“What was he playing?” Eli asks.
“Guess.”
“I’ll Be Watching You,” Levi says.
“No, but congrats on finding the one song that would have actually been creepier,” Silas says. It’s hard to tell in the low light, but I think Levi blushes slightly.
“I Will Always Love You,” I guess.
“Come on, y’all,” Silas says. “Really?”
“In Your Eyes,” Eli says, like it’s obvious. “You haven’t seen Say Anything?”
Levi and I just shake our heads, and Silas starts laughing.
“Brett didn’t come up with the boombox thing,” he says. “It’s from a movie.”
“That explains a lot, actually,” Levi mutters.
“And then when you got there, he tried to propose to you?” Eli says. “That’s not how the movie goes.”
“Something like that,” Silas says. “The asshole got down on one knee in my parents’ driveway and requested my permission to marry my sister. Meanwhile, now that I’m there, June’s come down and is loudly and firmly rejecting his offer of marriage, so I just told him that if I saw him anywhere near her again he’d learn the meaning of the word no right quick, because apparently when she said it several dozen times he didn’t believe her.”
“Was the ring at least nice?” asks Eli.
“Hell if I know,” Silas says, taking another drink. “It was big. Probably cost a lot of his daddy’s money.”
He clears his throat.
“Speaking of rings, how’s your engagement with Charlie going?” Silas asks, raising one eyebrow at the word engagement.
“It’s going well,” I say, levelly, and narrow my eyes at Levi.
“How does that work?” Silas asks. “Are you two gonna stage a screaming match on Main Street in a few months so you can break up, or just tell people it wasn’t working?”
I’m still glaring at Levi. My oldest brother is usually excellent at keeping secrets.
Usually.
“You told Silas?” I ask.
“Hey,” Silas says.
Levi sighs.
“I couldn’t keep your web of lies straight,” he says.
“It’s not a web,” I tell him, even thought my stomach twists slightly. “There’s the one lie, Levi. It’s not hard.”
He crosses one ankle over a knee, then sticks one thumb out like he’s about to list something off.
“First, you’ve got your whole we’re completely platonic best friends situation going on for several years now,” Levi starts. “Which, frankly, I’d have been a fool to believe. Next,” he says, sticking out a forefinger, “You’ve got your we’re engaged for custody reasons but not really situation, which involves a fair amount of public canoodling—"
“Canoodling?” Eli and Silas say in unison.
Levi ignores them.
“—which you seem more than happy to do, and thirdly,” he says, sticking out another finger, “there’s the matter of where you were all last weekend while Rusty was with Crystal.”
There’s a brief silence.
“He was at Charlie’s, right?” Silas quietly asks Levi.
“Right,” Eli and Levi both confirm, and I shut my eyes briefly in consternation. I don’t bother asking how they know, because Sprucevale is tiny and everyone is nosy.
Just last year, Eli thought it was a huge secret that he was spending most of his nights at Violet’s house for a full month.
It wasn’t. Not even close.
“We’re supposedly engaged,” I say. “If we were really engaged, isn’t that where I’d—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, none of us is stupid,” Eli says. “Jesus, Daniel, we’re all glad that you finally got with Charlie. It was about damn time.”
“So you really are engaged,” Silas asks.
“No,” I say.
“You’re sticking it to her, but you’re not engaged,” he says.
“Right,” I say, for simplicity’s sake.
“And most everyone thinks you’re really engaged for real, though some people think that you’re still just friends and faking the engagement, and some other people—" he spins his finger around in the air, indicating the four of us in the circle, “know the truth, which is that you’re getting freaky on the regular but aren’t actually going to get married.”
“Right,” I say again.
“I got bad news, brother,” Silas says. “That is a one hundred percent, grade A, bonafide web of lies right there.”
“You want to hear the rest?” I ask, draining my beer, in the mood to share my problems.
Eli and Levi both lean forward.
“Hell yeah,” Silas says.
“Crystal knows it’s fake,” I say.
Silas lets out a whistle.
“I think Rusty must have told her,” I say, leaning back in the chair, my head against cool wood, and close my eyes.
I’ve called Crystal a dozen times since she pulled out of my driveway on Sunday. I’ve left her at least four polite voicemails, requesting that we discuss this matter like adults.
It’s gotten me nowhere. I don’t know what she knows or what she thinks she knows. I don’t know if she somehow pulled the semi-truth out of her ass and is bluffing with it.
“You told Rusty?” Silas asks.
“Rusty wouldn’t tell,” Levi says, frowning.
“Rusty’s good at keeping secrets,” Eli confirms.
“You bring her wedding cake almost every weekend and think I don’t know about it,” I tell Eli, my eyes still closed.