“She didn’t?”
Michael shook his head, then smiled a little sadly. “She didn’t. It started . . . something.”
Nick didn’t smile, because he knew how this story ended. “Something.”
“We never went out or anything. It never got that far. Just . . . there was something there. But then there was her family, too. Tyler was young, but he had a lot of friends. They hid in the back of the truck and jumped me. Tyler put a butane lighter against my face and I couldn’t control myself. I almost killed them.”
“But you didn’t.”
Michael’s expression tightened. “No, I didn’t, and I’ve wondered a thousand times how that day would have ended differently if I’d killed them right then.”
The waitress appeared beside their table. “Can I bring you anything else?”
Michael cleared his throat. “I would really, really like a beer. Anything on tap.”
She hustled off.
“First time I haven’t gotten carded,” said Michael.
“Haircut,” said Nick.
“I owe you.” Michael paused and his voice resumed its former gravity. “We ran. Emily and me. We took a trail down to the back side of the quarry. Tyler and his friends chased us. We jumped in the water and swam like hell. She wasn’t a strong swimmer, but I knew if we could get near the other kids who were swimming on the far side, they’d have to back off.”
He shook his head. “They didn’t. We made it, but they were right there. I could feel the rocks overhead were loose, but I thought we were okay.”
He stopped and took a breath. Nick studied him. “Mike—you don’t have to tell me this.”
“It’s all right. She—she went back to them. We were there in the water, near the wall, facing off. There were six of them, and Emily was a tiny girl. I think—I think she thought they’d go away and leave me alone if she went with them. She swam toward them before I could stop her, going to Tyler. I remember him looking at me, all victorious, like she’d run from me. I know that wasn’t it. She was trying to protect me.”
He went quiet for so long that Nick wasn’t sure he was going to keep talking.
“So what happened?”
Michael glanced up. “She never got a chance to say anything. The rocks fell. I tried to stop it, but I wasn’t strong enough—or maybe I just wasn’t fast enough. They hit her and two of the other kids. I went down to get her, and came up with one of them. Same thing again. By the third time I went under, I only found her body. I knew it looked like I’d killed her.” He paused. “I ran home. You remember.”
Nick did remember. “Wow.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
The waitress returned with a glass and set it in front of Michael before rushing off again.
Nick had no idea where she was going so fast. The restaurant was deserted. It was barely four. Maybe she’d picked up on the tension.
“Tyler blames me,” Michael said. “I don’t fight him, because I get it. I blame me, too.” His eyes narrowed. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him beat the crap out of you guys. Seriously, Nick. What’s going on with Tyler? Why did you want to know about Emily?”
Nick clasped his hands under the table and shook his head. He couldn’t talk about Tyler without talking about all of it. “Quinn asked me,” he offered. “I didn’t know all the details.”
“Oh, right. Quinn. Your girlfriend.”
Nick couldn’t figure out the note in his voice. Talking didn’t seem safe now. He took a sip of his soda.
Had Michael heard what Tyler said? Maybe Chris had said something? Hunter?
Michael leaned in. “I wish you’d talk to me, Nick.” He hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. “I’m not going to judge you.”
Nick’s eyes snapped to his. His heart pulsed against his rib cage. “What does that mean?”
“It means you don’t have to go through this alone.”
He knew. He had to know. How did he know? Nick rubbed his hands over his face, worried his dinner might make a reappearance if he couldn’t calm down. The restaurant simultaneously felt too cold and too hot.
The waitress came by the table to remove their plates, then left a tiny folder with the check.
Michael didn’t reach for it. “Look,” he said quietly, “I’m not going to say I know what it’s like to be in your position.”
“Lucky you.”
“You have a choice, Nick, about—”
“You think there’s a choice here?” Nick almost couldn’t speak through the sudden rage in his throat. “You think I would choose this?”
“Calm down. I’m trying to talk to you.”
Nick could barely keep his voice level. He’d been ready for anger and disappointment, but he hadn’t expected closed-mindedness. He shoved out of the booth. “Fuck you, Michael. I don’t want to talk to you.”
Michael grabbed his wrist. His voice was low and equally angry. “Damn it, Nick, grow up. There’s a time limit here. If Quinn is pregnant, you need to get your shit together and talk to someone.”
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
Nick turned around, his eyes wide. “You think Quinn is pregnant ?”
Michael stared back at him. “She’s not?”
“No. She’s not.” Nick sat back down.
Michael blew out a long breath. “Thank god. That—I just—wow.”
“Crisis averted, right?” Nick could barely keep the bitterness out of his voice. Of course Michael hadn’t guessed right.
“Something like that.” Michael pulled a credit card out of his wallet and slid it into the folder.
Nick couldn’t stop the disappointment tightening his chest. As much as he’d hated thinking Michael would be such an idiot as to believe sexuality was a choice, there’d been a measure of relief in not having to tell him.
Now they were back to square one. And they were leaving. In half an hour, he’d be at home, feeling more alone than ever.
The waitress took the leather folder and zipped away.
And Michael just seemed relieved. Quinn wasn’t pregnant, nothing else could be wrong. Reliable Nick always had a handle on everything, and wasn’t an unplanned pregnancy like the worst thing he could possibly face?
Nick didn’t want to look at his brother anymore. Being wrong wasn’t Michael’s fault—but it felt like it. “Why would you think that?” he asked, his voice quiet.
“Actually, it was Hannah’s guess.”
“Hmm.”
Michael centered on him. “It wouldn’t have been a bad thing. I just—I didn’t want you to think you couldn’t tell me.”
Nick didn’t say anything to that.
Then the waitress was back and Michael was signing his name, and this little moment was ending.
Nick didn’t move. He couldn’t. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down at water far below. A short flight through air, with an impact that might kill him.
Michael hesitated at the edge of his booth. “You ready?”
“No.”
Say it. Tell him.
Two words. He couldn’t even get two words out of his mouth.
You care more about what other people think than you care about me.
Adam had faced a lot worse than this.
Nick looked at his older brother, then shoved the empty beer glass toward him. He felt dizzy, like the air was too thin to breathe. His voice came out wispy. “You might want another one.”
“Why?”
“Because you guessed wrong.” He laughed shortly. “Way wrong.”
Michael studied him but didn’t say anything.
Nick took a breath and forced himself to look up. “Michael. I’m gay.”
CHAPTER 23
Three feet of wooden table stretched between them, but it might as well have been three miles. This moment between words and reaction seemed to stretch into infinity.
Nick had leapt off that cliff, and now he was waiting t
o see what he’d hit at the bottom.
Michael eased back into the booth and leaned his forearms on the table. He edged Nick’s half-empty soda glass toward him. “Here. You look like you’re going to pass out.”
Nick couldn’t move. He worried he would pass out if Michael didn’t say something more substantial than that.
The waitress came to the table again, obviously noting that they hadn’t left. She fidgeted, clearly unsettled by the tension.
Or maybe she was cold. Nick tried to get a handle on the temperature in the room.
She picked up the folder with the signed receipt. “Did you boys need anything else?”
“Coffee,” said Michael. “Please.”
She disappeared, leaving them in silence.
Michael cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to say this, Nick . . .”
It was like his older brother had picked up a spear and begun to shove it through Nick’s back. He felt the pain that acutely.
But then Michael winced and looked at him. “Would it be weird if I said that’s not surprising?”
What?
What?
Nick came out of his seat to reach across the table and punch Michael in the shoulder as hard as he could. “You dick. I thought you were about to throw me out of the house.”
Now Michael looked like Nick had checked his brain at the door. “Why on earth would I throw you out of the house?”
“I don’t know! I had no idea how you’d react!”
“You want me to punch you? Cause a scene? We could totally put on a show.”
However Nick had imagined this conversation going, this . . . this wasn’t it.
Some of the tension slipped from his shoulders. Nick took a long breath and blew it out through his teeth.
“How long have you been carrying that around?” said Michael.
“I don’t know.” Now Nick felt dizzy for an entirely different reason. He gave a choked laugh. “I don’t—a long time.” Then he stopped reeling and looked at his brother. “Why not surprising?”
The waitress chose that exact moment to bring their coffee. Nick was glad for the distraction, though. It gave him something else to look at, something new to do with his hands.
When she was gone, Michael said, “It’s difficult to explain. Nothing I would have put my finger on, you know?” He paused, then stirred his coffee. Pointless, since he drank it black—but maybe he needed a minor distraction, too.
“Little things,” he said. “Meaningless things. You’d go out with girls, but you never really talked about them. You’re not aggressive. You’re not . . . Jesus, Nick, I don’t know. I’ve never thought, gee, Nick might be gay, but when you said it, it was like the last piece of a puzzle, if that makes any sense.”
“It makes sense,” Nick said. He couldn’t quite believe that Michael was sitting here dropping a phrase like Nick might be gay without batting an eye.
“Am I the last to know, as usual?” Michael said.
“No. The first. Sort of.”
“The first! I should be celebrating.” Then he raised an eyebrow. “Sort of?”
“Hunter knows.”
“How’d he take it?”
Nick shrugged and wondered if there was a safe answer to that question. Well, you know. Last night, he caught me in bed . . . “Hunter was okay.”
“Yeah, I can’t see him having a problem.” Michael paused. “Not Gabriel?”
Nick stared into his mug and shook his head.
“So that’s why you two are fighting.”
“We’re not fighting.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Nick gritted his teeth and looked away. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Are you afraid of how he’ll take it?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.”
Michael didn’t say anything for the longest time. After a while, he drained his mug of coffee, then set it back in the saucer.
“I remember,” Michael said, “when you were babies, Gabriel used to scream his fool head off. All the time. He wouldn’t fall asleep at night unless Mom put you in his crib.” He smiled. “It got so that any time he’d fuss, I’d just pick you up and put you next to him.” His smile turned a little sad. “I still remember the one time Mom caught me doing it. She was fit to be tied. Michael! Do not pick up the babies!”
Nick held still. It was rare that Michael would talk about Mom and Dad.
He kept talking. “But even when you grew older and got your own beds, we’d always find you in there with him in the morning. Curled up on top of his covers, just sleeping next to him. Mom used to say that you always knew when your brother needed you.” He paused. “I used to find you like that after they died.”
Emotion balled up a fist and struck Nick square in the chest. He tried to breathe around it. He remembered that. He remembered it.
“She was wrong,” he said, his voice husky. “That was when I needed him.”
“I don’t think so, Nick,” Michael said quietly. “If that were true, he’d know your secret.”
Nick rolled that around in his head for a moment.
Michael kept going. “And look, I can’t pretend to understand this twin thing you two have. But I know Gabriel knows you. And right now, he knows you’re keeping something from him. It’s probably tearing him up.”
Nick wanted to scoff, but he couldn’t. He felt it every time he was in the house.
Too bad he was such a creepy freak, or he’d do something about it.
“Do you think maybe you resent him for not figuring it out on his own?” Michael said. “Or for not pushing you to tell him?”
Nick snapped his eyes up. “No.”
But he’d answered without thinking about it. Now the thought was lodged in his brain and he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
He could picture Gabriel right now. Sitting with Layne, working through math problems, trying to get his grades up so he could take the firefighter course in the spring.
But he was thinking about Nick. Nick could feel it.
His cell phone chimed.
A message from Gabriel.
How long do I have to leave you alone?
Nick turned the phone around to show Michael, who rolled his eyes and said, “See?”
Nick slid his fingers across the screen to respond.
But then he changed his mind, deleted what he’d typed, and shoved the phone back in his pocket.
He took a gulp of his rapidly cooling coffee. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore.”
“All right. Another question then.” Now Michael looked the slightest bit flustered. “Is there . . . you know . . . a guy in the picture?”
Nick couldn’t keep the blush from his cheeks. “Ah . . . yeah.”
“Aha. I was wondering why you told me now. Does he go to your school?”
“No.”
Michael stopped with the mug halfway to his mouth. “Please tell me he’s not thirty-five and you met him on craigslist.”
Nick glared at him. “No. Jesus, Michael. He’s nineteen. He dances with Quinn.”
“So all this time you’ve been spending with Quinn . . .”
“I’ve been spending with Adam.” His jaw tightened. “And Quinn has been spending with Tyler.”
“Whoa!” Michael’s eyebrows went way up. “Now we’re building a new puzzle.”
“Yeah, it’s fantastic.”
“Can I revel in this first-to-know status and get the whole story? Or do I have to drag that out of you during another dinner?”
“No,” said Nick, feeling something like relief for the first time in a week. “I’ll tell you everything.”
Michael had always made for a good audience, and he kept his mouth shut while Nick talked.
Until he started laying it out, Nick hadn’t realized how much he’d been carrying around. He felt like sandbags had been strapped to his back for weeks, and now someone had stabbed a hole in one of them: it all poured out. He told Michael a
bout the first night he’d met Adam, the way Quinn had gotten in trouble with some bikers on the beach. He talked about Adam’s audition, and Quinn’s role, and—hesitantly at first—about the first night at Adam’s apartment.
When Michael’s expression didn’t change to disgust, Nick gained momentum, revealing Adam’s past experience and Quinn’s home situation. He talked about the way Tyler had burned her arm, how she’d called Nick to pick her up in the woods, and how he’d snuck her into the house because she didn’t want to go home.
Michael was pissed about that. “Nick, if your friends need help, you need to tell me. Don’t sneak them inside.”
“No girls spending the night, remember?”
“That’s not the same and you know it. Are you aware that when people dump their problems on you, you don’t actually have to solve them by yourself?”
Nick didn’t have an answer for that.
Michael kept going. “I’m actually more concerned with how you describe her home situation than I am about her spending time with Tyler.”
Nick flinched. “She won’t tell me all the details. I don’t know what’s going on at home half the time.”
“If she’s hiding in the woods, it can’t be good.”
Right now, after what she’d done, Nick didn’t really give a shit if Quinn was sleeping in the woods.
No. That wasn’t true. He did care. A lot.
She sure didn’t make it easy. “She says she’s waiting for her brother to go back to school. Her family is under a lot of stress since the fire.”
Michael sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Will she talk to anyone? What about Becca?”
“She won’t speak to her because Becca never told her about the Elemental stuff. Then she got all pissed at me because I told her Tyler was a dickhead who’d just hurt her. Now she’s avoiding everyone except Tyler.” Nick’s voice turned thick with disgust. “I think he was at school to pick her up. She said she has a new ride to school.”
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