15. June 21st

15

June 21st

T his has been another long fucking day.

Darius is fuming. No longer is he the easy-going brother. I have officially gotten under his skin. "Why do you insist on making irrational decisions?"

The truck bounces as he jerks us down the road, we aren't far from their house. I don't answer him, I am deep in thought over everything that has happened.

The letters, the car, the accident, the photo, Maxwell, the class ring… Grayson.

After Darius's arrival they exchanged a look before Grayson walked to his car on the side of the road and left as if nothing had even happened.

"And now you can't even bother to respond? Do you have some kind of death wish?" He slams on the brakes, and it finally rockets me out of my swirling brain.

I meet his eyes and see that he is just worried, but I can't help but be annoyed. They are lying to me. They are hiding something from me. I know it just as I know that the picture has something to do with Auggie and Tripp's death. It is an innate feeling that I can't discern or describe.

My face must show my annoyance, because Darius calms himself, he rubs his temples and closes his eyes. "We just want to keep you safe. I wish you could understand that we aren't the enemy."

But that's the thing, I have very little reason to trust them other than our shared grief. They have been good to me these last two days, but is that enough to really know them or their intentions. But for now? I guess that will have to be enough. "Truce?" I offer up my hand for him to shake.

I can tell he doesn't believe me, but sometimes we force ourselves to believe lies in order to feel better. In order to feel more secure.

He tenderly takes my hand and gives it a soft squeeze before letting it go. I ignore the way my skin tingles everywhere that he touched and wipe it against my shirt.

Darius follows the movement, his eyes darkening just like Grayson's had at the ripped fabric. "If nothing else, can we agree Maxwell is bad news?"

"Yes." That is something I am willing for us to come to an understanding on. Maxwell makes me feel gross, just the thought of him is reminiscent of a snake slithering across my skin.

I offer Darius one more reassuring smile, before grabbing the box from the impound lot, and hopping out of the truck. As I go to close the door behind me, I notice that Darius's envelope from his brother still sits on the dashboard.

Unopened.

***

I make it up to my room without any further encounters with the O'Brien brothers. Leaning on the back of the wooden bedroom door, I finally relax. Releasing the tension in my shoulders I hadn't noticed was there. The physical separation from the brothers is a necessity. While I don't believe they wish to harm me, I know something isn't right.

The box weighs heavily in my hands. I walk the few feet to the bed, setting it down and settling carefully next to it. I take the two envelopes first, placing them carefully on my nightstand. I don't have the mental capacity to open the one from Auggie. Yet.

Rifling through the box, I find that it's mostly just clothes. I'm almost surprised to see no blood on the items–they must have been kept in the trunk of the car. Neither of their phones are in the box though. Another oddity. Auggie's phone hadn't been returned to us. The next item I pull out, I recognize as Tripp's sweater. I place the soft material against my face and breathe it in. A mixture of his deodorant and natural woodsy smell invades my senses.

I don't know how long I am cradling the sweater to my face, but eventually my phone's vibrations jolt me out of my haze.

It's Carrie. Should I tell her about Maxwell? About my suspicions? Would she even believe me?

"Sunday!! Hey, I miss you. You been doing okay?" Her words are cheerful enough, but I can hear an underlying tone of exhaustion.

I snort softly into the phone. It's only been three days, but I wonder if she even remembers the night of the party. I wish I could forget it. "Hey Carrie, doing my best. What's up?" I don't want to weigh her down with the pressure of my pain and loneliness. She is trying to be nice, she is trying to be a good friend. It's not her fault that her boyfriend is a terrifying piece of shit that decided to put me in his cross fire.

I resolve to mention it to her, try to be a good friend and warn her about him, but I don't get a chance. She keeps chugging right along, "River day coming up!! You have to come. We're going to post up in the spot behind William's house." She lowers her voice a bit and it no longer holds its previous peppy tone. "You know you can talk to me, right? I don't fully understand, but I do care about you. And I always cared about your brother even after we split."

My heart warms a bit. Once more, Carrie is offering a branch to me. She and I have hung out since our freshman year when she started dating my brother. They were together until the middle of our junior year. They seemed to have a great relationship, but they broke up out of the blue. They did end up staying friends, but I know it hurt her when he ended up dating Veronica as soon as he went off to college, but she never let it show. Carrie is also partially the reason why Tripp and I ended up together. Tripp was tired of being a third wheel so they started to invite me along too.

I change my mind, maybe it's best I don't tell her about Maxwell, not on the phone at least. I want to be a friend to her, but I want to wait until we're in person together. Where I can gauge her reaction.

Does she know who Maxwell is? Or is she ignorantly unaware?

The river day. I shouldn't go to this event, but I know I am going to. I have to get answers, and William's house is right next to where they'll be partying on the river. Maybe I can search his house and find the evidence I need. "Yeah, that sounds fun. When is it?"

Carrie's light tone returns. "July 4 th …" she hesitates, I can tell there's more.

"What is it?"

"Are you really living with them? With the O'Briens?"

I don't like her tone, but I can't blame her. Tripp was the golden child, the good brother. The rest are known for being a drop-out, a felon, and well, I wasn't exactly sure what Grayson was known for, but it wasn't good. "I am," I confirm. "But it's okay, they mostly leave me alone. My parents are away for work." I'm not sure why I am defending them, but it feels right to do so. "I'll be there though for the river day, thank you for inviting me."

Again, she pauses but this time she decides not to press the matter. "Sounds good, Sunday, but seriously, if you ever need me, I am just one call away."

I appreciate the sentiment, but something about this entire conversation has been incredibly off-putting and draining.

I am beginning to suspect that maybe our friendship has run its course.