Most of my cousins were over-achievers. I saw the disappointment in my mother’s face as her sisters boasted about all the things their children were doing. Chris and I were average students at best and the twins were ill-behaved brats that weren’t old enough to compete with student body presidents and soon-to-be valedictorians. As soon as everyone left, my mom compensated for our lack of brag-worthy accomplishments by recalling the stories she’d heard and encouraging us to be more like Cousin So-and-so. Chris listened for a while. Then he scooted out the door with no clear destination. I tried to escape, but my few remaining friends were out of town and Devon was working. When he finally came to pick me up at seven, I was so thankful to see him that I raced out the door before he made it halfway up the sidewalk. He smiled at me. Then he took my hand and we walked out to the street. He wasn’t driving RJ’s car. Instead, he had a newer red coupe with tan leather seats and a five-speed transmission.
