James doesn’t look at me. He keeps his gaze on the ground.
“They’re gonna be glad to hear you’re not hurt,” I continue. “What are you doing all the way out here?”
James says nothing. I’m suddenly reminded of that night at the fair when he wouldn’t speak to me. It was the last time the three of us were together, wasn’t it? I guess it’s been much longer since I’ve seen James than I remember. I soften my voice again. “How about you and I head on home, alright?”
“No.”
“Your parents are really worried—” I start.
“I don’t want to go home!” he shouts back.
“Is something wrong? You know you can tell me.”
I’m sure this has something to do with Sam. But I don’t know how to approach the conversation. I can’t imagine what it feels like to lose a brother. This is a kind of pain I’ll never understand. I try to take James’s hand, but he pulls it away.
“Leave me alone,” he says, clenching his arms. “I’m not going home. Get away from me!”
It pains me to hear him talk this way. I wish I could make things better. “Can you at least tell me why you ran away?” I ask.
James says nothing.
“Is it because of Sam…” I whisper. “Because he’s not there?”
“No,” James says, shaking his head. “Because he hates me!”
“Why would you think that? Of course Sam doesn’t hate you.”
“Yes, he does! He told me!”
“When did Sam tell you that?”
James drops his face in his hands, trying to hide his tears from me. “When I went into his room and broke his microphone. He said he hated me.”
I touch his shoulder and say, “James, listen to me. Sometimes people say that when they’re mad, but they don’t mean it. Sam doesn’t hate you—”
“But he stopped talking to me!” he cries. “He was ignoring me! Right before he died.”
My heart breaks from hearing this. I wipe my eyes and take James by the hands. “Sam loves you, okay? Brothers fight all the time and say things they don’t mean. If Sam was here, he would tell you this himself.”
James wipes his tears with his sleeve. “You don’t know that. Why do you even care? You don’t even like me!”
“Of course I do—how could you say that?”
“You don’t care about us! You only liked Sam! You only came to see him.”
“That isn’t true,” I say. “You and I are friends, too. I care about your whole family.”
“That’s a lie! Cuz when Sam died, you never came over, and you never talked to us again! It’s like you died, too.”
A sharp pain stabs through my chest as the weight of this hits me. I can barely fight back the tears. I open my mouth, and find myself unable to speak. I should have come by and checked up on his family after Sam died. I never thought about what James must be going through. “I—I’m sorry, James. I shouldn’t have left you like that. I should have tried…” My voice gives out. Because I don’t know what else to say to make James forgive me. Maybe the reason I avoided their family was because I couldn’t bear to see them without Sam. Because I didn’t want to be reminded he was gone. But this doesn’t matter. I should have been there for James. Instead, I made things harder for him. I abandoned him, too.
“I’m not going home,” James cries.
I wish I could get through to him. But he won’t even look at me. I can’t blame him, though. If only there was something I could do to make it better. It pains me to see him like this. I need to do something, but I’m not sure what. I think of Sam. He would know what to say if he was here. He’s the only person James will listen to right now. A thought occurs to me. Our connection is weakening, but I need to do something. I can’t let James spend the rest of his life thinking Sam hated him.
As I step away from the swing set for a moment, I pull out my phone and call Sam again. He picks up after the first ring.
“Did you find him? Is he okay?”
“I’m with him now. Don’t worry.”
Sam’s voice floods with relief. “Where was he?”
“At the park. Just like you said.”
“I’m so glad he’s safe. Why did he run away?”
“It’s a bit complicated,” I say. “But he thinks you hate him.”
“Me? Why would he think that?”