Nightlife ✓

37 | tea

TEXAS WAS TOO DAMN HOT.

This I told my older brother, Tommy, over and over during the course of spring break. Each time I got out of the shower. Each time Quentin and I crashed back into his apartment from a day of sight-seeing.

Today, we'd visited a collection of places that was, in the simplest terms, stereotypically Texan. A museum of the evolution of soft drink cans over time. An art exhibit featuring sculptures wrought from old guns.

The two hallmarks of the Lone Star State.

"Of all places to do your Med placement," I began in the evening, while slicing okra in Tommy's kitchen. "Why Texas? It's so hot."

"Why not Texas?" Tommy returned, tossing a pan of cubed tofu pieces.

He was indubitably the best cook out of the four siblings. But that was probably because he'd been living on his own for the longest. Olly had Wenghao with whom to share domestic duties, and Kevin still lived at home.

Tommy had always been the lone wolf type, providing for himself and standing on his own two feet.

"It's scenic, and I love the accent," Tommy shrugged. "Plus. Southern charm at all that."

"You would be a lone ranger in another life," I chuckled.

Behind the fierce hiss of the wok and the rhythmic scrapes of my knife on the wooden cutting board, I heard the shower running. Quen was taking his second shower of the day. He hated the heat as much as I did, and walking around in the April sunshine made him sweat like crazy. Somewhere in his upbringing, Tommy must have missed the memo about being from the East Coast like the rest of us.

"Speaking of," Tommy snorted. "Okay, not really speaking of. You know what I learnt about the other day? Assless chaps. I got invited to a costume party with the other residents—and someone suggested I wear those. Everyone laughed."

I bit down on the burst of laughter welling up in my throat. "Poor Tommy."

"No, not poor Tommy. Impressive Tommy with the buns of steel. I would have stolen the spotlight."

I mimed vomiting into the wok, "Blergh. Don't you dare plant that image into my head."

By the time Quen emerged from the bathroom, clad in a T-shirt from the company at which he'd secured a summer internship, with towel-dry hair, Tommy and I had plated up. On the table sat several platters of vegetables and tofu, with the rice cooker in the middle of the table.

"Guys," Quentin moaned, pausing when he entered the dining room. "You said I could help."

My chest fluttered at the sight of Quen's rumpled hair, sticking up in inky strands. "Sorry," I half-smiled, "Tommy hates people 'helping' in his kitchen. But he's too nice to say that to your face."

"Wha—" Tommy gasped.

He glanced at me like I had just stabbed him in the back by revealing the sassy personality underneath his buttoned-up exterior.

"What?" I arched my eyebrows.

"Okay. Fine. You got me. Sorry, buddy," Tommy told Quen, "It's just how I am. Consider this your welcome to the family."

Quen threw back his head as he barked a laugh. My heart felt full as I took a seat and dug in, seeing my easy-going boyfriend and dramatic-ass brother getting along.

Quen and I were slowly making our way around the members of each other's family. Tommy was the first up out of the Mings. For the Lunar New Year, I had gone to Carsonville to meet his lovely parents, and I'd already told Kevin and Olly about our relationship—the latter having followed along with my melodramatic escapades since I first started crushing on Quen.