“Yup. Well … worked there. I should call them and tell them I’m not coming in this week. Or ever, if I can help it. I’m so done with that town. I understand why you never came back.”
“You can stay with me as long as you want,” I say. “And not going home wasn’t by choice. Mom and Dad told me to not bother, and I was never offended by it because I didn’t want to be there just as much as they didn’t want me there. Thought I’d turn you. Guess they were right.”
Jethro snorts. “Yeah. You totally turned me gay, bro. Better watch out for Wade. I bet we both gave him the gay cooties.”
I shouldn’t laugh. The morons that are my parents probably think that’s actually true.
“If they should worry about anyone, it’s Fern. She’s super butch for a fourteen-year-old, and she’s on the softball team.”
“Way to stereotype, JJ.”
He knees the back of my seat. “Don’t call me that, asswipe.”
“Sorry, Jethro.”
Jethro smacks me over the head, and I laugh.
“Thank God, I’m an only child,” Noah mumbles.
“How I wish you could’ve taken Noah home to Mom and Dad,” Jethro says. “It would be like my birthdays and Christmases all in one seeing their racist, homophobic heads explode.”
Noah reaches for my leg. “I might love your brother.”
“Just wait. By the end of the week, you’ll want to kill him,” I say.
My brother hits me again. “I would protest, but Matt’s probably right.”
A month ago, I was alone in the world. Sitting here with my brother and a guy I’m beginning to care for, I realize I have people in my corner. My heart sinks at that thought because, with it, the weight of my decision becomes heavier. Now I have a brother to support and the potential to walk away from Noah with a broken heart. Or maybe break his.
I examine Noah’s face as he drives, taking in his easy smile and relaxed posture and know I can’t break his heart when he’s not open to letting anyone inside it.
Which means the only one open to getting hurt is me.
I pace Noah’s living room, listening to the same message I got when I tried to call Char after I was outed.
The number you’re trying to call is unable to be reached.
“They move fast,” I say. “They’ve already canceled her phone. Probably bought her a new one with my money.” I thought they blocked my number, but after trying with Jethro’s phone earlier, I decided to try from Noah’s. That’s not working either.
“Nah, they would’ve just bought a new sim card with a new phone number,” Noah says.
“Not the point.”
“Did Jet say he had Char’s baby daddy’s number?”
“And I’m just supposed to call some random guy and be all ‘Hey, I heard you knocked up my sister. Can I talk to her?’”
Noah laughs. “Could work.”
With a deep breath, I get Bo’s number from the piece of paper Jethro gave me before going to bed. I have no idea what I’m going to say if he answers, so I’ll just wing it.
“Can you stop pacing,” Noah asks from the couch. “I’m getting dizzy just watching you.”
“No.”
“No what?” a guy’s voice says through the phone.
I finally stop pacing and can’t for the life of me say hello like a normal person. “Can I talk to Char?”
“Who the fuck’s calling my girl?”
I clear my throat and try not to judge Char’s choice in men. “Her brother.”
There’s a scuffling noise, and I let out a breath of relief when Char’s voice comes on the line.
“Jet?”
“It’s Matt, actually.”
There’s a long silence where I start pacing again.
“Ah. Mr. Bigshot finally pulled his head outta his ass.”
“That’s not fair. I had no way of contacting you. The only reason I do now is because of Jethro.”
“Is Jet okay?”
“He’s fine, he’s stayin’ with me, but he told me some things I had no idea about. First, you’re pregnant?”
She swears under her breath. “I told him not to tell you if he found you.”
“Why? I’m gonna be an uncle. That’s pretty cool.”
“No, you’re not.” Her voice is quiet, and my stomach sinks.
“Oh.” Guess when it comes to taking sides, Char is firmly on team homophobe.
“Wait, no. Not because you’re gay. I couldn’t care less about that, but it’s not like you’re ever comin’ home, are ya? Mom and Dad won’t let you. Or Jet.”
“About that … Char, I …” Shit, why is this so hard? “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you. Financially or otherwise.”
“It’s not your job.”
“I know, but I wanted to help. I’ve been helping. Or, I thought I was.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve been sendin’ money to Mom and Dad for four years, and they were supposed to split it between y’all. Jethro tells me they kept it.”
“Asshats,” she hisses. “I asked them to help out with the baby, and they said they’re broke.”