Jake and I were about the same height, 6’1, both on the slim side of the body spectrum, but Jake made an effort to work out and look good. I wanted to rub the area to soothe the ache, but I couldn’t let my brother know what a goddamn wimp I really was. The blow wasn’t that hard, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. Jake’s response was a swift punch to my arm. “Dude, what can I say? After you, they’re begging me for it,” I said as a smug dig. “Eww… god!” Jake complained, his face scrunched up in disgust. And this time, I won’t have to settle for sloppy seconds,” I smirked.
I had to resort to dick jokes… not that I had a problem with that. Finally! Shit! It was taking more and more to coax one of those out of him. How small did you say your chode was again?”
Covering up my growing concern, I opted to reply to my distracted brother with an insulting joke. Nothing seemed to really interest him anymore… not even an unbelievably hot chick. Jake had been doing a lot of that lately. “She just… she looks really clingy, and I seriously don’t have the energy tonight.” “You guess? Dude, you have warped standards.” She’s hot, I guess,” Jake replied, shrugging noncommittally, as he sponged his flushed face with a towel. By the looks of him, his state of mind was anything but playful. Although I doubted I needed to worry tonight.
I purposefully kept my distance, knowing that Jake occasionally took pleasure in shaking his head and showering me in a fountain of his perspiration. Sweat clung to strands of his hair before giving way to the weight and dripping in a steady stream to the floor below. His shoulders were slumped, and his normally determined gait was heavy with exertion.
Two hours of performing under the glaring lights had taken its toll on him. “You want me to have Travis send her back?” I asked my brother Jake, as we headed to the dressing room after his show. In fact, I’ve always been okay with a second place finish. In the words of the great Ricky Bobby, “If you ain’t first, you’re last.” I don’t subscribe to that way of thinking. Or the runner-up in a beauty pageant who stands there smiling as the winner accepts her crown. You know, like the athlete who crosses the finish line milliseconds after the victor. I’ve lived my life in the shadows of excellence and made a career out of being a step behind. Well, that’s me: Kyle McKallister, little brother to probably the most famous rockstar in the world. In economics, the theory of second best roughly refers to the idea that if the optimal choice is not available, it’s possible to change some variables and make things work with the second best option. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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