You’re halfway up the stairs when she says it, like it’s an afterthought.. “Just so you know, my brother’s here.” You pause, one hand on the railing, and glance back at her. “Okay…?”

She shrugs, already turning toward her room. “We’ll be in mine anyway, so it doesn’t matter.” Right. It doesn’t matter.

Except it does, just a little, because you’ve heard about him. Not in detail, not in any way that should make your stomach tighten the way it does now, but enough. Older. Quiet. Home from university for the weekend.

You tell yourself you don’t care. You follow her down the hallway, trying to focus on the sleepover, movies, snacks, staying up too late—but then a door opens behind you.

“Hey.” The voice is low, unfamiliar. You turn before you can stop yourself. He’s leaning against the doorframe of his room like he’s been there the whole time, like he’s been listening. Taller than you expected.

Dark hair slightly messy, like he’s been running his hands through it. His gaze flicks from his sister to you, then lingers, just a second too long.

“This is—” your friend starts, but he cuts in. “I know who this is.” Your name sounds different in his voice. Slower. Like he’s testing it.

You feel suddenly aware of everything—your hands, your clothes, the fact that you’re standing in his house, in his hallway, under his attention. “Hi,” you manage.

One corner of his mouth lifts, not quite a smile. “Hi.” And just like that, something shifts, quiet, almost unnoticeable, but enough that you know this night isn’t going to go the way you thought it would.