“Because my little brother is dead and it’s my fault. And when they look at me, that’s all they see.”
“What?” I turned toward him. His eyes were closed. I stared at his profile.
“It was my fault he was struck, and I should’ve been able to save him, but I didn’t. It’s my fault he died.”
“You didn’t tell me you had a brother.”
“I know.”
“How old was he? What was his name?”
“Ten. Max.”
I put my hand on his chest.
“Does my mom know?” I asked.
He nodded, and I felt a pang of jealousy.
“Will you tell me about him? About what happened?”
He was silent for what felt like an eon.
“My parents went to Chicago for the night. They were planning to take Max with them but Max really wanted to stay home. He hated flying more than anything. My parents had been fighting a lot and I figured some time alone would be good for them, so I said Max could stay home and I’d be responsible for him—it was just one night. The next morning, the day they were coming home, some of my friends called and said there were tons of fish on the other side of the lake—our house is on a lake—so I wanted to check it out. Just a quick paddle to see if we could catch a few. Max didn’t want to go with me. He didn’t care about fishing and didn’t want to stop the computer game he was playing. I wouldn’t leave him home alone because I promised my parents I wouldn’t, so I made him go with me. I was a dick. I even made him row while I sat back and relaxed. Max saw the storm clouds and wanted to go back, but I’d seen the fish jumping and I was determined to catch a few. I told him to stop being such a pussy. A little rain wouldn’t hurt us. But it wasn’t just rain. It was a thunderstorm.”
Reed’s voice was monotone and matter-of-fact, like he was telling me about a trip to the mall.
“The lightning hit the boat—it was metal—and we both ended up in the water. I knew I’d been struck—I felt the jolt and I could barely move—but I wasn’t sure about Max. I tried to look for him, but my limbs felt so heavy, I couldn’t swim. I hoped he’d somehow swam his way to shore, but I knew there was no way. The paramedics found him. They said if we’d been struck on land instead of on the water, he probably would’ve survived. He was unconscious from the lightning or hitting his head, and then he drowned.”
“Oh my god, Reed. I’m so sorry. It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was. He begged me to turn back. He didn’t even like being on the water. I forced him. And I could’ve saved him. I could’ve stopped him from drowning.”
“No,” I said. “There was no way you could’ve known the lightning would hit. And you tried to find him, you couldn’t. It’s not your fault.”
I smoothed my hand over his cheek.
“You really didn’t do anything wrong. You were just being a typical big brother bossing around his little brother, that’s it.”
I put my arms around his neck, ran my hands along his chest, trying to pull him to me.
“I’m not whole. I shouldn’t even be here with you.”
“Stop. It doesn’t change the way I feel about you,” I said. “You’re everything. I—”
“Don’t,” he warned.
I’d been about to tell him I loved him and he knew it. He didn’t want me to say it.
“I want you to be my first,” I whispered.
“Rachel,” he said, so quietly. “Don’t.”
Then he sat up.
“I should get you home before the roads get worse,” he said.
FOURTEEN
Friendship is the marriage of the soul, and this marriage is liable to divorce.
—Voltaire (writer)
Jay picks me up on his way home from Boston on Sunday, and we go to his house to do homework. My books are spread out in front of me on his kitchen table, and he’s working on his laptop. But I can’t concentrate. I’m holding back tears. I sniffle, and he looks up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Serena’s been avoiding me since Friday night,” I say. “It’s like she suddenly hates me.”
“What? Why? You guys are best friends,” he says. “She doesn’t hate you.”
“She won’t answer any of my texts or phone calls. She’s not speaking to me. Why did you have to go to Boston? This never would’ve happened if you’d been here.”
He stiffens.
“What happened while I was gone that wouldn’t have happened if I was here?”
Shit. Now I have to tell him. Why does it feel so weird telling Jay about Sawyer? Like I’m disappointing him. Or cheating on him. Either way, I have to tell him. I fully expect it to be Monday gossip at school. I have to tell him before he hears it from someone else.
“I sort of hooked up with Sawyer Baskin Friday night,” I blurt. “It was nothing. Just one of those things.”
Jay squeezes and releases his fingers, but otherwise, he doesn’t move or look at me.
“One of those things,” he repeats.
“It was dumb. Lindsay dumped him. He was sad. I was sad. So we tried to cheer each other up.”
Jay snorts. “You couldn’t have just shared a gallon of ice cream or something?”
I punch his arm lightly. It’s obvious talking about this makes him uncomfortable. I never talked to him about Reed. We’ve never talked about crushes or hookups or anything having to do with that stuff, but he’s still sitting here, so I’ll take that as a good sign.
“Ice cream would’ve been less complicated, for sure,” I say. “Apparently he and Lindsay got back together yesterday. So I’ll be wearing a huge red A on my shirt at school.”
“You might be right,” he says.
“But they were broken up. I didn’t do anything wrong. And Serena shouldn’t even care. I’m her best friend. Do you think she’s choosing Lindsay’s side over mine? Has she gone over to the dark side? Do you think the cheerleaders are too powerful to resist?”
He shrugs.
“You’re no help,” I say.
“Maybe she likes Sawyer,” he says.
Now that has not occurred to me.
“No,” I say. “No way. Plus, I’m sure there’s some sort of cheerleader code where you can’t hook up with each other’s exes or something.”
“Do you like him?” he asks quietly.
“No,” I say quickly. “I mean, I like him, he’s nice, but I don’t want to go out with him or anything.”
“Then why did you hook up with him?”
“Are you being judgmental right now? Or is that a real question?”
“Real question,” he says without missing a beat.
“You want to know why I kissed him if I didn’t want anything more with him?”
He nods.
I hesitate. Articulating why is hard. Why does anyone do anything?
“I think because I just felt like it? Serena was so adamant that I stop sulking and have fun. So when the opportunity presented itself, it seemed like it would be a fun thing to do, a good distraction. It wasn’t that complicated. But maybe it was—I don’t know. Maybe I was trying to erase everything that happened before.”
“Did it erase it?”
“No. Well, maybe. I mean, nothing has been erased, obviously. But maybe I feel cleansed in a way, like I can move forward now.”
He looks at me now, holds eye contact. And I feel the thing between us that had started before Reed showed up. It’s still there and it’s getting stronger.
“I’m glad then,” he says, then looks up at the ceiling. “You want me to talk to Serena? I don’t want to get in the middle, but I will if you want me to. If it would help.”
“No, it’s okay.”
We go back to doing homework. We order pizza, and while Jay goes out to pick it up, I stay. His house is quiet. Kyle, his brother who’s one year younger than us, has a lacrosse game, and his mom and her boyfriend went to it, even though Kyle’s a benchwarmer.
I suddenly wish I could rewind to
Friday afternoon. Maybe I could’ve enticed Serena with the box in the garage. She loves anything that involves mystery and secrets. And she’s always been almost as curious about my father as I am. Then I could have convinced her not to go to the bonfire at all and I wouldn’t have kissed Sawyer, and she’d still be speaking to me. Now, the idea of looking in the box without her feels strange and lonely.
When Jay gets back, we eat while we work. I try to focus on my pre-calc problem set, but Jay is leaning back so far in his chair, it’s making me anxious.
“You’re definitely going to fall on your ass if you keep doing that,” I say. “And I’m just going to sit here and say I told you so.”
He comes forward quickly, and the chair makes a loud thwack when the front legs hit the floor.
“That’s better,” I say.
“She called me,” he says.
“Who?”
“Serena.”
I look up at him, but he just sits there.
“When?”
“When I was out getting the pizza,” he says.
“Well? What did she say?”
“Not much,” he says.
“What the fuck, Jay?”
He sighs.
“She asked if I wanted to study bio with her. I said you were over and then she said never mind.”
My eyes sting and I rub them.
“I asked her why,” he continues, staring at his pencil. “And she said she forgot she had practice.”
“Bullshit,” I say.
“I know. That’s what I said.”
“You did?”
He nods.
“Tell. Me. What. She. Said. Jay.”
“She said, ‘I can’t deal right now. I just need a break.’ I asked her if it’s about Sawyer and she seemed surprised I knew, but she said ‘no, not really.’ I asked her if she liked him and she said ‘no’ and she definitely meant it, like she seemed pissed I’d even suggest it. But she wouldn’t tell me anything else.”
He still won’t look at me, but I can’t keep my eyes off him.
“I told her that if she doesn’t talk to you about whatever’s going on, then I won’t be studying with her or hanging out or anything,” he says.
“You did?”
“Yeah,” he says. “It’s too weird.”
“Thank you,” I say, my voice a bit wobbly. “For doing that.”
I scoot my chair closer to him and lay my head on his shoulder. He doesn’t put his arm around me or anything, but he relaxes his shoulder a bit so I can find a soft spot between the hard bones.
“Girls are strange,” he says.
“You’re telling me.”
We stay like that for a while, and then finally I straighten and go back to my problem set while Jay studies for his bio test alone.
FIFTEEN
Having a pulmonary embolism is definitely easier than heartbreak.
—Serena Williams (athlete)
After the night Reed told me about his brother, I didn’t hear from him for three days. He even missed a group meeting, which was a first.
“He’s ghosting you?” Serena said when I reluctantly told her.
“No,” I said. I didn’t want to give her any ammunition against him. “He’s probably just not feeling well. He gets migraines and stuff.”
She looked at me like I was insane.
And suddenly the tears started. And then Serena’s arms were around me and I was sobbing.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she held me tight.
“I don’t know what happened,” I said. “One minute we were together and everything was great and then it was like he just shut it all down.”
“Maybe you’re right,” she whispered. “Maybe he has a migraine. Maybe it’s okay.”
I shook my head because I knew. I’d seen it in his eyes when he dropped me off after the slow drive home in the snowstorm. And the entire next day when school was cancelled, I stayed in bed and waited to hear from him, but I just knew I wouldn’t.
“I think he’s done,” I said, sniffling.
She let go of me then.
“What’s his number?” she asked.
“What?”
“His number. I’m going to call him.”
“No,” I said.
She grabbed my phone off the bed and opened my contacts. Then she punched his number into her phone.
I stared at her in disbelief.
She stood and walked to the window, the phone to her ear.
“Reed?” she said. “It’s Serena. Are you okay? Are you dying? Bedridden?”
She paused.
“Okay. Then there’s no reason for you to be ghosting my best friend.”
Oh. My. God.
“That’s the biggest load of shit I ever heard. Don’t even give me that. Do not be that guy.”
She paused again, listening.
“Yes. We’re good then? Okay.”
She ended the call, then came back to my bed.
“Why did you do that?” I asked.
“Because. It’s not fair,” she said.
“So, he said it’s over?”
“He gave me some shit about not deserving you, and he needed some time to think or something.”
“So maybe it’s not over then.”
She took my hand.
“Rachel, I don’t know him well enough, but I know you, and you should not wait around for this guy. He is going to break your heart. He already has.”
“But he could be—”
She groaned loudly before I could even finish my sentence.
“If he’s your soul mate, then he needs to get his act together fast and start treating you like the amazing person you are. If he’s your soul mate, then he’s fucking it up big time.”
My phone buzzed.
REED: Can I pick you up from school tomorrow?
My heart sped up.
ME: Okay.
Serena nodded at me.
“We should talk,” Reed said as I got into his van after school the next day. I’d spent all day thinking about this moment and hadn’t heard a single word a teacher said in any class.
“Okay.” I tried to sound cheerful, even though his voice was gloomy.
I looked out my window. Obviously, I knew he was breaking up with me, but I didn’t know exactly why. My chest throbbed, and I pictured my heart just going on and doing its thing, unaware that it was about to get broken, even if my head knew.
He drove in silence and pulled into our driveway. I waited for him to turn the van’s ignition off, but he didn’t. Oh my god, he was going to break up with me in the car with the engine running. So he could make a quick getaway. I wasn’t even worth turning off the ignition for.
“Rachel,” he said.
I looked at him. His beautiful dark hair, wavy only in the front so it dropped into his eyes a little. His bright blue eyes, big and beautiful. And his lips. The lips that had given me my first real kiss.
“It’s not going to work out with us,” he said. And even though I knew it was coming, it felt like my heart slammed against my chest, like it was trying to get out and punch him. Because there had been a teeny tiny little voice named Hope who said “maybe he’s going to say something else. Maybe he won’t break up with you.” But now Hope was gone, and I oddly felt relief now that I knew for sure.
“Why?” I was proud of myself for not crying. Yet. And my voice didn’t even crack.
Reed put his forehead on the steering wheel.
“After the other night,” he said. “I—I just realized that—I don’t know—”
“Because of what I said?” I asked, and this time my voice squeaked. He didn’t move, so I knew I was right. “But I didn’t even say it. And, yes, I want you to be my first, but I didn’t ask you to marry me or anything.”
He finally lifted his head and his eyes were sad.
“You didn’t have to say it. I know how you feel. I’ve known for a while. But I’m a wreck. I’m damaged. I don’t even know if I’m capa
ble of it. That day when we talked about Max, it was like I could see your thoughts planning our future. And I like you so much, Rachel, but I can’t see a future for myself even. So, I can’t lead you on like that. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let this happen.”
He said it like it was some horrible accident he’d been responsible for.
I opened the car door and ran inside the house, straight to my bed, collapsed on it face down, and cried. I couldn’t hear Reed’s engine anymore.
I spent ten days zombie-walking my way through the school hallways. I was glad it was so cold outside because I couldn’t be bothered with makeup, a hairbrush, or even clean clothes, so every day I wore the sweats I’d slept in and a knit hat. I listlessly did only homework that didn’t involve much thinking. Serena and Jay sat with me at lunch and carried on conversations, every now and then trying to include me but failing. Mom reminded me to wash my hair every other day. She told me that breaking up hurts, and there’s no way out but through. Thanks, Mom.
I checked my phone constantly. I imagined Reed texting me like in a movie, “Come outside.” And I’d go outside and he’d be leaning against his van, just staring at me. And we’d just do that—stare at each other. And then he’d stride to me and grab my hands and say, “Rachel, I made a terrible mistake. I was just scared of how deep my feelings are. I’m sorry. Please take me back.” I played the fantasy in my head over and over all day and all night.
When Mom made me change my sheets, I found one of Reed’s favorite band T-shirts bunched up at the bottom of my bed. I texted him and told him I had something I needed to give him. I didn’t hear back for a full day and a half. When the text from him did finally come, I was in pre-calc. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and I knew it had to be him. I got up to go to the bathroom, my heart pounding in my throat.
I went straight into a stall and sat on the toilet, pants and all. I needed to be by myself, completely alone to read his text. I held the phone in front of me, my hand shaking.
REED: Okay.
ME: Can I come by tonight? Around 9?
REED: Sure.
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