by Linda Kage
Both Mason and Reese visited every day, but whenever they showed up, Sarah shut down. She couldn’t look her brother in the eye, and I could see how much that hurt him.
I think it hurt her too, though she didn’t say it. And I didn’t ask. I figured she’d talk when she was ready.
I stuck by her side pretty much all day long, every day. Aspen even let me take off school to stay with Sarah. Then at night when everyone else fell asleep, I snuck into my room that had been Caroline’s before she’d moved out and married Ten, and I crawled into bed with Sarah to console her.
She was always awake and would always clutch my shirt with the tightest grip as if I were some kind of lifeline.
By the twelfth night, I couldn’t take it any longer. She was fading away in front of me, and poor Reese had been crying when she and Mason had left earlier that evening. Something had to change. Sarah had to talk, and since I was the only person she seemed to be speaking to, I guessed this shit was up to me.
She said nothing as I entered the darkened room, but I knew she was awake. I’d spent enough nights with her now to know she didn’t spasm in her sleep, and she was shifting restlessly under the covers as I lifted one corner and slid into the bed next to her. So she had to be up.
I didn’t curl against her as I had the past few nights. Instead, I stayed on my back and stared up at the dark ceiling while she shook, her back facing me.
It struck me just how important she’d become lately, because nothing in the past so many days seemed as essential to me as fixing her. A happy Sarah seemed as integral to me as my own well-being. And she was suffering, so I was suffering.
Needing to stop the pain, I drew in a deep breath and asked, “What did Mason do to you?”
She sniffed as if she were crying. But she answered, “Nothing.”
My return snort told her I didn’t buy that. “If he didn’t do anything wrong, then why are you mad at him?”
“I’m not mad at him.”
When she whimpered, I rolled onto my side and touched her back. “Sarah, you can tell me. It’s okay.”
She curled into herself away from me. “There’s nothing to tell. Mason didn’t do anything wrong.” But then she started crying harder. “He would never hurt me.”
“Bullshit,” I whispered fiercely before taking her arms and pulling her gently against me. I combed her hair with my fingers. “If he didn’t do anything, then why won’t you talk to him? Why are you too scared to live with him? Why—”
“I’m not scared,” she hissed before turning toward me and bowing her head into my chest. “I...I’m ashamed.”
I squinted. Ashamed? That was so not what I thought she’d say. “Ashamed of what?”
“He’d hate me if he found out,” she went on. “He’d never want to see me again. I don’t know where I’d live, or what I’d do. He’d send me away to—”
“Sarah!” I gripped her face in my hands, forcing her to look up. “Shh.”
When she finally calmed down enough to stare back at me, her chest heaving from her anxious breaths, I shook my head. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I killed her,” she croaked, and more tears spilled down her cheeks. “I killed my mom.”
Not expecting her to say that either, I blinked a moment, gaping badly, before a frown overcame me. “Say what?”
No way could Sarah kill anyone.
It took her a minute to quell her emotions enough to talk. But once she did, everything spilled out. “I told you my mom used to do drugs, right? Well, a few months ago, I noticed my bottle of antispasmodic medicine kept going empty before I should be finished with it, so I started hiding it, but...”
She went on, telling me how she hadn’t gone to Mason with her worries or confronted her mom about stealing the medicine. Convinced it was her fault her mother had overdosed, she kept going, confessing more from years past.
What she told me about her brother shocked the shit out of me. But, really? Mason had been a male prostitute? That shit was just crazy. I’d known him for over two years, and I never would’ve guessed that. But the fact that Sarah thought it was her fault that he’d become one was even more ludicrous.
As I listened to her tell me all her deepest, darkest secrets, I wondered why she’d never told me any of this before. But then I realized, I’d never told her my most humiliating secret either. Holding her close when she finally fell silent, spent from all her talking, I kissed her hair and closed my eyes.
“Do you hate me?” she asked into the dark room, and I almost laughed.
“I could never hate you.”
If I hated her, then I’d have to hate myself, because what she’d done was nowhere near as awful as what I’d done.
“Get some sleep,” I murmured, afraid to soothe her from her guilt because I was certain I’d end up spilling my own little confession if she kept making herself feel so shitty. “Everything will be better tomorrow. I promise.”
Thank goodness she didn’t argue with me. Letting out a sigh as if lighter now from unloading some of her burdens, she burrowed close and fell asleep almost instantly.
The next evening, I pounced on Mason the moment he showed up to see her.
“I need to talk to you.” With a discreet glance toward Reese, I added, “Alone.”
Mason and Reese shared a worried look between the two of them, but he nodded and followed me out the back door and into the yard for some privacy.
I couldn’t believe I was going to do this to Sarah. She’d probably never forgive me for betraying her confidence, but I could no longer watch her self-destruct over some unnecessary guilt that I could stop. This shit ended now.
Once he closed the door, I turned and lifted my hands. “First of all,” I started. “How much do you love your sister?”
Mason only blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I can’t tell you anything unless you promise you won’t get mad at Sarah.”
“Why would I get mad at Sarah?” Narrowing his eyes, he took a step closer to me. “What’s going on? I thought she was just upset about our mom’s death.”
I backed up an inch. “Well, yeah. She is upset...and then some.”
“Brandt, you’re not making any sense.” He moved closer.
I only shook my head. “I’ll explain everything when you tell me you can forgive Sarah no matter what?”
Grabbing the front of my shirt, he yanked me close. “Start talking, kid.”
“Okay, fine! She thinks it’s her fault you became a gigolo.” When I shrugged away from him, he was so stunned he let me go without a scuffle.
“What?” He stared at me a moment, then opened his mouth, only to close it a second later. Gripping the back of his head, he spun away, paced a couple feet into the yard, then whirled back and returned to me. “How... When...?” Shaking his head, he finally settled with whispering, “She knew?”
I nodded. Burrowing my hands into the pockets of my hoodie, I began from the beginning, telling him how his mom and landlady set up his first...job...as a hooker. All the while, the shock in his eyes dulled to a numb kind of defeat.
By the time I got to the part where Sarah knew their mom had started taking drugs again, he’d bowed his head and was shaking it miserably at the ground.
When I finished, I gave him a moment to soak everything in. But anxious on Sarah’s behalf, I finally demanded, “So are you going to forgive her or not?”
Mason glanced up. His face was noticeably paler than it’d been when he’d come outside, and his shoulders were drawn in around himself, but his features contorted with confusion. “Why would I forgive her? She doesn’t need forgiveness. She never did anything wrong. Nothing that happened was ever on her shoulders.”
I blew out a relieved breath, but just as quickly shook my head. “I don’t care. She still feels like shit over it. So you need to go in there and tell her you forgive her so she can get over this and start trying to forgive herself for everything she’s convinced she did do wron
g.”
Mason glanced at the house before he turned back to me, his blue eyes worried. “Do you think she’ll finally come home if I do?”
I snorted, thinking the answer was obvious. “Fuck, yeah.”
With a nod, Mason swung his attention to the house again. “If you’ll excuse me, then. I need to talk to my sister.”
He started for the back door, but I called, “Hey. Did women really pay you to—”
He turned back so fast I swallowed the last of the question.
With a nervous grin and one-shouldered shrug, I said, “That’s kind of badass.”
Mason only shook his head, horror and regret filling his face. “No. It’s isn’t.” And he reentered the house without another word.
I had planned on telling him I wouldn’t go spilling his secret to anyone else, but I got the feeling he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It reminded me of the things I didn’t want to talk about.
The expression that had flitted across his face mirrored the way I’d felt way too many times. All the guilt and remorse oozing off him made me shiver with a strange kind of kinship with Sarah’s brother.
I guess experiencing sexual contact with a woman you didn’t want affected a guy pretty much the same way, whether she was paying you for it or she was your mom forcing you into it.
Huddling deeper into my hoodie, I shivered again and hurried inside after him.
He and Reese were already in my room with the door closed. I paced the hall, just outside, hoping Mason hadn’t lied when he’d told me he didn’t blame Sarah for anything and hoping even harder that Sarah would forgive me for ousting her.
I was a hypocrite, I knew. If I’d confided in her, I never would’ve wanted her to spread it to anyone else. Yet here I was, hoping she was okay with me doing it to her. Damn, who was I kidding? She was never going to talk to me again.
I began to sweat and bite my thumbnail, pacing a little faster.
Finally, Colton appeared in the opening of the hall. “What’re you doing?”
“Nothing! Go away.”
“Hey, lay off.” Noel appeared beside him, frowning at me. “He’s right. You’re acting weird. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I repeated through gritted teeth. “I’m fi—”
My bedroom door came open, and I whirled around, forgetting my brothers. I held my breath in anticipation before Mason appeared in the entrance. His face was absolutely unreadable, which made my stomach churn with worry. Then he stepped aside and there was Sarah in her wheelchair and her suitcase clutched in her lap.
I sucked in a sharp breath. This was it, then. She was so pissed at me for blabbing she was leaving me.
Cold immediately set into my bones. I was a split second from dropping to my knees and begging for forgiveness when she looked up at me and smiled. She rolled straight to me and then lifted her arms, opening them for a hug.
I just stood there, confused. “What?”
“Thank you for doing what I couldn’t,” she said. “Now hug me already; I can’t hold my arms like this all day.”
Rushing forward, I gave her an awkward hug over the top of her suitcase, but it was still the best hug I’d ever gotten. We clung to each other until I whispered into her ear, “I was so sure you’d be pissed at me and never forgive me.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” She tapped my arm with a playful punch. “I’m never confiding in you again, that’s for sure.”
I pulled away and looked into her eyes, totally not believing her claim. “You know I never would’ve said anything unless I’d known for sure he’d make it right with you.”
When she shrugged but her lips tightened as if she was trying to hide a smile, I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t hate me. You can’t hate me.” Because I could never hate her.
Finally, she sighed in defeat. “Well, it’d be nice if I could. You owe me big time for this.”
With that, I knew everything between us would be okay. Her mother might still be gone, it was going to take time for her to heal, and she would probably still cling to her guilt for a while, but I knew she’d get there eventually, because she’d forgiven me, and since she’d allowed me to stay in her life, I would do everything in my power to help her through this.
BRANDT
AGE 16
After Sarah left my house to live with Mason and Reese, things changed. I have no idea what she’d done to me, but I missed her like crazy. I missed her living in my house. I missed her sleeping in my bed. I missed her just being there, to talk to whenever I wanted.
Somewhere between drying her tears each night and helping her brush her hair each morning, I’d become dependent on taking care of her.
Sometimes I’d tell Noel I was going to the park to play ball with the guys when really I was going to her house instead. Not sure why I lied, maybe because I was afraid he’d tell me I was spending too much time with her. No matter what, I wasn’t going to spend any less time with her.
Then, in the evenings, after Mason told me I needed to head home, I’d sneak around to her window as soon as I walked out the front door, so I could crawl in through there and spend more time with her. It wasn’t as if we did anything wrong. We just hung out, watched movies, made fun of posts on Facebook together, boring regular friend stuff.
More often than not, I used her window. We just figured it raised fewer questions this way, especially since I usually ended up falling asleep with her.
We had a feeling her brother would have a hard time buying that our relationship was purely platonic if he ever discovered me spooned up behind her in bed some night. So we typically just bypassed letting anyone else know about every visit I made.
I couldn’t get kicked out at curfew if they didn’t even realize I was there. Plus, it was fun to bend the rules a bit.
Sarah was sitting on her bed, watching something on her laptop with earbuds in one evening when I came tapping on her window.
She looked up and smiled when our gazes met through the glass. Then she crawled across the mattress to grasp the window and heave it up.
“I’m not going to make it through this school year,” I complained, even before I started to climb inside. “I’m just not.”
Sarah merely rolled her eyes as she returned to the head of the bed to sit upright against the pillows and pull the laptop back onto her legs. “Who is it today? Aspen or Noel?”
I scowled at her.
Okay, so maybe I’d been complaining a bit much lately about having my sister-in-law working at school as my English teacher and my brother there as my new football coach, but gah...it was freaking embarrassing.
“Noel,” I railed anyway, despite her disinterest. “I mean, he’s only worked there a week, the season’s almost over, and do you know how many fucking suicide drills he had us do today in practice?”
“You know what I can’t believe?” Sarah asked, her attention on the computer and not me. “That you came over here to see me while you’re drunk.”
I blinked, utterly stumped. “What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been drinking.”
“Oh, really?” She finally glanced up as she arched a challenging eyebrow. “Then why is it, all I’m hearing is wine, wine, whine?”
“Wow.” I shook my head and narrowed my eyes before letting out a reluctant smile and plopping down next to her against the headboard of the bed. “Low blow, smart-ass. Thanks a lot. But fine. I’ll stop whining.”
Honestly, I loved her smart-ass ways. She was always so different when we were alone. At school, she usually retreated into her shell, all introverted. Sometimes it was even hard to get her to talk to me in public. But as soon as she knew no one else was around, she shed the shyness and was my Sarah once again.
A part of me was pleased she was this way. No one else knew how fun and smart and sarcastic she really was, so I could hog her all to myself. I didn’t have to share her with anyone. Then again, I also worried about her because I couldn’t always be around, and her timid, withdraw
n behavior made her a bigger target for bullies. The idea of people picking on her unnerved me.
I wanted to kick the ass of anyone who even looked at her wrong.
Glancing at the computer screen that was still stealing her attention away from me, I frowned at what looked to be a YouTube recording of a live comedy show. “What’re you watching, anyway?”
“My new hero,” she answered, her gaze intent on the woman who sat on a stool on a stage and talked into a microphone.
“Really?” I wrinkled my brow. “A comedian?”
“An Arab-American female comedian.” Sarah glanced at me before she added, “With cerebral palsy.”
My eyes widened. Curious about the woman capturing my best friend’s attention, I popped one of Sarah’s earbuds from her ear to plug it into my own. Together we listened to Maysoon Zayid talk about being thirty-three and single.
After a couple seconds, I laughed. She was pretty funny. But that didn’t explain why Sarah was quite this utterly fascinated with her, other than the fact they both had CP.
I tipped her a sideways glance. “You want to be a comedian?”
She blurted out a shocked laugh and then bumped her arm against mine. “God, no.”
“Then why is one your hero?” I was confused.
“Because she’s a freaking inspiration.” She motioned to the screen. “I can’t stand going out into public. I feel so paranoid about what people think, I just want to soak into the shadows so no one will see me, but she actually likes to be in the spotlight. And she’s so good at it. She takes everything anyone could ever discriminate against her and she makes it all a funny non-issue. She’s just...she’s so brave. I wish I could be that brave. I wish I didn’t care what anyone thought of me.”
I stared at her, stunned and a little hurt to hear she felt this way...and I hadn’t known.