Chapter 11

“I don’t understand how you’re the one that eats the most out of any of us,” Neil says, without looking up from his knife.

“I don’t!”

“How many times have you eaten today already? Tell the truth.”

“Four,” I lie.

“Bullshit,” Neil scoffs.

“I’m not as worried about my figure as you are,” I tease him.

Neil is vain about his appearance. With good reason—all my brothers are handsome, but Neil has that male-model prettiness that seems to make girls’ panties spontaneously combust. I don’t know a single girl who hasn’t slept with him, or tried to.

It’s a weird thing to know about your own brother, but we’re all pretty open with each other. That’s what comes of living in the same house for so long, with no mom around to keep them from treating me like just another little brother.

And that’s how I like it. I’m not anti-woman—I’ve got no problem with girls who want to be pretty or feminine or sexy or whatever the hell. I just don’t want to be “treated like a girl,” if that makes sense. I want to b