Who We Are (The Seafare Chronicles 2)

I shiver again. He notices, and his hand, hidden behind me, brushes slightly against my ass. I don’t even jump or scowl at him. Odd.

“The tofeatloaf will need a moment to settle,” Alice announces with a frown, poking it with a finger. I almost expect it to reach out and poke her back. Or bite her arm off. “Dear, will you help me set the table?”

Jerry moves away from me and Otter and obliges his wife without another word. Before I can turn and say anything to Otter ( Mexico! ) , Anna and Creed stand before us, looking terrifyingly united in their matching expressions of resolve. I stare back at them, waiting for one of them to make the first move. There seems to be such a rift between the four of us, and I don’t know what to do to fix it. I think about opening my mouth just for shits and giggles to see what comes out, but Creed beats me to it. Damn him.

“We’ll be right back, Mom,” he calls out over his shoulder. “We’ve got to talk to Bear and Otter for a moment.” She waves her hand in an easy dismissal.

Neat.

Creed grabs me by the arm and pulls me none too gently out of the kitchen, leaving Anna and Otter to follow. I catch the Kid’s eyes, who’s looking at me like he’s about to go on the attack, but I shake my head just once, and he settles, his gaze following me out of the room.

I’M GOING to be upfront with you, probably a little more than I’ve been since we started talking again. It’s not like I’m trying to hide things, but I can’t see how this conversation is going to go without you figuring out just how fucking miserable I am about this whole situation with Creed. I’ve had a problem with honesty for quite a while, but obviously not because I enjoy it. I couldn’t (and still kind of don’t) stand the thought of those around me thinking less of me, that I’d disappointed them somehow with the choices I’ve made. It’s not fair, I know, that I ke

ep talking bullshit when it could be so easy to have everything out in the open, consequences be damned.

But fuck that. I think about the consequences incessantly. I worry over them to a point that it’s almost paralyzing, and the only thing I can do is freak out about what the hell is going to happen next. You don’t need to tell me this because I already know it. Consider it one of my defining traits, no matter how ridiculous it is. I don’t know if we could have lived through the fallout if I hadn’t second-guessed everything I thought to be true. It’s not easy when your view of the world has so completely shifted that it’s barely recognizable.

And now that it seems to be shifting to some normalcy (there’s that word again, normal) there are still things tugging at it, pulling it out of whack. And while it can’t all rest on him, the biggest part of it is Creed.

Otter had tried to talk to me about him, although not on Creed’s behalf.

We’d both agreed that Creed wasn’t a homophobe, but that was as far as we could get. As much as I love him, Otter just can’t understand what it is I have with his brother. Sure, they are actually brothers, but it’s not the same, at least in my eyes. Otter and Anna had been there almost as long as Creed had been, and even though I’d started out loving one and then the other, Creed was there no matter what, and through all the shit, he remained my constant in this world. I’m an ass, I know, for thinking that not having Anna around is easier for me than not having Creed around. I can only say this because it’s true. I love her, and I think part of me always will, but I need him. I need him in my corner. I need to know I can pick up the phone and call him and talk about whatever just because we can.

I know, I know: I, I, I. Same old shit, right?

But I don’t know how to fix it because I don’t know what the fuck is wrong. Is it because I lied to him about Otter and me? Is it really about the fact that there is an Otter and me? Or is it something as simple as a combination of all the shit I’ve put him through for the last three years? I leaned on him so much. Probably too much. Just because I had to deal with her leaving doesn’t mean he had to.

But he did. And that’s why I’ve got to fix this. I can’t have this go on anymore. I have to get my best friend back.

WHICH is what I want to say. But when I open my mouth, what comes out when we reach the back patio and they turn to face me is, “Are you guys still messing around? Or whatever?”

My brain is broken and I missed the recall order.

There’s a beat of silence where everyone feels embarrassed for me, but they are used to me by now not thinking before I speak, so I’m almost relieved when they let my rudeness slide.

“We’re taking it as it goes,” Anna tells me softly. They stand close to each other again, and Otter stands in my space, and I almost wonder if it’s us versus them, and I can’t stop myself from thinking about the last time I’d actually felt like that, when Creed had—

does anna know why otter left to begin with

—felt the need to cut me out, where he’d retaliated in the only way he knew how. I know I’d backed him into a corner—

that’s the real reason otter left

—and it was no fault but my own, but I can’t stop the bitterness from welling in me, that he’d seem to give up on me so easily because—

everything else was a lie

—he couldn’t seem to handle the fact that his best friend and his brother had found something together, even if it had never started out to be like that.

I try to stop the anger from rising, because anger can’t fix anything right now. It’ll only make things worse, and I already have a feeling tonight is going to be a blowout.

“That’s… cool,” I mumble, feeling Otter reaching down and squeezing my hand. I look up at him, and he’s calm as he watches me, and when he squeezes my hand again, I know what he’s trying to say, to just hear them out, whatever they wanted to say before I decided to ask them if they were still fucking. I’m surprised I don’t get punched in the face more than I do, to be perfectly honest.

“I’m happy for you guys,” I try again, even though it sounds like I’d rather have my balls stabbed with a pair of garden shears. “Really.”

Anna rolls her eyes at me, but I see the corners of her mouth begin to quirk. “Same old Papa Bear,” she says quietly.

“Same old me,” I agree. For better or worse.