I see the other boy, Kurt. He resembles Eric, but his eyes are blue, and his hair is blond. He looks like his mother.
“Are you moving to Boston after you graduate?”
“No,” I say gently. “My mom is in a rehabilitation center after a stroke incident. I’m not sure where I’ll end up.”
“Oh no, that’s terrible. It must be hard with Kurt at school and you in Sparrow Lake.”
I’m not sure what to say. Tell the truth? Play along?
“Eric is also in Sparrow Lake.”
“Tell me, how serious are you and Kurt?”
I give in.
“Um, we’re dating. It’s kind of new.”
She hooks her arm through mine and we leave. When we get back to the ballroom, she drifts off to talk to some guests while I search for Eric.
I wave at him across the room, and he downs his champagne and breaks away from his father. He takes my hand and leads me through the crowd and outside to a covered patio with twinkling lights everywhere. Gas heaters line the perimeter. A few people mill around, but it’s mostly empty. In the distance, I can make out a lake covered in a white swath of snow.
He squeezes my hand. “What did Mom say?”
I wince, straining for tactful, but . . . “She called me Janis and referred to you as your brother. She showed me his room.”
He shuts his eyes and goes to the railing and gazes off into the distance. His hands clench the ornamental iron. “I’m sorry. She isn’t always like that. It’s the time of year. He died in December and she’s delicate.”
He pauses a moment, then continues.
“She wishes it were true, you know,” he murmurs. “She loved him more than me.”
I keep my face impassive even as his words make me want to gasp.
He sighs. “He dated this girl named Janis. And then your name is similar. She calls me on the phone sometimes and pretends I’m Kurt. I just go along.”
“I did the same. I didn’t know what else to do.”
He scrubs his face. “Kurt ticked all the boxes for them. Even in death, I can’t compete.”
“You’re pretty awesome too.”
He glances up at the stars. “Maybe.”
“No, you are,” I insist. “Do you want to be him? Is that what law school is about?”
Tormented topaz eyes catch mine. “I’m trying to be what my parents want.”
I shake my head, trying to make sense of it. “Because you feel guilty that you were there when your brother died?”
“I’m the one who walked in that trailer. If I hadn’t, he’d still be here.”
“Oh, Eric. It’s not your fault and your brother wouldn’t want you to think that.”
“Let’s drop it, yeah?”
“No,” I insist, wanting to help. “You can’t live up to a ghost that your parents have on a pedestal.” He was doing drugs, so he wasn’t that perfect. I hold my tongue on that point. “You have to think about who you are and what you need.”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” he says in an abrupt tone.
I flinch.
He groans. “Sorry, Julia. It’s just . . . being here is hard for me. It brings back some weird feelings.”
Oh, I can see why.
28
Eric
I throw an arm around her, itching to push the issue of Kurt behind us. “You’re starting to get cold. Want to go in?”
She nods. “They’re probably looking for you.”
We walk inside and grab more champagne from the bar. The room has thickened with people, the din of noise louder.
“Eric?” a voice says behind me.
I turn to find one of my father’s clients. “Michael McClure,” he says, shaking my hand. “I just wanted to say congrats on the acceptance to Hawthorne Law.”
I introduce Julia, and we exchange stilted small talk.
I’m talking about my last hockey game—it’s the only thing I know well—when I see Dr. and Mrs. Cavendish stroll into the entrance of the ballroom, dripping with arrogance as they hold their noses in the air. They speak to my parents, acknowledging them with a haughtiness that screams I’m richer than you.
I cringe as my dad fawns over them, getting them drinks and laughing loudly at their conversation.
I nearly spit out my champagne when Parker walks in behind them.
He’s never come to one of these parties, and he sure as hell isn’t welcome.
Wearing a smug expression, he throws back a glass of whiskey as he scans the area. He glares at me, then Julia. A livid expression flashes on his face. His throat moves.