It’s been forever since he and I have had a real conversation. We text and call each other but rarely say anything. We used to be so close I had X-ray vision into his brain; we shared similar thoughts, finished each other’s sentences. Then he met Diana Holly and grew distant. Or maybe I pulled away first. It’s easy to blame her, but both my brothers took a backseat when I hooked up with Marcus. My desire for Marcus was intense, urgent, and all-consuming. I had never felt anything like it before. Nothing mattered but him.
“Why the fuck am I so exhausted?” Billy asks, plopping back on the bed.
“Because you were in jail?”
Nate appears at the door. “Wasn’t jail, Princess. It was detention.” He grabs Billy and squeezes him around the middle. “Finally, you’re up.”
They wrestle on the mattress until Billy cries uncle. “I’m empty, Nate. Seriously, I’m done.”
“Nate wins! The crowd goes wild!” His arms shoot up. “Nate the Great is king!” Dancing on his toes, he thrusts a hand-microphone at Billy. “Mr. Loser, tell our viewers how it feels to give up the title of Strongest Man Ever? Are you disappointed? Will we see a rematch?”
Mr. Quinn, how do you plead? Mr. Quinn, speak up. Mr. Quinn, the court needs to hear a verbal answer.
“How do I feel?” Billy leans forward into the mike. “Honestly? Relieved it’s over.”
“But your legacy lives on.” After one final twirl, Nate heads out. “Late lunch. Dad’s making pancakes. Although for you, Mr. Loser, I guess it’s breakfast.”
Once we’re alone, I tell Billy I’m here if he wants to talk. “Anytime. And I’m finished with classes in May. I’ll come home for the summer if it will help.”
“Thanks, Cassie. But don’t rearrange your life for me.”
“I want to rearrange my life; I want to be here. Nate too. We love you.”
Billy looks out the window. “You know what’s strange? I’m not angry. I should be, but I’m not. This is how Diana operates. When I get busy with classes or whatever, she gets anxious. She calls and texts all day, but that makes me anxious and I retreat. So, she’ll whip me into a frenzy to get my attention and then we’ll be back right where we started.”
His resigned tone alarms me. “Billy, Diana is trying to ruin your life. What she’s doing is destructive—and criminal. You have to see that.”
“Cassie, you don’t know Diana. We’ve been through a lot together. I just want her to drop the charges, so we can go back to normal.”
“You can’t go back. Even if she tries to drop them, the machine is in motion and the DA can still prosecute. No matter what happens, Billy, this accusation will always hang between you.”
“I think we can.” Turning to me, he juts out his chin. “I love her. She loves me.”
He means this, I realize. “Billy, this isn’t love. What you’re describing, what Diana is doing, is something else entirely. But there’s no way it’s love.”
*
Hours later, I slip out of the apartment, and into the car the Valmont staff has called up for me. It’s cold out but the milky sky is full of stars, so I retract the convertible top. As I head east to the FDR Drive, I feel a rush of adrenaline. I step on the gas. The circumference of Manhattan is twenty-seven miles. The fastest recorded time for circling the city is twenty-four minutes, which averages to sixty-six miles an hour. Tonight, I will crush that. Twenty-four minutes includes red lights, which I will bypass. There’s always traffic in New York City, but I know the highways like I know my own body. I gather speed, hit forty, forty-five, fifty. Dodging and weaving, I race to the bend of the horizon. Soon, the car falls away. It’s just me, flying through space, weightless and untethered. I can’t hear. I can’t see. I don’t feel. Out here, it’s as peaceful, as soundless, as sleep. Out here, it’s a dream.
13
ON WEDNESDAY, BILLY WAKES UP EARLY. HE TELLS MAEVE to take the day off and makes challah French toast for the whole family. “I need hobbies,” he says. “It’s gonna be a long spring.” He’s not as disconnected as yesterday, but his eyes are unfocused, and he’s filled with manic energy as he gathers plates and forks. He’s panicking, I can tell.
“Cassie,” he asks, wearing a white apron patterned with daisies as he dishes up the French toast. “Would you rather I make you egg whites?”
“Thanks,” I tell him. “But I’m fine with French toast.”
“How about Styrofoam?” Nate asks. “No calories in Styrofoam.”
“No fiber either, Smart Guy,” I say.
In response, Nate takes a huge bite of French toast. He chews with his mouth open, making sure I can see.
“Seriously, Nate?” Lawrence asks. “How old are you again?”
DeFiore calls while we’re eating, and Lawrence puts him on speakerphone. He wants to meet with us tomorrow. Lawrence says sure, absolutely, wouldn’t miss it for the world, like it’s a movie he’s dying to see. His falseness puts me on edge, and it’s this edginess that compels me to announce I’m heading back to school after we see DeFiore. “I’m sorry, Lawrence, but I have a midterm, classes, and lots to take care of.”
“I’d prefer you stay, Cassie. It would mean a lot to Billy.”
“Oh, no way, Dad,” Billy says. “Don’t put me in the middle. Let her live her life.”
“It’s not just you,” Lawrence tells him. “Eleanor and I need her here too.”
This aggravates me. “Keep pressuring me, and I’ll leave right this minute. I don’t want to fight.”
Of course, I want to fight. Otherwise, I would’ve kept my mouth shut. But being home is taking a toll. I’m not sleeping well, my head is buzzing, and I’m reverting to old habits. Yesterday, while Billy slept, Nate and I got stoned and watched Netflix when I was supposed to be reviewing my notes for my exams. When I’m here, time is elastic, its edges collapse, and I lose track of myself. I’m an adult, but also a child. If I don’t set boundaries, I’ll give in, and stay forever.
The other issue is Marcus, who’s started reaching out again. He, too, has uncanny radar. I let his calls go to voicemail, but the pull to answer makes my fingers dance, my body twitch. I imagine him waiting for his wife to fall asleep then sneaking down the hall to use the burner phone he bought specially to contact me. We haven’t spoken in six months, although I admit I save his messages to replay during weak moments. I need you, Cassie. I miss you. I just want to say hi. But no matter how much I wish I could talk to him, no matter how much I want to hear his voice, I can’t risk getting dragged back in.
Nate texts me:
apologize, princess. be the bigger person. This week is rough for everyone I know; I’m not an idiot
You’re not? His bday is tomorrow. You just said you’d rather sit in class than be with him Oh shit. Looking up, I realize everyone is waiting for me and Lawrence to finish arguing. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I wasn’t thinking. Of course, I’ll stay for your birthday.”
“Thanks, Cassie. That means a lot to me. I’m thrilled you’ll be here to celebrate.”