"We need ice cream," he finishes and takes my arm, walking towards the house.
"Is Harris okay?" I ask.
"He'll live." He doesn't sound at all concerned.
Whether or not I should, I trust my brother and let it go.
The partygoers are already distracted by beer and s'mores. Carson remains by Harris while Riley looks like he's entertaining people to keep their attention away from the horrible scene on the back lawn.
I take a seat at the breakfast bar and watch Petr pull ice cream out of the freezer.
"Things are gonna change around here a little, Katya."
After his display on the lawn, I'm listening. He sets down the ice cream then peels off his bloody t-shirt, displaying his muscular upper body. He pulls on his sweater before washing his hands then dipping us both bowls full of ice cream.
This is kind of … strange. He kicks someone's ass, walks away and eats ice cream. Is this what he did in Iraq? Why doesn't almost killing Harris bother him one bit?
"I've always kind of brushed you off as the annoying little sister. I guess it never hit me until this year that you're not her anymore," he says, setting a bowl down before me. "I'm sorry if you felt left out around Mikael and me, or if we didn't ever really take you seriously."
Puzzled, I take a bite of ice cream and think about what I want to say. I don't think I can stomach eating much. I keep glancing at the bloodied t-shirt and hoping Harris is okay. Not for his sake, but so Petr isn't thrown in jail or something.
"I am very grateful for you in my life and for all you did this year," he continues.
"I felt left out when you guys left, but not in a bad way. I don't think. I mean, I didn't blame you for going."
"Everything changed this year."
I nod, gazing at my ice cream. I push it away.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want you as my friend. Not my caretaker," he says. "I don't need you to be my mother, and there are days, Katya …" He gives a growl of frustration. "Let's just say it's like you see me as broken, as someone who needs help. I'm neither of those, Kitty-Khav."
He's speaking gently, as if knowing he's hurting me. I'm pretty sure he's right. What he's telling me isn't new; I've heard it from a couple different sources. It doesn't make it easier to swallow.
He's waiting for me to talk.
I clear my throat. "I don't think you're broken or lesser because of your leg. I couldn't bear it if I lost you, and everything I do is because I love you, Petr."