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Jake points at Dally. ‘Then why were you there?’
‘I was creeped out at the store and called for back-up,’ I say before Dally has a chance to speak.
Jake glances back and forth between me and Dally, searching for any sign he can launch himself back at his best friend. But Dally’s face is impassive and I hold my ground. I will not let Dally get any more hurt when he hasn’t done anything to deserve it.
Jake’s trying to process all this information, but I can see he’s struggling. ‘So you haven’t—’
‘No,’ I answer firmly. Dally’s quiet.
Jake looks away from me to Dally. His mouth tightens. ‘And you wouldn’t—’
Dally answers before I can. ‘I would if she asked me. Every time.’
Silence. Dead silence. Jake looks at his best friend, our roommate, the closest person he has to a brother, like he’s a stranger.
And it’s all my fault.
‘He doesn’t mean it,’ I whisper. ‘He wouldn’t.’
‘I would,’ Dally assures Jake, his voice steady. ‘I’ve wanted to for months.’
I whirl toward Dally, mind blown. ‘You have?’
His mouth quirks and that eyebrow goes up. ‘Babe.’
Wait … it has been months since I’ve intercepted any hook-up calls. Or since I’ve seen him go out at night. He gives the barest hint of a nod when he sees I’ve put the pieces together.
I may understand what this means, but Jake does not. He shakes his head and looks away from us. His voice is flat. Cold. ‘Get out.’
My brother couldn’t have actually said that. I step toward him. ‘Jake—?’
But Dally’s already at the island, stuffing his bag with the rest of his supplies. I look at him, taking a step his way. ‘Dally—?’
His eyes flick to Jake, who’s watching him stony-faced. Dally zips up his bag, hefts it over his shoulder, and heads toward the front door. I follow, unable to believe this is happening.
Dally opens the front door. Grabs his bike key from the hook.
‘Stay,’ I beg. ‘We can figure this out.’
He shakes his head, wry smile in place as he brushes his thumb over my lower lip. ‘Nah. No happily ever afters, remember, brown eyes? Gotta stick to the plan.’
I stare at the door long after it’s closed. Long after Dally’s motorcycle starts and he drives away down the street.
‘This isn’t how it was supposed to go,’ I mumble, hollow feeling setting over me.
‘Well, what did you expect, Cat?’ Jake asks from behind me. He sounds tired. Like he did after he got home from school and helped me scatter our parents’ ashes along the point. ‘He was my best friend. And somehow, screwing him seemed like a good idea?’
I slowly turn and look at him. I love my brother. I’ve loved him more since we lost my parents. But I don’t know him right now. And I don’t want to.
One of our last family portraits hangs crookedly on the wall. My mom and dad smile out from the pictur
e. Jake and I stand near them. Even Dally’s there, beardless, Jake’s arm around his shoulder. My parents said he’d been living with us long enough that he needed to stop taking the pictures and be in them instead. I reach up and straighten the frame, ignoring the tiny pieces of glass that tinkle to the ground from the movement.
‘They would be so angry with us,’ I whisper, tears starting to spill over as I look at their smiling faces.
Jake’s spine straightens. He goes upstairs without another word, leaving me alone in the hallway of a broken home.
Day 4 — Night
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