“Shut your fucking mouth. You know nothing.”
“I know that Graham is in love with you. And if you touch me,” I say when he moves toward me, “I’ll tell Mom and Dad. I’ll tell the world.”
“They won’
t believe you.”
“I don’t care. I’ll still tell ’em.”
“You think I care?”
“I know you do.” I see the panic in his eyes. Holy shit, my brother is gay. I mean, it doesn’t change anything. He’s still a douche, but this is huge. It makes no sense. I never saw this coming. Never. “Wow. I’m a little flabbergasted.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So, you aren’t gay?” I ask, the cold, blank stare he is setting me with giving me chills. He looks so angry, so upset, and somewhere deep inside me, I feel for him. But then I remember what he has done to me, and my sympathy is nowhere in sight.
Especially when he yells, “Fuck you, Avery! Go slit your wrists.”
“That’s all you have on me,” I murmur, shaking my head, my last ounce of sympathy flying out the window. “But at least I’ve never been anyone but myself. I may have been a little messed up, but I’ve always been me. You, though, you’re hiding, tormented by the man you really are. So really, who’s suffering? Because I’m not. I’m happy. You…You’re just sad.”
“I’m not hiding shit.”
“Oh? Really, call Graham over. I’d love to meet him.”
His eyes are wild, his jaw clenching, and I really don’t know this person. Where is the twin who used to play dolls with me when we were little? Oh. Wow, maybe there were signs?
“Just fucking go. Get out of my life.”
“I’m leaving, after I eat my lunch and watch you squirm with nervousness that I could out you.” I hate that it has come to this. I’m not a mean person, but he’s done this. He’s caused me to be as nasty to him as he has been to me.
“You wouldn’t dare. I’d kill you.”
See? “I’m not scared of you, Matty. How could I be? You’re a fraud. I may be considered crazy and suicidal, but at least I’m me.”
“Which is nothing.”
“To you, I’m nothing. But I’m something to someone special.”
“Ha, that Sinclair bastard? Please, he’s using you.”
“Aw, are you jealous my boyfriend is hotter than yours?” I ask.
He takes a step toward me, venom in his voice. “Shut your fucking mouth!”
“Get away from me.”
“I’m allowing you to breathe, Avery. Remember that,” he seethes and I scoff.
“Please. You won’t touch me,” I say, holding up my phone to show that I’ve been recording this whole conversation. “One click, it’s on Facebook.” His eyes move to my phone as I hit the button and my voice fills the room, asking if he is gay. “Now stay the fuck away from me.”
Shaking his head, he glares. “Fine, as long as you stay away from me.”
He holds my gaze and I actually feel the loss of him. We’ve drawn the line in the sand. We will never have a relationship after this, not that I expected we could anyway.
But it still hurts as he points at me. “Don’t you dare say anything.”
“I don’t owe you anything,” I say simply. The panic is flashing in his eyes. He snatches his phone and storms out of the kitchen. When I hear the front door slam, I fall back into a chair and shake my head.