No one really talked about the closet incident after it happened. For about a week, Maverick went to Kodiak’s house and he didn’t come to ours, but it wasn’t because of me. River was the issue. Lainey and my mom had closed-door conversations, and I saw Queenie every day during that time.
The longer they kept us apart, the worse my anxiety got, and I started having nightmares about being locked in the closet. I slept in River’s room, and still the nightmares kept coming. Eventually they gave in and let Kodiak come over when River was out with friends. I still remember how hard it was not to rush up and hug him, to soak in the balm of his presence like a sponge.
He’d looked so tired, like me. And worn out, like me.
That event had flipped a switch in both of us. We recognized exactly what we could do for each other, and it became . . . addictive. I can see now how dangerous that probably was. Power wielded over each other has the ability to both build and break.
“Kodiak was only trying to help me. That’s all he was ever trying to do. It just became unhealthy for both of us.” At least that’s what our parents eventually decided.
BJ stays silent for a while. “But then something happened two years ago with you guys, when he was a sophomore here.”
My head snaps in his direction. “Nothing ha—”
I stop, because he’s giving me the BJ fuck-off look. “He spiraled after winter break. So whatever happened was big. Kody went dark after that. He didn’t eat for days, and he’s always so rigid about everything. He spent hours at the gym, like he was punishing himself. And girls started talking. Like, he’d never been big on hookups, but there were rumors . . .”
I don’t want to think about Kodiak with an endless stream of girls, but I can’t help but be curious. “What kind of rumors?”
“Like, he wouldn’t let anyone touch him.” BJ blows out a breath. “I should not be telling you this shit.”
“What do you mean he wouldn’t let anyone touch him? I’ve seen girls put their hands on him plenty of times.”
“I don’t know. It’s just rumors.”
“Which are usually built on a grain of truth.”
“All I’m saying is whatever happened or didn’t happen between the two of you over winter break that year really messed him up—more than he already is, anyway. I can’t imagine what it’s like to live inside his head. It’s bad enough that he’s an elite athlete, but to be that smart too? It’s like he can predict his own mistakes before he makes them. It would drive me mental.”
I nod. “His panic attacks used to be legendary.”
“They still are; he just suffers silently now.”
I don’t ask what that means.Chapter FifteenNo Empty Spaces
Lavender
Present day
A LITTLE WHILE later BJ and I realize that with the parents descending, we’re going to need the house not to look like a complete man cave sty so we rush around, cleaning up the worst of the mess. It takes us an entire hour to manage the kitchen and the living room.
The backyard could be better, but there’s not a lot we can do with the limited time we have. BJ tosses the empties and the Solo cups into garbage bags before the doorbell rings.
The second I open it, the air is crushed out of me, thanks to my mom’s hug. I sink into her, absorbing her love. We’ve always been close. We love a lot of the same things—minus math—and being the only girl, the youngest, and having some massive social anxiety has made me a bit of a mama’s girl. Which I’m totally okay with.
“I am so, so sorry, sweetie,” she whispers into my ear.
I pat her back. “We’re okay.”
She gives me another squeeze and mutters, “No, I meant that Gigi and Pops are planning to stop by this afternoon, and she’s bringing you a present. I tried to tell her now is not the time, but she insisted, and honestly, you kinda want it because it’s awesome, but I’m still sorry. Just don’t open it in front of everyone.” She holds me at arm’s length, her expression somewhere between empathy, amusement, and worry.
“Thanks for the warning.” My gigi is awesome. She’s also very, very liberal. I’ve amassed an entire drawer full of personal pleasure devices because she wants to make sure I know my own body before anyone else does. The message is a good one, but it can be embarrassing when she hands these things to me in front of my family.
“I didn’t want you to walk into that scenario unprepared.” Mom cups my face between her hands. “You look tired. Are you sleeping okay? How about eating? Have you been moopy? I brought a new bottle of lactose pills for you.”