Chapter 13

Mom's crying.

I don't know what time it is, but it feels late. She told me to try and get some sleep, but it's so loud here in the ER. I just wanna go home and sleep in my own bed, not this creaky one with the itchy blankets.

When I crack my eyes open, all I see is a thick curtain. On the other side, I hear Mom sniffle, and when I look down, I can make out two pairs of shoes coming together. When Dad talks, it's muffled, and I imagine they must be hugging.

"He's gonna be okay."

"Is he?" Mom says, her voice breaking. "Maybe…maybe we need to move. Go somewhere more accepting and…" Whatever else she says is lost to a whooshing in my ears. All I can focus on is that first part.

Move.

I don't wanna move.

My insides get all twisty at the thought, and I squeeze the edge of the itchy blanket in my hand.

"But Waylon," Mom says on another sob. "We can't leave him."

"No, we can't," Dad says softly, and I frown.

What about Mason? I think. We can't leave him either. He'd have Waylon still, sure, but…

I burrow in the blanket, trying not to sniffle too loudly.

This is all my fault.

"Plus," Dad says gruffly after a moment. "We don't even know if Jeremy is…you know."

Frowning, I peek out over my blankets.

"You mean gay?" Mom says in a tone I can't place. She almost sounds…mad, but not. Like she's trying to make a joke. 'cept no one's laughing.

A throat clears.

"Ray."

No response.

"You'll be okay with it if he is, right?"

Gay.

That's a bad word, Mom, is all I can think, as memories of getting that word spit at me at school replay through my head, making my chest feel all tight.

"Of course I will," Dad says almost angrily. "He's our son."

The tightness moves up my throat, making my jaw wobble.

More sniffles, then, "I don't want this for him."

"Eva…"

"I just want him safe and happy and whole, and-and?—"

"He's going to be fine. You heard the doctor."

"Yeah, physically." She scoffs. "For fuck's sake, Ray, he asked me what the word faggot meant when he was six years old. Six, Ray. Six. Why didn't I…why didn't we…"

The curtain blurs, and everything feels too hot and tight.

"He'll be homeschooled. We'll get him a new therapist who knows what the hell they're doing. He's…he's going to survive this. That kid's stronger than I think a lot of us give him credit for. Hell, he kept all this inside for months."

"And it could've killed him!" Mom explodes in a loud whisper. It reminds me of my sister. I wish she was here. She'd handle this.

She'd hate me so much if we moved because of me. I need to say something. Tell them I want to stay. But when I try to get my body to move, or my voice to work, nothing happens.

Dad's shushing Mom, and saying things I can't make out. It's a while before I can actually hear anything else.

"I just…I hoped as he got older…"

"Eva," Dad sighs.

"I love him just the way he is. Please don't think I—" Her voice hitches.

"I know. I know, sweetheart," Dad interrupts gently. "Of course you love him."

"I just hate this."

"Me too."

And laying here, rolling everything they said around my brain, piecing it all together—what the kids say at school…the fact my parents seem to think the same thing, but still love me for it…

The fact they'd consider moving away because of it…

Ripping us away from the only life we know.

I don't know what to make of it all.

All I know is they're upset because of me. I could ruin everything if I don't get better. Stronger.

And I hate this.

I don't want to be whatever it is they all think I am.

So I won't. I just… won't.

I'm finishingup my reading homework—Pearl Jam playing from my boombox—when I hear the front door slam downstairs, followed by footsteps pounding up the stairs.

My door's thrown open a second later, and in a tornado of lanky limbs and wild brown hair, a body crashes down on the mattress next to me.

"Hi," I say slowly, carefully.

Izzy tips her head back, grinning up at where I sit against my headboard.

"I kissed him," she tells me loud enough to be heard over the music.

And there's this feeling, like a weight being dropped from my chest to my gut.

She's squealing and rolling over onto her knees, gripping my shoulders, shaking me. "And he kissed me back! We're boyfriend and girlfriend now. He even held my?—"

"Who?" I whisper through the cottony feeling in my throat. My voice sounds very far away. Everything feels very far away.

She rolls her eyes, her smile not fading one bit. "Mason, obviously."

Obviously…

"Why?" I find myself asking.

She wrinkles her nose, shaking her head, brown hair flying all around her. "Because we like each other, silly!"

I feel myself nod, but it's as if my head is no longer a part of my body. My mouth opens and closes, but I'm unsure of what I even want to say.

I'm…confused.

Sad, I think.

But why?

"He's my soulmate," she says in that super serious voice of hers. "We're gonna be together forever and ever. Just like Cory and Topanga."

Sucking in my cheeks, I nod.

Boy Meets World has always been one of her favorite shows. We used to watch it every Friday night along with Sabrina the Teenage Witch.

She always used to say how she wanted a Cory, and I remember wondering why Waylon couldn't be that. I'd asked her once, and she scrunched up her face, and said, "Nah, he's more like a Shawn. Mason could be my Cory, maybe."

I didn't think much of it at the time. Other than thinking that made even less sense to me than Waylon.

But now, thinking back on how weird she's been acting the last few months…looking at Mason differently, giggling all girly-like around him… I can't help but feel like I missed something. A chance to…I don't know, tell her not to do that. He's supposed to be her friend. Nothing else.

We're eleven. I don't get why she's even thinking about stuff like this.

"They're not real," I finally say, stupidly, when she just stares at me, clearly waiting for me to say something.

She huffs, scowling. "Iknow that, but stuff like that happens in real life all the time. Mom and Dad met when they were in school. So did Way's parents." She grins. "We're gonna grow old together and die together like Grandma and Poppy."

I make a face at that.

She seems so…excited for that.

"Why are you making that face?"

"What face?"

"Your puss face." And she mimics it by wrinkling her nose and sticking her lips out.

Feeling my cheeks grow hot, I say, "I don't have a puss face, shut up."

"You do too. You're doing it again right now."

Shoving off the bed, I scowl, clenching my fists over my stomach. It feels all tight and gurgly, and I know if I don't calm down, I'll make myself sick. "Shut up," I repeat on a whisper.

"JJ," she says. "I thought…I thought you'd be happy for us. It means he'll get to be your brother one day, just like Dad and Uncle Brian."

And I'm shaking my head, face bunching in that face she accused me of. But I can't help it.

Everything she's saying…

It's wrong, it's all wrong.

"Why can't you just be happy with the way things are?" I find myself saying, gritting the words out through my teeth. "Why do you always have to change everything?" My voice shakes something fierce, like I'm crumbling from the inside out.

She scoots off the bed, and stands to face me.

I meet her gaze. "Why do you ruin everything?" I growl.

Her eyes widen, chin wobbling as they fill with tears. "JJ…"

"It's Jeremy!" I scream bloody-murder, lunging toward her, hands clawed at the air.

Izzy flinches back, curling into herself, eyes wide with hurt.

I haven't hit my sister in years, not since we were little, and we didn't know better. She'd pinch me, or I'd shove her. Mom and Dad would separate us, and eventually we'd crawl our way back to each other, hug it out, say sorry, and it would be like nothing even happened.

This though…

This feels different.

And I only manage to stop myself at the last possible second.

Mom rushes into the room moments later. "Hey hey hey, what's going on here?" She looks between us, frowning when she sees the tears on Izzy's face, and me clenching my fists at my sides.

"I hate you!" I cry out, having no idea where any of this is coming from. It's like I've been possessed, like when Spider-Man was taken over by Venom, and became the darkest version of himself. "I hate you, I hate you, I ha?—"

Mom's eyes widen. "Jeremy."

Two shocked faces appear behind her, half hidden in the shadows of the hallway.

Nononono.

"Get out," I say shakily, backing up, and out of line of sight of the hall. My eyes and throat are on fire. "Get out." My heart's racing, and it's getting harder to catch my breath. "Get. Out."

Mom's mouth tightens and she glances behind her. "Boys, why don't you go downstairs and get started on homework. Isobel, you too." She gives my sister a nod and makes a shooing motion when she tries to argue. Izzy casts me one last look, face bunched in that way it does when she's trying not to cry. "Fine," she mutters.

From the hall, I hear Mason, say, "But?—"

Mom closes the door on them, leaving just the two of us.

I cover my ears and hang my head, gritting my teeth.

Go away, go away, go away.

Mom drops down in front of me, and presses a hand over my chest. "Come on, bubs. You can do this. Inhale. Count to five. One…"

I do as she says, and it hurts—hurts so bad. Burns.

And I imagine that's exactly what's happening.

A fire blazing through me, snuffing out all these ugly, big feelings I have. Making room for me to breathe again.

"Exhale…"

I blow out a long breath, feeling my body deflate. The flames extinguished.

Mom's arms come around me then, and she cups the back of my head, guiding it down to her shoulder. "That's it. Better?"

Sniffling, I nod.

"Come sit with me."

Taking my hand, she leads me to the bed.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

I shrug, and stare at my feet kicking out along my carpet.

"Come on, sweet boy. You know you can tell me anything."

My kicking stops, and I peek a look up at her through my messy hair. She pushes it back with her fingers and gives me an encouraging smile.

"She said Mason's her boyfriend now," I mutter.

Her brows creep up toward her hairline and she straightens to look off at some distant spot over my head. "I see," she murmurs.

"Why can't she just ever be happy with the way things are?"

Mom laughs softly at that and shakes her head, looking back down to meet my gaze. "Well, if that's not a loaded question." She combs her fingers through my hair. "I don't know if I'd say she wasn't happy with just being friends…" she says carefully.

"But she always wants more. Nothing is good enough for her. And she just…she just takes it. It's not fair."

Mom says nothing to that, and I hunch my shoulders, feeling real hot all of a sudden.

"Everything's gonna be different now."

"Oh, I don't know about that." She curls her fingers under my chin, lifting my face. "Remember that time Izzy decided she wanted to be a cellist instead?"

I nod. "That didn't last very long."

Mom chuckles. "Exactly. Sometimes things seem like a good idea at first, but it doesn't mean it will work out. She realized cello and her weren't meant to be."

Sucking in my cheeks, I look down and nod. "But…but what if Mason is piano?"

Mom sucks in a deep breath. "Could be. But also, she's eleven. Just like you, just like Mason and Waylon. Who you kids are now is not who you'll be in five years, much less a year from now. People grow and change, and that's the beauty of it all."

Sniffing, I say quietly, "So…so I won't always be like this."

Mom goes very still. "What do you mean?"

I shrug, and wrap my arms around my middle, making myself as small as possible.

She ducks her head, searching my face with a frown. "Bubs, there's nothing wrong with who you are now."

Staring at the floor, I say nothing.

Hugging me to her chest, her arms come around my body, squeezing me. Cheek pressed to my hair, she says, "I know things have been hard for you. I know life dealt you a crappy hand. I can't promise you it will get easier, but I can promise you there's nothing wrong with you. And that you're loved, no matter what happens. As you are now, and as whoever you become."

I sniff, and feel myself relax when I catch a whiff of her perfume. Lavender.

"And Mason…he's still your friend, no matter what happens between him and your sister. Your bond with him is yours and yours alone. She can't touch that, or take that. Nor would she ever try. You know that. She's just…she's growing up, wanting to try new things…" She sighs and kisses my head. "But at the end of the day, you're her brother. She'll always put you first."

"If I asked her to break up with him, do you think she would?"

Mom's quiet for a long moment. Her hand strokes my shoulder. "I do."

I pull my head out from under hers, and her arms loosen. I meet her soft brown gaze. "That wouldn't be very nice of me, though, would it?"

She smiles thinly, sadly. "I can't tell you what to do here." Her eyes search between mine. "But if it really bothers you, I do think you should talk to her about. Explain where you're coming from, and why this upsets you." She pauses meaningfully. "Bottling it all up isn't healthy. It's okay to put yourself first too sometimes, even if that just means owning how you feel. Ultimately, it would still be her decision what she does with it."

I blink and look down. "She really likes him."

"Yeah, sweet boy, she does."

Of course Mom knows. She knows everything.

"And he…he likes her too. He has to, right?" I say, meeting her gaze once more.

Mom smiles that sad smile again.

"She's a girl," I tell her, because that feels important. "And she's pretty and-and she's good at piano, and she's nice and-and they're in the same classes, the same grade…"

Mom's eyes gleam with some emotion I can't name.

"Why wouldn't he like her like that?"

"Do you know how many boys I dated before I started dating your father?"

I make an ick face, and she laughs.

"Oh, don't be like that." She pauses, growing serious once more before saying, "There were five. And my first boyfriend? We were thirteen. Just a couple years older than you. You wanna know how long it lasted?"

I nod.

"Three months."

Frowning, I say, "Really?"

"Yup. And the one after that…well, I don't even know if it counts, since it only lasted a week."

I giggle at that.

"So, you see? I wouldn't be too worried."

My laughter fades, and so, so quiet, Mom has to lean down to hear me, I murmur, "But it's Mason."

Our eyes meet, and again, there's something there I can't pinpoint. I chew my lip, waiting for her to say something.

"He's not just some boy."

She nods, brow furrowing. "Yeah," she says distantly. "He's pretty much family, isn't he?"

I feel weird and hot again as I shake my head, remembering what Izzy said before about us being brothers. "B-but he's not like Waylon. Way's not going anywhere. But Mason…if they get in a big fight and break up…"

Inhaling deeply, Mom tips her head back, nodding. "I see."

"What if he stops coming around? What if…what if he ends up hating her, and I have to pick sides? What if he ends up hating me too?"

Mom hugs me to her again, shaking her head over mine. "No, no, that's not gonna happen."

"But it could."

"It won't. You know how I know?"

"How?"

She pinches my chin and guides it back to meet my gaze when she says, "Because a mother always knows. He's not your friend because of who your sister is. He's your friend because of you."

My chin wobbles. "Promise?"

"I promise," she vows fiercely.

There's a knock on the door, and we both look over at the same time. Mom releases me, and stands up, making her way over. When she opens it, I hear a familiar voice say, "I know I'm supposed to be doing homework with Izzy and Way, but can I talk to JJ real quick? It's important."

My heart does a belly flop in my chest.

Mom shoots me a questioning look over her shoulder, and I quickly wipe at my face, even though I know no tears escaped. Giving her a nod, I stand, just as she nudges the door all the way open, allowing Mason to pass.

"Ten minutes, okay? You both have homework to do."

Mason says, "Yes, ma'am," and Mom just rolls her eyes, shaking her head with a small smile.

"What'd I tell you about that ma'am stuff?"

Mason laughs and shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Sorry."

She musses his hair, and leaves the room, closing it behind her.

It's a long moment before either of us say anything.

Mason shuffles awkwardly in place, his eyes darting nervously about the room.

Shoulders hunched, I chew the inside of my lip, wishing I was better with this stuff.

I hate that he overheard me yelling at my sister. I had no idea he was even here, at our house. And now, recalling my outburst, heat climbs up my neck and face.

He probably thinks I'm such a loser.

A crybaby.

Not that I actually cried, but I might as well have with how upset I got.

"I'm sorry," he says in a soft, barely-there voice.

I shake my head. "You didn't do anything."

He tilts his head, his pale blue eyes shining back at me. "You're her big brother."

I frown.

"I should've asked you if it was okay first."

"We're twins," I say.

He shakes his head. "You're still older. And even if you weren't…"

"Do you like her? Like…like her-like her I mean."

He twists his lips together and shrugs. "Yeah. Yeah I think so."

Throat thick, I nod. "And she likes you."

His face flushes, and my stomach gets all twisted up.

Remembering what Mom told me—even though she was referring to Izzy—I force myself to speak, to use my words. "I just…what if you break up?"

He's the one frowning now.

"Will you still be friends?"

His frown only deepens and he nods quickly. "Yes." Something tells me that the alternative didn't even occur to him. He nods more determinedly. "We're friends first, no matter what. That's not changing."

"Okay," I whisper.

"And nothing changes for me and you, right?" he says, and there's a worried pinch to his features now that wasn't there before. "We're still best friends?"

I lift a shoulder. "If that's what you want."

"Yes," he blurts before I even fully get the words out. Then, "I don't want anything to change."

The tightness in my chest loosens a bit, and I inhale deeply, nodding with my exhale. "Okay, good. Me neither."

He tilts his head. "Is that why you got upset?"

I stare at those light blue eyes, and a weird twist of…of something curls up inside me, stretching into my throat, trapping words there that I…well, I don't really know what they are or how to explain them.

All I know is I'm nodding…

And it feels like a lie.

Fortunately, Mason doesn't seem to notice anything weird or suspicious. "I'm sorry. I didn't…I didn't know she was gonna do that today. I should've talked to you first. Made sure it's okay with you. I don't want you to be mad."

I shake my head. "I'm not mad at you." I'm not… "She can do what she wants."

And she will anyway…

Wincing at the thought, I look away. I feel bad thinking such mean things about my sister. I never used to…not until these last couple years, but especially lately.

Is this why? Did some part of me know this was coming?

Is that why Mom warned me about bottling things up?

"Yeah…" Mason says slowly. His brows knit. "But not if it bothers you. You're my friend. My best friend aside from Izzy and Way. I don't want you upset. I don't like it."

Eyes wide, I swallow hard, unsure what to say to that. My cheeks feel all hot again, and I quickly turn away, heading for my desk to grab my books. "We should do our homework."

I feel him watching me as I grab all my stuff to bring down. I don't always do homework with them, seeing as I'm homeschooled and am usually working on other lessons than they are. But I can't be in this room anymore, especially alone with him. And I don't really want to be alone, period, right now.

Just as I go to move past him, he says, "We're okay though, right?"

I look into his eyes, and I can see the worry shining back from deep within him.

Nodding, I say, "Yeah. We're fine."

His mouth thins, and he nods. "Promise you'll tell me if we're not?"

I search his eyes, and slowly nod once more. "Promise."

And just like before, I feel it for the lie it is.