“Join the fucking club. We’ve got beer.”
I wish he’d just turn around and look at me. He is trying to keep his distance, and I’m guessing it is out of respect for his brother.
Silence rings between us. “What happened to the writing?” I ask, finally.
“I grew up, that’s what happened.” A sardonic smile touches his lips. His eyes sweep over me quickly, stealing one glance before he shifts his gaze back to the brown fence. “It was time to earn a paycheck.”
“Getting a paycheck and writing are not mutually exclusive. You can work and still be a published author,” I say.
Joe whips his head my way, flicking his cigarette into a puddle of muddy melted ice. Smoke fans from both his nostrils, and his eyes are narrowed into dangerous slits. “Tell me more about chasing your dream, Miss Giving Random Tours in Salem to Bored Teenagers. Glass house, baby.” He raps the glass door behind my shoulder.
I stumble back from the impact of his words. I’m not used to this version of him. The callous one. Then again, I’m not used to him at all.
“How do you know?”
“Dom told me. What are you doing in Salem, anyway?”
“I didn’t go to Berkeley.” I offer this piece of information as concession. To show I’m not here to argue. That I want to explain.
“Why?” he asks.
“My mom died. A few days after I came back from Spain, actually.”
Finally, he drops the mask of indifference and looks at me. Really looks at me. His eyes are full. Full of things I want to dissect and drown in. For a second, I think he might hug me. But then he shoves his fists deep into his back pockets to stop himself, and my heart drops in my chest.
“Oh, shit. I’m really sorry, Ever.”
Ever. To hear my name on his lips again makes me want to shatter into rubble. It is the first time I feel like he is who I remember him to be. A boy who made me feel as bright and magnificent as the sun.
“Thank you.”
“How’d it happen?”
“She fell under a train at the BART.” I swallow hard. “To save me.”
Joe closes his eyes. “Double shit.”
Tears sting the back of my eyes. I haven’t told Dom how it happened. Or Nora. I haven’t told anyone. It’s so intimate . . . so violent . . .
Joe’s resolve breaks. Mine does too. Our bodies explode together in a desperate hug. It’s of the bone-crushing variety. Fingers clawing, bodies meshing together. So fierce and protective I never want to leave his arms. I shudder at his touch. I feel him shaking too. He strokes the back of my head. I weep until I run out of tears. Time evaporates into the atmosphere. Then I remember his shoulder is not mine to cry on.
Pulling away, I drink him in. I now know why I was drawn to Dom the first time we met. Both brothers have the same eyes. Marble blue, with gray dots.
Neither of us mentions that I stopped answering his texts and calls. That I disappeared from the face of the earth. I imagine he puts two and two together.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. Alive and safe. I wondered about that, you know,” I croak. His face turns steely again when he remembers how abruptly we parted ways. He takes a step back, putting space between us. “I’m sorry I—”
“Don’t,” he says, cutting me off. “You had a lot on your plate. And it’s for the best. We were kids. We rode the hormone train together. You got off first. Not your fault. It sucked at the time, but I got over it. I’m a big boy.”
It rips me open when he says that, even though I know it shouldn’t. Guilt consumes me. I feel horrible that Joe has to see his brother and me together. But I also feel terrible that Dom, unbeknownst to him, inserted himself into this messy situation.
“I’m happy with Dom,” I say quietly. Maybe happy is not the right word. I haven’t been happy in a long time. But existing hurts less when Dom’s around.
“Great,” he says matter-of-factly. “That’s great. Dom’s a stand-up guy. He is kindhearted and responsible and, well, the better-looking one, if I’m honest.”
My nostrils flare. Why is he like that?
Like what? Loyal to his big brother and refusing to throw himself at you?
“Look, it’s no one’s fault it happened this way.” I don’t know why I’m saying this. He knows. He knows this is all a terrible coincidence.
“No. Now that I know why you disappeared, I can’t fault you for it. But even if you didn’t have a good reason, I’m hardly crushed.” An amused, crooked smirk touches his lips. I want to die. Perish. “It’s a surprise, is all. But we’re going to be grown-ups about it, so no harm done.”