suddenly.
She looked at me, and at the mention of the guy’s name, a flash of pure panic lit up her eyes.
I immediately backed off.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly.
“It’s none of my business.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said, touching my arm.
“But let’s talk about something else.”